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I 


t'' 

V' 


«/v> 


TUE  lilUD  OF  I’KEY. 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND 


By  CHARLES  DICKENS. 


IN  TWO  VOLUMES. 
VOL.  I. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


BOSTON: 

PERRY  MASON  & CO., 
TEMPLE  PLACE. 


1884. 


J)SS'<^Uu 


CONTENTS  OF  YOL.  L 


BOOK  THE  FIRST.  The  Cup  and  the  Lip. 


CHAPTER  I. 

On  the  Look  Out 

PAGE 

. 1 

CHAPTER  II. 

The  Man  pbom  Somewhere  .... 

. 6 

CHAPTER  III. 

Another  Man  ...... 

. 18 

CHAPTER  IV. 

The  R.  Wilfer  Family  .... 

. 34 

CHAPTER  V. 

Boffin’s  Bower  ...... 

. 46 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Cut  Adrift  ...... 

. 64 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Mr.  Wegg  Looks  After  Himself 

, 81 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Mr.  Boffin  in  Consultation 

. 90 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin  in  Consultation 

. 104 

CHAPTER  X. 

A Marriage  Contract  .... 

. 120 

CHAPTER  XI. 

PODSNAPPERT  . . 

. 135 

IV 


CONTENTS  OF  VOL.  I. 


CHAPTER  XIL  face 

The  Sweat  of  an  Honest  Man’s  Brow  . . . 152 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Tracking  the  Bird  of  Prey  . . . . . .169 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

The  Bird  of  Prey  Brought  Down  . . . • .180 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Tw'o  New  Servants  188 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Minders  and  Re-Minders  . . . . . . . 203 

CHAPTER  XVII 

A Dismal  Swamp 220 


BOOK  THE  SECOND.  Birds  of  a Feather. 


CHAPTER  1. 

Of  an  Educational  Chaeactee 

. 226 

CHAPTER  11. 

Still  Educational  ..... 

. 246 

CHAPTER  III. 

A Piece  of  Work  ..... 

. 258 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Cupid  Prompted  ..... 

. 270 

CHAPTER  V. 

Mercury  Prompting  ..... 

. 284 

CHAPTER  VL 

A Riddle  Without  an  Answer 

. 300 

CHAPTER  VII. 

In  which  a Friendly  Move  is  Originated  . 

. 314 

CONTENTS  OF  VOL.  I. 


V 


CHAPTER  Vril. 

In  which  an.  Innocent  Elopement  Occues  . 

page 

. 326 

CHAPTER  IX. 

In  which  the  Orphan  Makes  his  Will 

. 344 

CHAPTER  X. 

A Successor  ...... 

. 352 

CHAPTER  XL 

Some  Affairs  of  the  Heart 

. 359 

CHAPTER  XII. 

More  Birds  of  Prey  .... 

. 373 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

A Solo  anO  a Duett  .... 

. 384 

* CHAPTER  XIV. 

Strong  of  Purpose  ..... 

. 404 

CHAPTER  XV. 

The  Whole  Case  so  far  .... 

. 418 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

An  Anniversary  Occasion 

. 435 

OUK  MUTUAL  FRIUUD. 


IN  FOUR  BOOKS. 

BOOK  THE  FIRST.  THE  CUP  AND  THE  LIP. 


CHAPTER  L 


ON  THE  LOOK  OUT. 

IN'  these  times  of  ours,  though  concerning  the  exact 
year  there  is  no  need  to  be  precise,  a boat  of  dirty 
and  disreputable  appearance,  with  two  figures  in  it, 
floated  on  the  Thames,  between  Southwark  Bridge  which 
is  of  iron,  and  London  Bridge  which  is  of  stone,  as  an 
autumn  evening  v/as  closing  in. 

The  figures  in  this  boat  were  those  of  a strong  man 
with  ragged  grizzled  hair  and  a sun-browned  face,  and 
a dark  girl  of  nineteen  or  twenty,  sufflciently  like  him 
to  be  recognizable  as  his  daughter.  The  girl  rowed, 
pulling  a pair  of  sculls  very  easily;  the  man  with  the 
rudder-lines  slack  in  his  hands,  and  his  hands  loose  in 
his  waistband,  kept  an  eager  look  out.  He  had  no  net, 
hook  or  line,  and  he  could  not  be  a fisherman;  his  boat 
had  no  cushion  for  a sitter,  no  paint,  no  inscription,  no 
appliance  beyond  a rusty  boathook  and  a coil  of  rope, 
and  he  could  not  be  a waterman  ; hi's  boat  was  too  crazy 
and  too  small  to  take  in  cargo  for  delivery,  and  he  could 
not  be  a lighterman  or  river  carrier;  there  was  no  clue 
to  what  he  looked  for,  but  he  looked  for  something, 
with  a most  intent  and  searching  gaze.  The  tide,  which 
had  turned  an  hour  before,  was  running  down,  and  his 
eyes  watched  eveTy  little  race  and  eddy  in  its  broad 
VOL.  I.  1 


2 


OUE  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


sweep,  as  the  boat  made  slight  head-way  against,  or 
drove  stern  foremost  before  it,  according  as  he  directed 
his  daughter  by  a movement  of  his  hand.  She  watched 
his  face  as  earnestly  as  he  watched  the  river.  But  in 
the  intensity  of  her  look  there  was  a touch  of  dread  or 
horror. 

Allied  to  the  bottom  of  the  river  rather  than  the  sur- 
face, by  reason  of  the  slime  and  ooze  with  which  it  was 
covered,  and  its  sodden  state,  this  boat  and  the  two 
figures  in  it  obviously  were  doing  something  that  they 
often  did,  and  were  seeking  what  they  often  sought. 
Half  savage  as  the  man  showed,  with  no  covering  on 
his  matted  head,  with  his  brown  arms  bare  to  between 
the  elbow  and  the  shoulder,  with  the  loose  knot  of  a 
looser  kerchief  lying  low  on  his  ba^re  breast  in  a wilder- 
ness of  beard  and  whisker,  with  such  dress  as  he  wore 
seeming  to  be  made  out  of  the  mud  that  begrimed  his 
boat,  still  there  was  no  business-like  usage  in  his  steady 
gaze.  So  with  every  lithe  action  of  the  girl,  with  every 
turn  of  her  wrist,  perhaps  most  of  all  with  her  look  of 
dread  or  horror;  they  were  things  of  usage. 

Keep  her  out,  Lizzie.  Tide  runs  strong  here.  Keep 
her  well  afore  the  sw^eep  of  it.” 

Trusting  to  the  girl’s  skill  and  making  no  use  of  the 
rudder,  he  eyed  the  coming  tide  with  an  absorbed  atten- 
tion. So  the  girl  eyed  him.  But  it  happened  now  that 
a slant  of  light  from  the  setting  sun  glanced  into  the 
bottom  of  the  boat,  and,  touching  a rotten  stain  there 
which  bore  some  resemblance  to  the  outline  of  a muffled 
human  form,  coloured  it  as  though  with  diluted  blood. 
This  caught  the  girl’s  eye,  and  she  shivered. 

What  ails  you?”  said  the  man,  immediately  aware 
of  it,  though  so  intent  on  the  advancing  waters;  I see 
nothing  afloat.” 

The  red  light  was  gone,  the  shudder  was  gone,  and 
his  gaze,  which  had  come  back  to  the  boat  for  a moment, 
travelled  away  again.  Wheresoever  the  strong  tide 
met  with  an  impediment,  his  gaze  paused  for  an  instant. 
At  every  mooring-chain  and  rope,  at  every  stationary 
boat  or  barge  that  split  the  current  into  a broad  arrow- 
head, at  the  offsets  from  the  piers  of  Southwark  Bridge, 
at  the  paddles  of  the  river  steamboats  as  they  beat  the 
filthy  v/ater,  at  the  floating  logs  of  timber  lashed  together 
lying  off  certain  wharves,  his  shining  eyes  darted  a 


ON  THE  LOOK  OUT. 


3 


hungry  look.  After  a darkening  hour  or  so,  suddenly 
the  rudder  lines  tightened  in  his  hold,  and  he  steered 
hard  towards  the  Surrey  shore. 

Always  waj^ching  his  face,  the  girl  instantly  answered 
to  the  action  in  her  sculling;  presently  the  boat  swung 
round,  quivered  as  from  a sudden  jerk,  and  the  upper 
half  of  the  man  was  stretched  out  over  the  stern. 

The  girl  pulled  the  hood  of  a cloak  she  wore  over  her 
head  and  over  her  face,  and,  looking  backward  so  that 
the  front  folds  of  this  hood  were  turned  down  the  river, 
kept  the  boat  in  that  direction  going  before  the  tide. 
Until  now,  the  boat  had  barely  held  her  own,  and  had 
hovered  about  one  spot;  but  now  the  banks  changed 
swiftly,  and  the  deepening  shadows  and  the  kindling 
lights  of  London  Bridge  were  passed,  and  the  tiers  of 
shipping  lay  on  either  hand. 

It  was  not  until  now  that  the  upper  half  of  the  man 
came  back  into  the  boat.  His  arms  were  wet  and  dirty, 
and  he  washed  them  over  the  side.  In  his  right  hand 
he  held  something,  and  he  washed  that  in  the  river  too. 
It  was  money.  He  chinked  it  once,  and  he  blew  upon 
it  once,  and  he  spat  upon  it  once, — for  luck,’’  he 
hoarsely  said — before  he  put  it  in  his  pocket. 

Lizzie!” 

The  girl  turned  her  face  towards  him  with  a start, 
and  rowed  in  silence.  Her  face  was  very  pale.  He 
was  a hook-nosed  man,  and  with  that  and  his  bright 
eyes  and  his  ruffled  head,  bore  a certain  likeness  to  a 
roused  bird  of  prey.  * 

Take  that  thing  off  your  face.” 

She  put  it  back. 

Here!  and  give  me  hold  of  the  sculls.  I’ll  take  the 
rest  of  the  spell.” 

^^No,  no,  father!  No!  I can’t  indeed.  Father!  — I 
cannot  sit  so  near  it!” 

He  was  moving  towards  her  to  change  places,  but  her 
terrified  expostulation  stopped  him  and  he  resumed  his 
seat. 

What  hurt  can  it  do  you  ?” 

^^None,  none.  But  I cannot  bear  it.” 

It’s  my  belief  you  hate  the  sight  of  the  very  river.” 

— I do  not  like  it,  father.” 

^‘'As  if  it  wasn’t  your  living!  As  if  it  wasn't  meat 
and  drink  to  you!” 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


At  these  latter  words  the  girl  shivered  again,  and  f(  r 
a moment  paused  in  her  rowing,  seeming  to  turn  deadly 
faint.  It  escaped  his  attention,  for  he  was  glancing 
over  the  stern  at  something  the  boat  had  ip  tow. 

‘^How  can  you  be  so  thankless  to  your  best  friend, 
Lizzie?  The  vety  fire  that  warmed  you  when  you  were 
a baby,  was  picked  out  of  the  river  alongside  the  coal 
barges.  The  very  basket  that  you  slept  in,  the  tide 
washed  ashore.  The  very  rockers  that  I put  it  upon  to 
make  a cradle  of  it,  I cut  out  of  a piece  of  wood  that 
drifted  from  some  ship  to  another.”  • 

Lizzie  took  her  right  hand  from  the  scull  it  held,  and 
touched  her  lips  with  it,  and  for  a moment  held  it  out 
lovingly  towards  him;  then,  without  speaking,  she 
resumed  her  rowing,  as  another  boat  of  similar  appear- 
ance, though  in  rather  better  trim,  came  out  from  a 
dark  place  and  dropped  softly  alongside. 

‘‘In  luck  again.  Gaffer  ?”  said  a man  with  a squint- 
ing leer,  who  sculled  her  and  who  was  alone.  I knowTl 
you  ’was  in  luck  again,  by  your  wake  as  you  come 
down.” 

Ah!”  replied  the  other,  drily.  ^^So  you’re  out,  are 
you?” 

''Yes,  pardner.” 

There  was  now  a tender  yellow  moonlight  on  the 
river,  and  the  new  comer,  keeping  half  his  boat’s  length 
astern  of  the  other  boat,  looked  hard  at  its  track. 

"I  says  to  myself,”  he  went  on,  "directly  you  hove 
in  view.  Yonder’s  Gaffer,  and  in  luck  again,  by  George 
if  he  ain’t!  Scull  it  is,  pardner — don’t  fret  yourself — I 
didn’t  touch  him.”  This  was  an  answer  to  a quick 
impatient  movement  on  the  part  of  Gaffer:  the  speaker 
at  the  same  time  unshipping  his  scull  on  that  side,  and 
laying  his  hand  on  the  gunwale  of  Gaffer’s  boat  and 
holding  to  it. 

"He’s  had  touches  enough  not  to  want  no  more,  as 
well  as  I make  him  out,  Gafer!  Been  a knocking  about 
with  a pretty  many  tides,  ain’t  he,  pardner?  Such  is 
my  out-of-luck  ways,  you  see!  He  must  have  passed 
me  when  he  went  up  last  time,  for  I was  on  the  look- 
out below  bridge  here.  I a’most  think  you’re  like  the 
wulturs,  pardner,  and  scent  ’em  out.” 

He  spoke  in  a dropped  voice  with  more  than  one 
glance  at  Lizzie,  who  had  pulled  on  her  hood  again. 


ON  THE  LOOKOUT. 


5 


Both  men  then  looked  with  a weird  unholy  interest  at 
the  wake  of  Gaffer’s  boat. 

''  Easy  does  it,  betwixt  us.  Shall  I take  him  aboard, 
pardner  ? ” 

No,”  said  the  other.  In  so  surly  a tone  that  the 
man,  after  a blank  stare,  acknowledged  it  with  a retort : 

— AriTt  been  eating  nothing  as  has  disagreed  with 
you,  have  you,  pardner  ?” 

Why,  yes,  I have,”  said  Gaffer.  I have  been 
swallowing  too  much  of  that  word,  pardner.  I am  no 
pardner  of  yours.” 

Since  when  was  you  no  pardner  of  mine.  Gaffer 
Hexam  Esquire  ?” 

Since  you  were  accused  of  robbing  a man.  Accused 
of  robbing  a live  man  ! ” said  Gaffer,  with  great  indig- 
nation. 

And  what  if  I had  been  accused  of  robbing  a dead 
man.  Gaffer  ? ” 

You  couldn’t  do  it.” 

''  Couldn’t  you.  Gaffer  ?” 

No.  Has  a dead  man  any  use  for  money  ? Is  it 
possible  for  a dead  man  to  have  money  ? What  world 
does  a dead  man  belong  to  ? T’other  vrorld.  What 
world  does  money  belong  to  ? This  world.  How  can 
money  be  a corpse’s  ? Can  a corpse  own  it,  want  it, 
spend  it,  claim  it,  miss  it  ? Don’t  try  to  go  confounding 
the  rights  and  wrongs  of  things  in  that  way.  But  iLs 
worthy  of  the  sneaking  spirit  that  robs  a live  man.” 

I will  tell  you  what  it  is 

No,  you  won’t.  J’ll  tell  you  what  it  is.  You’ve  got 
off  with  a>  short  time  of  it  for  putting  your  hand  in  the 
pocket  of  a sailor,  a live  sailor.  Make  the  most  of  it 
and  think  yourself  lucky,  but  don’t  think  after  that  to 
come  over  me  with  your  pardners.  We  have  worked 
together  in  time  past,  but  we  work  together  no  more  in 
time  present  nor  yet  future.  Let  go.  Cast  off  ? ” 

‘^Gaffer!  If  you  think  to  get  rid  of  me  this  way 

‘Hf  I don’t  get  rid  of  you  this  way.  I’ll  try  another, 
and  chop  you  over  the  fingers  with  the  stretcher,  or 
take  a pick  at  your  head  with  the  boat-hook.  Cast  off  ! 
Pull  you,  Lizzie.  ‘Pull  home,  since  you  won’t  let  your 
father  pull.” 

Lizzie  shot  ahead,  and  the  other  boat  fell  astern. 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


* r; 

Lizzie's  father,  composing  himself  into  the  easy  attitude 
of  one  who  had  asserted  the  high  moralities  and  taken 
an  unassailable  position,  slowly  lighted  a pipe,  and 
smoked,  and  took  a survey  of  what  he  had  in  tow. 
What  he  had  in  tow,  lunged  itself  at  him  sometimes  in 
an  awful  manner  when  the  boat  was  checked,  and 
sometimes  seemed  to  try  to  wrench  itself  away,  though 
for  the  most  part  it  followed  submissively.  A neophyte 
might  have  fancied  that  the  ripples  passing  over  it 
were  dreadfully  like  faint  changes  of  expression  on  a 
sightless  face  ; but  Gaffer  was  no  neophyte  and  had  no 
fancies. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  MAX  FROM  SOMEWHERE. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Veneering  were  bran-nevv^  people  in  a 
bran-new  house  in  a bran-new  quarter  of  London. 
Everything  about  the  Veneerings  was  spick  and  span 
new.  All  their  furniture  was  nevv^,  all  their  friends 
were  new,  all  their  servants  were  new,  their  plate  was 
new,  their  carriage  was  new,  their  harness  was  new, 
their  horses  were  nev/,  their  pictures  were  new,  they 
themselves  were  new,  they  were  as  newly  married  as 
was  lawfully  compatible  with  their  having  a bran-new 
baby,  and  if  they  had  set  up  a great-grand-father,  he 
would  have  come  home  in  matting  from  the  Pantechni- 
con, without  a scratch  upon  him,  French  polished  to 
the  crown  of  his  head. 

For,  in  the  Veneering  establishment,  from  the  hall- 
chairs  with  the  new  coat  of  arms  to  the  grand  piano- 
forte with  the  new  action,  and  up  stairs  again  to  the 
new  fire-escape,  all  things  were  in  a state  of  high  var- 
nish and  polish.  And  what  was  observable  in  the  fur- 
niture, was  observable  in  the  Veneerings — the  surface 
smelt  a little  too  much  of  the  workshop  and  was  a trifle 
sticky. 

There  was  an  innocent  piece  of  dinner-furniture  that 
went  upon  easy  castors  and  was  kept  over  a livery  sta- 
ble-yard  in  Duke  Street,  St.  James,  when  not  in  use,  to 


THE  MAN  FROM  SOMEWHERE. 


vv^liom  the  Veneerings  were  a source  of  blind  confusion. 
The  name  of  this  article  was  Twemlow.  Being  first 
cousin  to  Lord  Snigsworth,  he  was  in  frequent  requisi- 
tion, and  at  many  houses  might  be  said  to  represent  the 
dining-table  in  its  normal  state.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Veneer- 
ing, for  example,  arranging  a dinner,  habitually  started 
with  Twemlow,  and  then  put  leaves  in  him,  or  added 
guests  to  him.  Sometimes,  the  table  consisted  of 
Twemlow  and  half  a dozen  leaves  ; sometimes,  Twemlow 
was  pulled  out  to  his  utmost  extent  of  twenty  leaves. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Veneering  on  occasions  of  ceremony  faced 
each  other  in  the  centre  of  the  board,  and  thus  the  par- 
allel still  held ; for,  it  always  happened  that  the  more 
Twemlow  was  pulled  out,  the  farther  he  found  himself 
from  the  centre,  and  the  nearer  to  the  sideboard  at  one 
end  of  the  room,  or  the  window  curtains  at  the  other. 

But  it  was  not  this  which  steeped  the  feeble  soul  of 
Twemlow  in  confusion.  This  he  was  used  to,  and  could 
take  soundings  of.  The  abyss  to  which  he  could  find 
no  bottom,  and  from  which  started  forth  the  engrossing 
and  ever-swelling  difficulty  of  his  life,  was  the  insoluble 
question  whether  he  was  Veneering’s  oldest  friend,  or 
newest  friend.  To  the  excogitation  of  this  problem, 
the  harmless  gentleman  had  devoted  many  anxious 
hours,  both  in  his  lodgings  over  the  livery  stable-yard, 
and  in  the  cold  gloom,  favorable  to  meditation,  of  St. 
James’  Square.  Thus.  Twemlow  had  first  known 
Veneering  at  his  club,  where  Veneering  then  knew 
nobody  but  the  man  who  made  them  known  to  one 
another,  who  seemed  to  be  the  most  intimate  friend  he 
had  in  the  v^^orld,  and  whom  he  had  knov/n  two  days — 
the  bond  of  union  between  their  souls,  the  nefarious 
conduct  of  the  committee  respecting  the  cookery  of  a 
fillet  of  veal,  having  been  accidently  cemented  aJ  that 
date.  Immediately  upon  this,  Twemlow  received  an 
invitation  to  dine  with  Veneering,  and  dined:  the 
man  being  of  the  party.  Immediately  upon  that, 
Twemlow  received  an  invitation  to  dine  with  the  man, 
and  dined:  Veneering  being  of  the  party.  At  the  man’s 
were  a Member,  an  Engineer,  a Payer-off  of  the  Na- 
tional Debt,  a Poem  on  Shakespeare,  a Grievance,  and 
a Public  Office,  who  all  seemed  to  be  utter  strangers  to 
Veneering.  And  yet  immediately  after  that,  Twemlow 
received  am  invitation  to  dine  at  Veneering’s  expressly 


8 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


to  me3t  tie  Member,  the  Engineer,  the  Payer-off  of  the 
National  Debt,  the  Poem  on  Shakespeare,  the  Griev- 
ance, and  the  Public  Office,  and,  dining,  discovered  that 
all  of  them  were  the  most  intimate  friends  Veneering 
had  in  the  world,  and  that  the  wives  of  all  of  them 
(who  were  all  there)  were  the  objects  of  Mrs.  Veneering’s 
most  devoted  affection  and  tender  confidence. 

Thus  it  had  come  about,  that  Mr.  Twemlow  had  said 
to  himself  in  his  lodgings,  with  his  hand  to  his  forehead: 

I must  not  not  think  of  this.  This  is  enough  to  soften 
any  man’s  brain,” — and  yet  was  always  thinking  of  it, 
and  could  never  form  a conclusion. 

This  evening  the  Veneerings  give  a banquet.  Eleven 
leaves  in  the  Twemlow:  fourteen  in  company  all  told. 
Four  pigeon-breasted  retainers  in  plain  clothes  stand 
in  line  in  the  hall.  A fifth  retainer,  proceeding  up  .the 
staircase  with  a mournful  air — as  who  should  say,  ^'Here 
is  another  wretched  creature  come  to  dinner;  such  is 
life ! ” — announces,  ‘ ^Mister  Twemlow ! ” 

Mrs.  Veneering  welcomes  her  sweet  Mr.  Twemlow. 
Mr.  Veneering  welcomes  his  dear  Twemlow.  Mrs.  Ve- 
neering does  not  expect  that  Mr.  Twemlow  can  in  nature 
care  much  for  such  insipid  things  as  babies,  but  so  old 
a friend  must  please  to  look  at  baby.  '‘Ah!  You 
will  know  the  friend  of  your  family,  better  Tootleums,” 
says  Mr.  Veneering,  nodding  emotionly  at  that  new 
article,  "when  you  begin  to  take  notice.”  He  then  begs 
to  make  his  dear  Twemlow  known  to  his  two  friends, 
Mr.  Boots  and  Mr.  Brewer — and  clearly  has  no  distinct 
idea  which  is  which. 

But  now  a fearful  circumstance  occurs. 

" Mis-ter  and  Mis-sis  Podsnap  ! ” 

“ My  dear,”  says  Mr.  Veneering  to  Mrs.  Veneering, 
with  an  air  of  much  friendly  interest,  while  the  door 
stands  open,  "the  Podsnaps.” 

A too,  too  smiling  large  man,  with  a fatal  freshness 
on  him,  appearing  with  his  wife,  instantly  deserts  his 
wife  and  darts  at  Twemlow  with: 

" How  do  you  do  ? So  glad  to  know  you.  Charming 
house  you  have  here.  I hope  we  are  not  late.  So  glad 
of  this  opportunity,  I am  sure  ? ” 

When  the  first  shock  fell  upon  him,  Twemlow  twice 
skipped  back  in  his  neat  little  shoes  and  his  neat  little  silk 
stockings  of  a bygone  fashion,  as  if  impelled  to  leap 


THE  MA]Sr  FROM  SOMEWHERE.  9 

over  a sofa  behind  him;  but  the  large  man  closed  with 
him  and  proved  too  strong. 

Let  me/’ says  the  large  man/trying  to  attract  the 
attention  of  his  wife  in  the  distance,  ''have  the  pleas- 
ure of  presenting  Mrs.  Podsnap  to  her  host.  She  will 
be/’  in  his  fatal  freshness  he  seems  to  find  perpetual 
verdure  and  eternal  youth  in  the  phrase,  "she  will  be 
so  glad  of  the  opportunity,  I am  sure  ! ” 

In  the  meantime,  Mrs.  Podsnap,  unable  to  originate 
a mistake  on  her  own  account,  because  Mrs.  Veneering 
is  the  only  other  lady  there,  does  her  best  in  the  way  of 
handsomely  supporting  her  husband’s,  by  looking  to- 
wards Mr.  Twemlow  with  a plaintive  countenance  and 
remarking  to  Mrs.  Veneering  in  a feeling  manner, 
firstly,  that  she  fears  he  has  been  rather  bilious  of  late, 
and,  secondly,  that  the  baby  is  already  very  like  him. 

It  is  questionable  whether  any  man  quite  relishes  be- 
ing mistaken  for  any  other  man;  but  Mr.  Veneering, 
having  this  very  evening  set  up  the  shirt-front  of  the 
young  Antinous  (in  new  worked  cambric  just  come 
home),  is  not  at  all  complimented  by  being  supposed  to 
be  Twemlow,  who  is  dry  and  weazen  and  some  thirty 
years  older.  Mrs.  Veneering  equally  resents  the  impu- 
tation of  being  the  wife  of  Twemlow.  As  to  Twemlow, 
he  is  so  sensible  of  being  a much  better  bred  man  than 
Veneering  that  he  considers  the  large  man  an  offensive 
ass. 

In  this  complicated  dilemma,  Mr.  Veneering  ap- 
proaches the  large  man  with  extended  hand,  and  smil- 
ingly assures  that  incorrigible  personage  that  he  is  de- 
lighted to  see  him:  who  in  his  fatal  freshness  instantly 
replies: 

" Thank  you.  I am  ashamed  to  say  that  I cannot  at 
this  moment  recall  where  we  met,  but  I am  so  glad  of 
this  opportunity,  I am  sure!” 

Then  pouncing  upon  Twemlow,  who  holds  back  with 
all  his  feeble  might,  he  is  hauling  him  off  to  present 
him,  as  Veneering,  to  Mrs.  Podsnap,  when  the  arrival 
of  more  guests  unravels  the  mistake.  Whereupon, 
having  re-shaken  hands  with  Veneering  as  Veneering, 
he  re-shakes  hands  with  Twemlow  as  Twemlow,  and 
winds  it  all  up  to  his  own  perfect  satisfaction  by  saying 
to  the  last-named,  " Ridiculous  opportunity — but  so  glad 
of  it,  I am  sure ! ” 


10 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Now,  Twemlow  having  undergone  this  terrific  experi- 
ence, having  likewise  noted  the  fusion  of  Boots  in 
Brewer  and  Brewer  in  Boots,  and  having  further  ob- 
served that  of  the  remaining  seven  guests  four  discreet 
characters  enter  with  wandering  eyes  and  wholly  de- 
cline to  commit  themselves  as  to  which  is  Veneering, 
until  Veneering  has  them  in  his  grasp — Twemlow  hav- 
ing profited  by  these  studies,  finds  his  brain  whole- 
somely hardening  as  he  approaches  the  conclusion  that 
he  really  is  Veneering’s  oldest  friend,  when  his  brain 
softens  again  and  all  is  lost,  through  his  eyes  encount- 
ering Veneering  and  the  large  man  linked  together  as 
twin  brothers  in  the  back  drawing-room  near  the  con- 
servatory door,  and  through  his  ears  informing  him  in 
the  tones  of  Mrs.  Veneering  that  the  same  large  man  is 
to  be  baby’s  godfather. 

Dinner  is  on  the  table!  ” 

Thus  the  melancholy  retainer,  as  who  should  say. 

Come  down  and  be  poisoned,  ye  unhappy  children  of 
men!  ” 

Twemlow,  having  no  lady  assigned  to  him,  goes  down 
in  the  rear,  with  his  hand  to  his  forehead.  Boots  and 
Brewer,  thinking  him  indisposed,  whisper,  ^^Man  faint. 
Had  no  lunch?”  But  he  is  only  stunned  by  the  unvan- 
quishable  difficulty  of  his  existence. 

Revived  by  soup,  Twemlow  discourses  mildly  of  the 
Court  Circular  with  Boots  and  Brewer.  Is  appealed 
to,  at  the  fish  stage  of  the  banquet,  by  Veneering,  on 
the  disputed  question  whether  his  cousin  Lord  Snigs- 
worth  is  in  or  out  of  town?  Gives  it  that  his  cousin  is 
out  of  town.'  At  Snigs worthy  Park?”  Veneering  in- 
quires. ^'At  Snigsworthy,”  Twemlov/  rejoins.  Boots 
and  Brewer  regard  this  as  a man  to  be  cultivated;  and 
Veneering  is  clear  that  he  is  a remunerative  article. 
Meantime  the  retainer  goes  round,  like  a gloomy  Ana- 
lytical Chemist:  always  seeming  to  say,  after  Chablis, 
sir?” — '^You  wouldn’t  if  you  knew  what  it’s  made 
of  ?” 

The  great  looking-glass  above  the  sideboard  reflects 
the  table  and  the  company.  Reflects  the  new  Veneering 
crest,  in  gold  and  eke  in  silver,  frosted  and  also  thawed, 
a camel  of  all  work.  The  Heralds’  College  found  out  a 
Crusading  ancestor  for  Veneering  who  bore  a camel  on 
his  shield  (or  might  have  done  it  if  he  had  thought  of' 


THE  MA^  FKOM  SOMEWHERE. 


11 


it),  and  a caravan  of  camels  take  charge  of  the  fruits 
and  flowers  and  candles,  and  kneel  down  to  be  loaded 
with  the  salt.  Reflects  Veneering;  forty,  wavy -haired, 
dark,  tending  to  corpulence,  sly,  mysterious,  filmy — a 
kind  of  sufficiently  v>rell-looking  veiled  prophet,  not 
prophesying.  Reflects  Mrs.  Veneering;  fair,  aquiline- 
nosed and  fingered,  not  so  much  light  hair  as  she  might 
have,  gorgeous  in  raiment  and  jewels,  enthusiastic, 
propitiatory,  conscious  that  a corner  of  her  husband’s 
veil  is  over  herself.  Reflects  Podsnap;  prosperously 
feeding,  two  little  light-colored  wiry  wings,  one  on 
either  side  of  his  else  bald  head,  looking  as  like  his 
hairbrushes  as  his  hair,  dissolving  view  of  red  beads  on 
his  forehead,  large  allowance  of  crumpled  shirt-collar 
up  behind.  Reflects  Mrs.  Podsnap;  fine  woman  for 
Professor  Owen,  quantity  of  bone,  neck  and  nostrils 
like  a rocking-horse,  hard  features,  majestic  head-dress 
in  which  Podsnap  has  hung  golden  offerings.  Reflects 
Twemlow;  grey,  dry,  polite,  susceptible  to  east  wind, 
First-Gentleman-in-Europe  collar  and  cravat,  cheeks 
drawn  in  as  if  he  had  made  a great  effort  to  retire  into 
himself  some  years  ago,  and  had  got  so  far  and  had 
never  got  any  farther.  Reflects  mature  young  lady; 
raven  locks,  and  complexion  that  lights  up  well  when 
well  powdered — as  it  is — carrying  on  considerably  in 
the  captivation  of  mature  young  gentleman;  with  too 
much  nose  in  his  face,  too  much  ginger  in  his  whiskers, 
too  much  torso  in  his  waistcoat,  too  much  sparkle  in  his 
studs,  his  eyes,  his  buttons,  his  talk,  and  his  teeth. 
Reflects  charming  old  Lady  Tippings,  on  Veneering’s 
right;  with  an  immense  obtuse  drab  oblong  face,  like  a 
face  in  a table-spoon,  and  a dyed  Long  Walk  up  the  top 
of  her  head,  as  a convenient  public  approach  to  the 
bunch  of  false  hair  behind,  pleased  to  patronize  Mrs. 
Veneering  opposite,  who  is  pleased  to  be  patronized. 
Reflects  a certain  Mortimer,”  another  of  Veneering’s 
oldest  friends;  who  never  was  in  the  house  before,  and 
appears  not  to  v^^ant  to  come  again,  who  sits  disconsol- 
ate on  Mrs.  Veneerffig’s  left,  and  who  was  inveigled  by 
Lady  Tippins  (a  friend  of  his  boyhood)  to  come  to  these 
people’s  and  talk,  and  who  won’t  talk.  Reflects  Eugene, 
friend  of  Mortimer;  buried  alive  in  the  back  of  his 
chair,  behind  a shoulder — with  a powder-epaulette  on  it 
— of  the  mature  young  ladj^,  and  gloomily  resorting  to 


12 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


the  champagne  chalice  whenever  proffered  by  the  Ana- 
lytical chemist.  Lastly,  the  looking-glass  reflects  Boots 
and  Brewer,  and  two  other  stuffed  Buffers  interposed 
between  the  rest  of  the  company  and  possible  acci- 
dents. 

The  Veneering  dinners  are  excellent  dinners — or  new 
people  wouldn’t  come — and  all  goes  well.  Notably, 
Lady  Tippins  has  made  a series  of  experiments  on  her 
digestive  functions,  so  extremely  complicated  and  dar- 
ing, that  if  they  could  be  published  with  their  results  it 
might  benefit  the  human  race.  Having  taken  in  pro- 
visions from  all  parts  of  the  world,  this  hardy  old  cruiser 
has  last  touched  at  the  North  Pole,  when,  as  the  ice- 
plates  are  being  removed,  the  following  words  fall  from 
her  : 

I assure  you,  my  dear  Veneering — ” 

(Poor  Twemlow’s  hand  approaches  hte  forehead,  for 
it  would  seem  now,  that  Lady  Tippins  is  going  to  be  the 
oldest  friend.) 

''I  assure  you,  my  dear  Veneering,  that  it  is  the 
oddest  affair  ! Like  the  advertising  people,  I don’t  ask 
you  to  trust  me  without  offering  a respectable  reference. 
Mortimer  there  is  my  reference,  and  knows  all  about  it.” 

Mortimer  raises  his  drooping  eyelids,  and  slightly 
opens  his  mouth.  But  a faint  smile,  expressive  of 
•'What’s  the  use  !”  passes  over  his  face,  and  he  drops 
his  eyelids  and  shuts  his  mouth. 

" Now,  Mortimer,”  says  Lady  Tippins,  rapping  the 
sticks  of  her  closed  green  fan  upon  the  knuckles  of  bel- 
ief t hand — which  is  particularly  rich  in  knuckles,  ‘'I 
insist  upon  your  telling  all  that  is  to  be  told  about  the 
man  from  Jamaica.” 

" Give  you  my  honour  I never  heard  of  any  man  from 
Jamaica,  except  the  man  who  was  a brother,”  replies 
Mortimer. 

" Tobago,  then.” 

"Nor  yet  from  Tobago.” 

" Except,”  Eugene  strikes  in  : so  unexpectedly  that 
the  mature  young  lady,  who  has  forgotten  all  about 
him,  with  a start  takes  the  epaulette  out  of  his  way  : 
" except  our  friend  who  long  lived  on  rice-pudding  and 
isinglass,  till  at  length  to  his  something  or  other,  his 
physician  said  something  else,  and  a leg  of  mutton 
somehow  ended  in  daygo.” 


THE  MAN  FROM  SOMEWHERE. 


13 


A reviving  impression  goes  round  the  table  that 
Eugene  is  coming  out.  An  unfulfilled  impression,  for 
he  goes  in  again. 

‘'Now,  my  dear  Mrs.  Veneering,”  quoth  Lady  Tip- 
pins,  “I  appeal  to  you  whether  this  is  not  the  basest 
conduct  ever  known  in  this  world  ? I carry  my  lovers 
about,  two  or  three  at  a time,  on  condition  that  they  are 
very  obedient  and  devoted  ; and  here  is  my  old  lover- 
in-chief,  the  head  of  all  my  slaves,  throwing  off  his 
allegiance  before  company  ! And  here  is  another  of 
my  lovers,  a rough  Cymon  at  present  certainly,  but  of 
whom  I had  most  hopeful  expectations  as  to  his  turning 
out  well  in  course  of  time,  pretending  that  he  can’t 
remember  his  nursery  rhymes  ! On  purpose  to  annoy 
me,  for  he  knows  how  I dote  upon  them  ! ” 

A grisly  little  fiction  concerning  her  lovers  is  Lady 
Tippin’s  point.  She  is  always  attended  by  a lover  or 
two,  and  she  keeps  a little  list  of  her  lovers,  and  she  is 
always  booking  a new  lover,  or  striking  out  an  old  lover, 
or  putting  a lover  in  her  black  list,  or  promoting  a lover 
to  her  blue  list,  or  adding  up  her  lovers,  or  otherwise 
posting  her  book.  Mrs.  Veneering  is  charmed  by  her 
humour,  and  so  is  Veneering.  Perhaps  it  is  enhanced 
by  a certain  yellow  play  in  Lady  Tippin’s  throat,  like  the 
legs  of  scratching  poultry. 

“I  banish  the  false  wretch  from  this  moment,  and  I 
strike  him  out  of  my  Cupidon  (my  name  for  my  Ledger, 
my  dear,)  this  very  night.  But  I am  resolved  to  have 
the  account  of  the  man  from  Somewhere,  and  I beg  you 
to  elicit  it  for  me,  my  love,”  to  Mrs.  Veneering,  “as  I 
have  lost  my  own  influence.  Oh,  you  perjured  man  ! ” 
This  to  Mortimer,  with  a rattle  of  her  fan. 

“We  are  all  very  much  interested  in  the  man  from 
Somewhere,  Veneering  observes. 

Then  the  four  Buffers,  taking  heart  of  grace  all  four 
at  once,  say  : 

f “ Deeply  interested  ! ” 

I “Quite  excited  !” 

I “ Dramatic  !” 

“ Man  from  Nowhere,  perhaps  ! ” 

And  then  Mrs.  Veneering — for  Lady  Tippin’s  winning 
wiles  are  contagious — folds  her  hands  in  the  manner  of 
a supplicating  child,,  turns  to  her  left  neighbor,  and 
says,  “Tease!  Pay!  Man  from  Tumwhere  ! ” At  which 


14 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


the  four  Buffers,  again  mysteriously  moved  all  four  at 
once,  exclaim,  You  canT  resist 

‘^Upon  my  life,”  says  Mortimer,  languidly,  ^‘1  find  it 
immensely  embarrassingt  o have  the  eyes  of  Europe  upon 
me  to  this  extent,  and  my  only  consolation  is  that  you 
will  all  of  you  execrate  Lady  Tippins  in  your  secret 
hearts  when  you  find,  as  you  inevitably  will,  the  man 
from  Somewhere  a bore.  Sorry  to  destroy  romance  by 
fixing  him  with  a local  habitation,  but  he  comes  from 
the  place,  the  name  of  which  escapes  me,  but  will 
suggest  itself  to  everybody  else  here,  where  they  make 
the  wine.” 

Eugene  suggests  ^^Day  and  Martin’s.” 

^^No,  not  that  place,”  returns  the  unmoved  Mortimer, 
that’s  where  they  make  the  Port.  My  man  comes  from 
the  country  where  they  make  the  Cape  Wiiie.  But  look 
here,  old  fellow  ; it’s  not  at  all  statistical  and  it’s  rather 
odd.” 

It  is  always  noticeable  at  the  table  of  the  Veneerings, 
that  no  man  troubles  himself  much  about  the  Veneer- 
ings themselves,  and  that  anyone  who  has  anything  to 
tell,  generally  tells  it  to  anybody  else  in  preference. 
‘^The  man,”  Mortimer  goes  on,  addressing  Eugene, 
whose  name  is  Harmon,  was  only  son  of  a tremendous 
old  rascal  who  made  his  money  by  Dust.” 

Red  velveteens  and  a bell  ?”  the  gloomy  Eugene  in- 
quires. 

“ And  a ladder  and  basket  if  you  like.  By  which 
means,  or  by  others,  he  grew  rich  as  a Dust  Contractor, 
and  lived  in  a hollow  in  a hilly  country  entirely  com- 
posed of  Dust.  On  his  own  small  estate  the  growling 
old  vagabond  threw  up  his  own  mountain  range,  like 
an  old  volcano,  and  its  geological  formation  was  Dust. 
Coal-dust,  vegetable-dust,  bone-dust,  crockery-dust, 
rough  dust  and  sifted  dust, — all  manner  of  Dust.” 

A passing  remembrance  of  Mrs.  Veneering  here  in- 
duces Mortimer  to  address  his  next  half-dozen  words  to 
her  ; after  which  he  wanders  away  again,  tries  Twemlow 
and  finds  he  doesn’t  ansv/er,  ultimately  takes  up  with 
the  Buffers,  who  receive  him  enthusiastically. 

“The  moral  being — I believe  that’s  the  right  expres- 
sion— of  this  exemplary  person,  derived  its  highest 
gratification  from  anathematizing  his  nearest  relations 
and  turning  them  out  of  doors.  Having  begun  (as  was 


THE  MAN  FROM  SOMEWHERE. 


15 


natural)  by  rendering  these  attentions  to  the  wife  of  his 
bosom,  he  next  found  himself  at  leisure  to  bestow  a 
similar  recognition  on  the  claims  of  his  daughter.  He 
chose  a husband  for  her,  entirely  to  his  own  satisfaction 
and  not  in  the  least  to  hers,  and  proceeded  to  settle  upon 
her,  as  her  marriage  portion,  I don’t  know  how  much 
Dust,  but  something  immense.  At  this  stage  of  the 
affair  the  poor  girl  respectfully  intimated  that  she  was 
secretly  engaged  to  that  popular  character  whom  the 
novelists  and  versifiers  call  Another,  and  that  such  a 
marriage  would  make  Dust  of  her  heart  and  Dust  of  her 
life — in  short  would  set  her  up,  on  a very  extensive 
scale,  in  her  father’s  business.  Immediately,  the  ven- 
erable parent — on  a cold  winter’s  night,  it  is  said — an- 
athematized and  turned  her  out.” 

Here,  the  Analytical  Chemist  (who  has  evidently 
formed  a very  low  opinion  of  Mortimer’s  story)  con- 
cedes a little  claret  to  the  Buffers  ; who,  again  mysteri- 
ously moved  all  four  at  once,  screw  it  slowly  into  them- 
selves with  a peculiar  twist  of  enjoyment,  as  they  cry 
out  in  chorus,  Pray  go  on.  ” 

The  pecuniary  resources  of  Another  were,  as  they 
usually  are  of  a very  limited  nature.  I believe  I am 
not  using  too  strong  an  expression  when  I say  that 
Another  Avas  hard  up.  However,  he  married  the  young 
lady,  and  they  lived  in  a humble  dwelling,  probably 
possessing  a porch  ornamented  with  honeysuckle  and 
woodbine  twining,  until  she  died.  I must  refer  you  to 
the  Registrar  of  the  District  in  which  the  humble  dwell- 
ing was  situated,  for  the  certified  cause  of  death  ; but 
early  sorrow  and  anxiety  may  have  had  to  do  with  it, 
though  they  may  not  appear  in  the  ruled  pages  and 
printed  forms.  Indisputably  this  was  the  case  with 
Another,  for  he  was  so  cut  up  by  the  loss  of  his  young 
wife  that  if  he  outlived  her  a year  it  was  as  much  as 
he  did.” 

There  is  that  in  the  indolent  Mortimer,  who  seems  to 
hint  that  if  good  society  might  on  any  account  allow 
itself  to  be  impressible,  he,  one  of  good  society,  might 
have  the  weakness ' to  be  impressed  by  what  he  here 
relates.  It  is  hidden  with  great  pains,  but  it  is  in  him. 
The  gloomy  Eugene,  too,  is  not  without  some  kindred 
touch  ; for,  when  that  appalling  Lady  Tippins  declares 
that  if  Another  had  surviA^ed,  he  should  have  gone 


16 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


down  at  the  head  of  her  list  of  lovers — and  also  when 
the  mature  young  lady  shrugs  her  epaulettes  and  laughs 
at  some  private  and  confidential  comment  from  the  ma- 
ture young  gentleman — his  goom  deepens  to  that  degree 
that  he  trifies  quite  ferociously  with  his  dessert-knife. 

Mortimer  proceeds. 

We  must  now  return,  as  the  novelists  say,  and  as  we 
all  wish  they  v»^ouldn't,  to  the  man  from  Somewhere. 
Being  a boy  of  fourteen,  cheaply  educating  at  Brussels 
when  his  sisters  expulsion  bef el,  it  was  some  little  time 
before  he  heard  of  it — probably  from  herself,  for  the 
mother  was  dead ; but  that  I don’t  know.  Instantly, 
he  absconded,  and  came  over  here.  He  must  have  been 
a boy  of  spirit  and  resource,  to  get  here  on  a stopped 
allowance  of  five  sous  a week  ; but  he  did  it  somehow, 
and  he  burst  in  on  his  father,  and  pleaded  his  sisters 
cause.  Venerable  parent  promptly  resorts  to  anathema- 
tization, and  turns  him  out.  Shocked  and  terrified  boy 
takes  flight,  seeks  his  fortune,  gets  aboard  ship,  ulti- 
mately turn  up  on  dry  land  among  the  Cape  wine  : 
small  proprietor,  farmer,  grower — whatever  you  like  to 
call  it.” 

At  this  juncture,  shuffling  is  heard  in  the  hall,  and 
tapping  is  heard  at  the  dining-room  door.  Analytical 
Chemist  goes  to  the  door,  confers  angrily  with  unseen 
tapper,  appears  to  become  mollified  by  descrying  reason 
in  the  tapping,  and  goes  out. 

'^So  he  was  discovered,  only  the  other  day,  after  hav- 
ing been  expatriated  about  fourteen  years.” 

A Buffer,  suddenly  astounding  the  other  three,  by  de- 
taching himself,  and  asserting  individuality,  inquires  : 

How  discovered,  and  why  ?” 

^^Ah!  To  be  sure.  Thank  you  for  reminding  me. 
Venerable  parent  dies.” 

Same  Buffer,  emboldened  by  success,  says  : AVhen  ?” 

^^The  other  day.  Ten  or  twelve  months  ago.” 

Analytical  Chemist  bends  and  whispers. 

Same  Buffer  inquires  with  smartness,  ''What  of?” 
But  herein  perishes  a melancholy,  example ; being  re- 
garded by  the  three  other  Buffers  with  a stony  stare, 
and  attracting  no  further  attention  from  any  mortal. 

"Venerable  parent,”  Mortimer  repeats  with  a passing 
remembrance  that  there  is  a A^eneering  at  table,  and 
for  tlie  first  time  addressing  him — '‘dies.” 


THE  MAN  FROM  SOMEWHERE. 


The  gratified  Veneering  repeats,  gravely,  ''dies,*’' 
and  folds  his  arms,  and  composes  his  brow  to  hear  it 
out  in  a judicial  manner,  when  he  finds  himself  again 
deserted  in  a bleak  world. 

"His  will  is  found,”  says  Mortimer,  catching  Mrs. 
Podsnap’s  rocking-horse’s  eye.  " It  is  dated  very  soon 
after  the  son’s  flight.  It  leaves  the  lowest  of  the  range 
of  dust  mountains,  with  some  sort  of  a dw^elling-house 
at  its  foot,  to  an  old  servant  who  is  sole  executor,  and 
all  the  rest  of  the  property — which  is  very  considerable 
— to  the  son.  He  directs  himself  to  be  buried  with  cer- 
tain eccentric  ceremonies  and  precautions  against  his 
coming  to  life,  and  with  which  I need  not  bore  you,  and 
that’s  all — except — ” and  this  ends  the  story. 

The  Analytical  Chemist  returning,  everybody  looks 
at  him.  Not  because  anybody  wants  to  see  him,  but 
because  of  that  subtle  influence  in  nature  which  impels 
humanity  to  embrace  the  slightest  opportunity  of  look- 
ing at  anything,  rather  than  the  person  w^ho  addresses 
it. 

" — Except  that  the  son’s  inheriting  is  made  condi- 
tional on  his  marrying  a girl,  who  at  the  date  of  the 
will  was  a child  of  four  or  five  years  old,  and  who  is 
now  a marriageable  young  woman.  Advertisement 
and  inquiry  discovered  the  son  in  the  man  from  Some- 
where, and  at  the  present  moment,  he  is  on  his  way 
home  from  there — no  doubt,  in  a state  of  great  astonish- 
ment— to  succeed  to  a very  large  fortune,  and  to  take  a 
wife.” 

Mrs.  Podsnap  inquires  v/hether  the  young  person  is  a 
young  person  of  personal  charms  ? Mortimer  is  unable 
to  report. 

Mr.  Podsnap  inquires  what  would  become  of  the  very 
large  fortune,  in  the  event  of  the  marriage  condition  not 
being  fulfilled  ? Mortimer  replies,  that  by  special  testa- 
mentary clause  it  would  then  go  to  the  old  servant 
above  mentioned,  passing  over  and  excluding  the  son  ; 
also,  that  if  the  son  had  not  been  living,  the  same  old 
servant  would  have  been  sole  residuary  legatee. 

Mrs.  Veneering  has  just  succeeded  in  waking  Lady 
Tippins  from  a snore,  by  dexterously  shunting  a train 
of  plates  and  dishes  at  her  knuckles  across  the  table  ; 
when  everybody  but  Mortimer  himself  becomes  aware 
that  the  Analytical  Chemist  is,  in  a ghostly  manner, 
VOL.  I.  2 I 


18 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


ofTering  him  a folded  paper.  Curiosity  detains  Mrs. 
Veneering  for  a few  moments. 

Mortimer,  in  spite  of  all  the  arts  of  the  chemist,  plac- 
idly refreshes  himself  with  a glass  of  Madeira,  and 
remains  unconscious  of  the  document  which  engrosses 
the  general  attention,  until  Lady  Tippins  (who  has  a 
habit  of  waking  totally  insensible),  having  remembered 
where  she  is,  and  recovered  a perception  of  surround- 
ing objects,  says:  Falser  man  than  Don  Juan;  why 
don’t  you  take  the  note  from  the  Commentatore?  ” 
Upon  which,  the  chemist  advances  it  under  the  nose  of 
Mortimer,  who  looks  round  at  him,  and  says: 

What’s  this?” 

Analytical  Chemist  bends  and  whispers. 

IV ho  9'^  says  Mortimer. 

Analytical  Chemist  again  bends  and  whispers. 

Mortimer  stares  at  him,  and  unfolds  the  paper.  Reads 
it,  reads  it  twice,  turns  it  over  to  look  at  the  blank  out- 
side, reads  it  a third  time. 

This  arrives  in  an  extraordinary  opportune  manner,” 
says  Mortimer  then,  looking  with  an  altered  face  round 
the  table:  ‘^this  is  the  conclusion  of  the  story  of  the 
identical  man.” 

Already  married?”  one  guesses. 

Declines  to  marry?”  another  guesses. 

Codicil  among  the  dust?”  another  guesses. 

V7hy,  no,”  says  Mortimer;  ^A^emarkable  thing,  you 
are  all  wrong.  The  story  is  completer  and  rather  more 
exciting  than  I supposed.  Man’s  drowned!” 


CHAPTER  III. 

ANOTHER  MAN. 

AS  the  disappearing  skirts  of  the  ladies  ascended  the 
Veneering  staircase,  Mortimer,  following  them 
forth  from  the  dining-room,  turned  into  a library  of 
bran-new  books,  in  bran-new  bindings  liberally  gilded, 
and  requested  to  see  the  messenger  who  had  brought 
the  paper.  He  was  a boy  of  about  fifteen.  Mortimer 
looked  at  the  boy,  and  the  boy  looked  at  the  bran-new 


ANOTHER  MAN. 


19 


pilgrims  on  the  wall,  going  to  Canterbury  in  more  gold 
frame  than  procession,  and  more  carving  than  country. 

Whose  writing  is  this 

Mine,  sir.” 

Who  told  you  to  write  it  ?” 

My  father,  Jesse  Hexam.” 

^Hs  it  he  who  found  the  body  ?” 

''  Yes,  sir.” 

What  is  your  father  ?” 

The  boy  hesitated,  looked  reproachfully  at  the  pilgrims 
as  if  they  had  involved  him  in  a little  difficulty,  then 
said,  folding  a plait  in  the  right  leg  of  his  trousers,  He 
gets  his  living  along-shore.” 

'Hs  it  far  ?” 

Is  which  far  ?”  asked  the  boy,  upon  his  guard,  and 
again  upon  the  road  to  Canterbury. 

To  your  father’s  ? ” 

It’s  a goodish  stretch,  sir.  I come  up  in  a cab,  and 
the  cab’s  waiting  to  be  paid.  We  could  go  back  in  it 
before  you  paid  it,  if  you  liked.  I went  first  to  your 
office,  according  to  the  direction  of  the  papers  found  in 
the  pockets,  and  there  I see  nobody  but  a chap  of  about 
my  age  who  sent  me  on  here.” 

There  was  a curious  mixture  in  the  boy  of  uncom- 
pleted savagery  and  incompleted  civilization.  His 
voice  was  hoarse  and  coarse,  and  his  face  was  coarse, 
and  his  stunted  figure  was  coarse  ; but  he  was  cleaner 
than  other  boys  of  his  type  ; and  his  writing,  though 
large  and  round,  was  good  ; and  he  glanced  at  the 
backs  of  the  books  with  an  awakened  curiosity  that 
went  below  the  binding.  No  one  who  can  read,  ever 
looks  at  a book,  even  unopened  on  a shelf,  like  one  who 
cannot. 

Were  any  means  taken,  do  you  know,  boy,  to  ascer- 
tain if  it  was  possible  to  restore  life  ? ” Mortimer  in- 
quired, as  he  sought  for  his  hat. 

‘Wou  wouldn’t  ask,  sir,  if  you  knew  his  state. 
Pharaoh’s  multitude  that  were  drowned  in  the  Red  Sea, 
ain’t  more  beyond  restoring  to  life.  If  Lazarus  was 
only  half  as  far  gone,  that  was  the  greatest  of  all  the 
miracles.” 

Halloa!”  cried  Mortimer,  turning  round  with  his 
hat  upon  his  head,  you  seem  to  be  at  home  in  the  Red 
Sea,  my  youRg  friend  ? ” 


20 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Read  of  it  with  teacher  at  the  school/’  said  the  boy. 

And  Lazarus  ? ” 

^‘Yes,  and  him  too.  But  don’t  you  tell  my  father! 
We  should  have  no  peace  in  our  place,  if  that  got 
touched  upon.  It’s  my  sister’s  contriving.” 

You  seem  to  have  a good  sister.” 

She  ain’t  half  bad,”  said  the  boy  ; but  if  she  knows 
her  letters  it’s  the  most  she  does— and  them  I learned  her.  ” 

The  gloomy  Eugene,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets, 
had  strolled  in  and  assisted  at  the  latter  part  of  the 
dialogue  ; when  the  boy  spoke  these  words  slightingly 
of  his  sister,  he  took  him  roughly  enough  by  the  chin, 
and  turned  up  his  face  to  look  at  it. 

Well,  I’m  sure,  sir!”  said  the  boy,  resisting;  ^'I 
hope  you’ll  know  me  again.” 

Eugene  vouchsafed  no  answer  : but  made  the  proposal 
to  Mortimer,  I’ll  go  with  you,  if  you  like  ?”  So,  they 
all  three  went  away  together  in  the  vehicle  that  had 
brought  the  boy ; the  two  friends  (once  boys  together 
at  a public  school)  inside,  smoking  cigars ; the  mes- 
senger on  the  box  beside  the  driver. 

Let  me  see,”  said  Mortimer,  as  they  went  along  ; I 
have  been,  Eugene,  upon  the  honourable  roll  of  solicitors 
of  the  High  Court  of  Chancery,  and  attorneys  at  Com- 
mon Law,  five  years  ; and — except  gratuitously  taking 
instructions,  on  an  average  once  a fortnight,  for  the 
will  of  Lady  Tippins  who  has  nothing  to  leave — I have 
had  no  scrap  of  business  but  this  romantic  business.  ” 

''And  I,”  said  Eugene,  "have  been  'called’  seven 
years,  and  have  had  no  business  at  all,  and  never  shall 
have  any.  And  if  I had,  I shouldn’t  know  how  to  do  it.” 

" I am  far  from  being  clear  as  to  the  last  particular,” 
returned  Mortimer,  with  great  composure,  " that  I have 
much  advantage  over  you.” 

" I hate,”  said  Eugene,  putting  his  legs  up  on  the 
opposite  seat,  " I hate  my  profession.” 

" Shall  I incommode  you  if  I put  mine  up  too?”  re- 
turned Mortimer.  " Thank  you.  I hate  mine.” 

It  was  forced  upon  me,”  said  the  gloomy  Eugene, 
"because  it  was  understood  that  we  wanted  a barrister 
in  the  family.  We  have  got  a precious  one.” 

"It  was  forced  upon  me,”  said  Mortimer,  "because 
it  was  understood  that  we  wanted  a solicitor  in  tlie 
family.  And  we  have  got  a precious  one.”* 


ANOTHER  MAN. 


21 


There  are  four  of  us,  with  our  names  printed  on  a 
door-post  in  sight  of  one  black  hole  called  a set  of 
chambers/’  said  Eugene;  and  each  of  us  has  the  fourth 
of  a clerk — Oassim  Baba,  in  the  robber’s  cave — and 
Cassim  is  the  only  respectable  member  of  the  party.” 

I am  one  by  myself,  one,”  sai^  Mortimer,  high  up 
an  awful  staircase  commanding  a burial-ground,  and  I 
have  a whole  clerk  to  myself,  and  he  has  nothing  to  do 
but  look  at  the  burial-  ground,  and  what  he  will  turn 
out  when  arrived  at  maturity,  I cannot  conceive. 
Whether,  in  that  shabby  rook’s  nest,  he  is  always  plot- 
ting wisdom,  or  plotting  murder;  whether  he  will  grow 
up,  after  so  much  solitary  brooding,  to  enlighten  his 
fellow-creatures,  or  to  poison  them;  is  the  only  speck  of 
interest  that  presents  itself  to  my  professional  view. 
Will  you  give  me  a light?  Thank  you.” 

Then  idiots  talk,”  said  Eugene,  leaning  back,  folding 
his  arms,  smoking  with  his  eyes  shut,  and  speaking 
slightly  through  his  nose,  ^^of  Energy.  If  there  is  a 
word  in  the  dictionary  under  any  letter  from  4-  to  Z 
that  I abominate,  it  is  energy.  It  is  such  a conventional 
superstition,  such  parrot  gabble  ! What  the  deuce  ! Am 
I to  rush  out  into  the  street,  collar  the  first  man  of  a 
wealthy  appearance  that  I meet,  shake  him,  and  say, 
^ Go  to  law  upon  the  spot,  you  dog,  and  retain  me,  or 
I’ll  be  the  death  of  you’?  Yet  that  would  be  energy.” 

‘^Precisely  my  view  of  the  case,  Eugene.  But  show 
me  a good  opportunity,  show  me  something  really 
worth  being  energetic  about,  and  J’ll  show  you  energy.” 

And  so  will  I,”  said  Eugene. 

And  it  is  likely  enough  that  ten  thousand  other  young 
men,  within  the  limits  of  the  London  Post-office  town 
delivery,  made  the  same  hopeful  remark  in  the  course 
of  the  same  evening. 

The  wheels  rolled  on,  and  rolled  down  by  the  Monu- 
ment, and  by  the  Tower,  and  by  the  Docks ; down  by 
Ratcliffe,  and  by  Rotherhithe  ; down  by  where  accumu- 
lated scum  of  humanity  seemed  to  be  washed  from 
higher  grounds,  like  so  much  moral  sewage,  and  to  be 
pausing  until  its  own  weight  forced  it  over  the  bank  and 
sunk  it  in  the  river.  In  and  out  among  vessels  that 
seemed  to  have  got  ashore,  and  houses  that  seemed  to 
have  got  afloat — among  bowsprits  staring  into  windows, 
and  windows  staring  into  ships— the  wheels  rolled  on, 


22 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEJ^D. 


until  they  stopped  at  a dark  corner,  river- washed  and 
otherwise  not  washed  at  all,  where  the  boy  alighted 
and  opened  the  door. 

'^You  must  walk  the  rest,  sir,  it’s  not  many  yards. 
He  spoke  in  the  singular  number,  to  the  express  exclu- 
sion of  Eugene.  - ^ 

''This  is  a confoundedly  out-of-the-way  nlace,”  said 
Mortimer,  slipping  over  the  stones  and  refuse  on  the 
shore,  as  the  boy  turned  the  corner  sharp. 

" Here’s  my  father’s,  sir;  v/here  tk^  light  is.” 

The  low  building  had  the  look  oi  naving  once  been 
a mill.  There  was  a rotten  wart  of  wood  upon  its  fore- 
head that  seemed  to  indicate  where  the  sails  had  been, 
but  the  whole  was  very  indistinctly  seen  in  the  obscurity 
of  the  night.  The  boy  lifted  the  latch  of  the  door,  and 
they  passed  at  once  into  a low  circular  room,  where  a 
man  stood  before  a red  fire,  looking  down  into  it,  and  a 
girl  sat  engaged  in  needlework.  The  fire  was  in  a rusty 
brazier,  not  fitted  to  the  hearth;  and  a common  lamp, 
shaped  like  a hyacitch-root,  smoked  and  flared  in  the 
neck  of  a stone  bottle  on  the  table.  There  was  a wooden 
bunk  or  berth  in  a corner,  and  in  another  corner  a 
wooden  stair  leading  above— so  clumsy  and  steep  that 
it  was  little  better  than  a ladder.  Two  or  three  old 
sculls  and  oars  stood  against  the  wall,  and  against  an- 
other part  of  the  wall  was  a small  dresser,  making  a 
spare  show  of  the  commonest  articles  of  crockery  and 
cooking  vessels.  The  roof  of  the  room  was  not  plas- 
tered, but  was  formed  of  the  fiooring  of  the  room  above. 
This  being  very  old,  knotted,  seamed,  and  beamed, 
gave  a lowering  aspect  to  the  chamber  ; and  roof,  and 
walls,  and  floor,  alike  abounding  in  old  smears  of  flour, 
red-lead  (or  some  such  stain  which  it  had  probably 
acquired  in  warehousing),  and  damp,  alike  had  a look 
of  decomposition. 

"The  gentleman,  father.” 

The  figure  at  the  red  fire  turned,  raised  its  ruffled 
head,  and  looked  like  a bird  of  prey. 

" You’re  Mortimer  Light  wood,  Esquire;  are  you,  sir?” 

‘'Mortimer  Lightwood  is  my  name.  What  you 
found,  ” said  Mortimer,  glancing  rather  shrinkingiy 
towards  the  bunk;  "is  it  here?” 

" ’Tain’t  not  to  say  here,  but  it’s  close  by.  I do  every- 
thing reg’lar.  I’ve  giv’  notice  of  the  circumstarnce  to 

* 


ANOTHER  MAN. 


23 

the  police,  and  the  police  have  took  possession  of  it. 
No  time  ain’t  been  lost,  on  any  hand.  The  police  have 
put  it  into  print  already,  and  here’s  what  the  print 
says  of  it.  ” 

Taking  up  the  bottle  with  lamp  in  it,  he  held  it  near 
a paper  on  the  wall,  with  the  police  heading.  Body 
Found.  The  two  friends  read  the  handbill  as  it  stuck 
against  the  wall,  and  Gaffer  read  them  as  he  held  the 
light. 

'^Only  papers  on  the  unfortunate  man,  I see,  ” said 
Lightwood,  glancing  from  the  description  of  what  was 
found,  to  the  finder. 

Only  papers.” 

Here  the  girl  arose  with  her  work  in  her  hand,  and 
went  out  at  the  door. 

No  money,  ” pursued  Mortimer  ; but  threepence  in 
one  of  the  skirt-pockets.” 

Three.  Penny.  Pieces,  ” said  Gaffer  Hexam,  in  as 
many  sentences. 

‘‘The  trousers  pockets  empty,  and  turned  inside  out.” 

Gaffer  Hexam  nodded.  “But  that’s  common.  Wheth- 
er it’s  the  wash  of  the  tide  or  no,  I can’t  say.  Now, 
here,  ” moving  the  light  to  another  similar  placard,  “ his 
pockets  was  found  empty,  and  turned  inside  out.  “ And 
here,”  moving  the  light  to  emother,  “her  pocket  was 
found  empty,  and  turned  inside  out.  And  so  was  this 
one’s.  And  so  was  that  one’s.  I can’t  read,  nor  I don’t 
want  to  do  it,  for  I know  ’em  by  their  places  on  the  wall. 
This  one  was  a sailor,  with  two  anchors  and  a flag  and 
G.  F.  T.  on  his  arm.  Look  and  see  if  he  warn’t.” 

“ Quite  right.” 

“This  one  was  the  young  woman  in  gray  boots,  and 
her  linen  marked  with  a cross.  Look  and  see  if  she 
warn’t.” 

“ Quite  right.” 

“ This  is  him  as  had  a nasty  cut  over  the  eye.  This  is 
them  two  young  sisters  what  tied  themselves  together 
with  a handkecher.  This  is  the  drunken  old  chap,  in  a 
pair  of  list  slippers  and  a nightcap,  wot  had  offered — it 
afterwards  come  out — to  make  a hole  in  the  water  for  a 
quartern  of  rum  stood  aforehand,  and  kept  to  his  word 
for  the  first  and  last  time  in  his  life.  They  pretty  well 
papers  the  room,  you  see  ; but  I know  ’em  all.  Pm 
scholar  enough  ! ” 


u 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


He  waved  the  light  over  the  whole,  as  if  to  typify  the 
light  of  his  scholarly  intelligence,  and  then  put  it  down 
on  the  table  and  stood  behind  it  looking  intently  at  his 
visitors.  He  had  the  special  peculiarity  of  some  birds 
of  prey,  that  when  he  knitted  his  brow,  his  ruffled  crest 
stood  highest. 

You  did  not  find  all  these  yourself  ; did  you  ? ’’  asked 
Eugene. 

To  which  the  bird  of  prey  slowly  rejoined,  ^‘^And 
what  might  your  name  be,  now  ? ” 

This  is  my  friend,  Mortimer  Light  wood  interposed  ; 
^^Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn.” 

Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn,  is  it  ? And  what  might  Mr. 
Eugene  Wrayburn  have  asked  of  me  ?” 

I asked  you,  simply,  if  you  found  all  these  yourself  ? ’’ 

''  I answer  you,  simply,  most  on  ’ em.” 

^^Do  you  suppose  there  has  been  much  violence  and 
robbery,  beforehand,  among  these  cases  ? ” 

''  I don’t  suppose  at  all  about  it,  ” returned  Gaffer.  I 
ain’t  one  of  the  supposing  sort.  If  you’d  got  your  living 
to  haul  out  of  the  river  every  day  of  your  life,  you 
mightn’t  be  much  given  to  supposing.  Am  I to  show 
the  way  ? ” 

As  he  opened  the  door,  in  pursuance  of  a nod  from 
Lightwood,  an  extremely  pale  and  disturbed  face  ap- 
peared in  the  doorway — the  face  of  a man  much 
agitated. 

-^A  body  missing?”  asked  Gaffer  Hexam,  stopping 
short ; or  a body  found  ? Which  ” ? 

am  lost!”  replied  the  man,  in  a hurried  and  an 
eager  manner. 

''  Lost  ?” 

I — I — am  a stranger,  and  don’t  know  the  way.  I — 
I want  to  find  the  place  where  I can  see  what  is  de- 
scribed here.  It  is  possible  I may  know  it.”  He  was 
panting,  and  could  hardly  speak  ; but  he  showed  a 
copy  of  the  newly-printed  bill  that  was  still  wet  upon 
the  wall.  Perhaps  its  newness,  or  perhaps  the  accu- 
racy of  his  observations  of  its  general  look,  guided  Gaf- 
fer to  a ready  conclusion. 

This  gentle  nan,  Mr.  Lightwood,  is  on  that  business.” 

''  Mr.  Lightwood  ? ” 

During  a pause,  Mortimer  and  the  stranger  confron- 
ted each  other.  Neither  knew  the  other. 


ANOTHER  MAN. 


25 


I think,  sir,  ’’  said  Mortimer,  breaking  the  awkward 
silence  with  his  airy  self-possession,  ‘'that  you  did  me 
the  honour  to  mention  my  name  ? ” 

“I  repeated  it,  after  this  man.” 

“You  said  you  were  a stranger  in  London  ? ” 

“An  utter  stranger.” 

“ Are  you  seeking  a Mr.  Harmon  ?” 

“No.” 

“Then  I believe  I can  assure  you  that  you  are  on  a 
fruitless  errand  and  will  not  find  what  you  fear  to  find. 
Will  you  come  with  us  ?” 

A little  winding  through  some  muddy  alleys  that 
might  have  been  deposited  by  the  last  ill-savoured  tide, 
brought  them  to  the  wicket-gate  and  bright  lamp  of  a 
Police  Station ; where  they  found  the  Night-Inspector, 
with  a pen  and  ink,  and  ruler,  posting  up  his  books  in 
a whitewashed  office,  as  studiously  as  if  it  were  in  a 
monastery  on  the  top  of  a mountain,  and  no  howling 
fury  of  a drunken  woman  were  banging  herself  against 
a cell-door  in  the  backyard  at  his  elbow.  With  the  same 
air  of  a recluse  much  given  to  study,  he  desisted  from 
his  books  to  bestow  a distrustful  nod  of  recognition 
upon  Gaffer,  plainly  importing,  “Ah!  we  know  aJl 
about  you,-  and  youdl  overdo  it  some  day;  ” and  to  inform 
Mr.  Mortimer  Lightwood  and  friends,  that  he  wc  ild 
attend  them  immediately.  Then,  he  finished  ruling  the 
work  he  had  in  his  hand  (it  might  have  been  illuminat- 
ing a missal,  he  was  so  calm),  in  a very  neat  and 
methodical  manner,  showing  not  the  slightest  conscious- 
ness of  the  woman  who  was  banging  herself  with 
increased  violence,  and  shrieking  most  terrifically  for 
some  other  woman’s  liver. 

“ A- bull’s-eye,”  said  the  Night-Inspector,  taking  up 
his  keys.  Which  a deferential  satellite  produced. 
“Now,  gentlemen.” 

With  one  of  his  keys,  he  opened  a cool  grot  at  the  end 
of  the  yard,  and  they  all  went  in.  They  quickly  came 
out  again,  no  one  speaking  but  Eugene  : who  remarked 
to  Mortimer,  in  a whisper,  “ Not  much  worse  than  Lady 
Tippins.” 

So,  back  to  the  whitewashed  library  of  the  monastery 
— with  that  liver  still  in  shrieking  requisition,  as  it  had 
been  loudly,  while  they  looked  at  the  silent  sight  they 
came  to  see — and  there  through  the  merits  of  the  case 


26 


OUE  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


as  summed  up  by  the  Abbot.  No  clue  to  how  body  came 
into  river.  Very  often  was  no  clue.  Too  late  to  know 
for  certain,  whether  injuries  received  before  or  after 
death  ; one  excellent  surgical  opinion  said,  before  ; other 
excellent  surgical  opinion  said,  after.  Steward  of  ship 
in  which  gentleman  came  home  passenger,  had  been 
round  to  view,  and  could  swear  to  identity.  Likewise 
could  swear  to  clothes.  And  then,  you  see,  you  had  the 
papers,  too.  How  was  it  he  had  totally  disappeared  on 
leaving  ship,  till  found  in  river  ? Well ! Probably  had 
been  upon  some  little  game.  Probably  thought  it  a 
harmless  game,  wasn’t  up  to  things,  and  it  turned  out 
a.  fatal  game.  Inquest  to-morrow,  and  no  doubt  open 
verdict. 

It  appears  to  have  knocked  your  friend  over — 
knocked  him  completely  off  his  legs,”  Mr.  Inspector 
remarked,  when  ho  had  finished  his  summing  up.  ''  It 
has  given  him  a bad  turn  to  be  sure ! ” This  was  said  in 
a very  low  voice,  and  with  a searching  look  (not  the 
first  he  had  cast  at  the  stranger.) 

Mr.  Lightwood  explained  that  it  was  no  friend  of 
his. 

'Hndeed,”  said  Mr.  Inspector,  with  an  attentive  ear: 

where  did  you  pick  him  up?” 

Mr.  Lightwood  explained  further. 

Mr.  Inspector  had  delivered  his  summing  up,  and  had 
added  these  words,  with  his  elbows  leaning  on  his  desk 
and  the  fingers  and  thumb  of  his  right  hand,  fitting 
themselves  to  the  fingers  and  thumb  of  his  left.  Mr. 
Inspector  moved  nothing  but  his  eyes,  as  he  now  added, 
raising  his  voice: 

Turned  you  faint,  sir!  Seems  joivre  not  accustomed 
to  this  kind  of  work ! ” 

The  stranger,  who  was  leaning  against  the  chimney- 
piece  with  drooping  head,  looked  round  and  answered, 
'‘No.  It’s  a horrible  sight! ” 

‘‘You  expected  to  identify,  I am  told,  sir?” 

"Yes.” 

‘‘Have  you  identified?” 

"No.  It’s  a horrible  sight.  O!  a horrible,  horrible 
sight ! ” 

" Who  did  you  think  it  might  have  been?”  asked  Mr. 
Inspector.  " Give  us  a description,  sir.  Perhaps  we 
can  help  you.” 


ANOTHER  MAN. 


27 


No,  no/’  said  the  stranger;  ^Ot  would  be  quite  use- 
less. Good-night.  ” 

Mr.  Inspector  had  not  moved,  and  had  given  no  order; 
but,  the  satellite  slipped  his  back  against  the  wicket, 
and  laid  his  left  arm  along  the  top  of  it,  and  with  his 
right  hand  turned  the  bull’s  eye  he  had  taken  from  his 
chief — in  quite  a casual  manner — towards  the  stran- 
ger. 

^^You  missed  a friend,  you  know;  or  you  missed  a 
foe,  you  know;  or  you  wouldn’t  have  come  here,  you 
know.  Well,  then;  ain’t  it  reasonable  to  ask,  who  was 
it?”  Thus,  Mr.  Inspector. 

^‘Yon  must  excuse  my  telling  you.  No  class  of  m.an 
can  understand  better  than  you,  that  families  may  not 
choose  to  publish  their  disagreements  and  misfortunes, 
except  on  the  last  necessity.  I do  not  dispute  that  you 
discharge  your  duty  in  asking  me  the  question;  you  will 
not  dispute  my  right  to  withhold  the  answer.  Good- 
night.” 

Again  he  turned  towa^s  the  wicket,  where  the  sat- 
ellite, with  his  eye  upon  his  chief,  remained  a dumb 
statue. 

At  least,”  said  Mr.  Inspector,  '‘  you  will  not  object 
to  leave  me  your  card,  sir  ?” 

"I  should  not  object,  if  I had  one;  but  I have  not.” 
He  reddened  and  was  much  confused  as  he  gave  the 
answer. 

"At  least,”  said  Mr.  Inspector,  with  no  change  of 
voice  or  manner,  "you  will  not  object  to  write  down 
your  name  and  address  ? ” 

"Not  at  all.” 

Mr.  Inspector  dipped  a pen  in  his  inkstand,  and  deftly 
laid  it  on  a piece  of  paper  close  beside  him ; then  re- 
sumed his  former  attitude.  The  stranger  stepped  up  to 
the  desk,  and  wrote  in  a rather  tremulous  hand — Mr. 
Inspector  taking  sidelong  note  of  every  hair  of  his  head 
when  it  was  bent  down  for  the  purpose — "Mr.  Julius 
Handford,  Exchequer  Coffee  House,  Palace  Yard,  West- 
minster.” 

" Staying  there,  I presume,  sir  ?” 

" Staying  there. 

" Consequently  from  the  country  ? ” 

" Eh  ? Yes — from  the  country.” 

"Good-night,  sir.” 


28 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


The  satellite  removed  his  arm  and  opened  the  wicket, 
and  Mr.  Julius  Handford  went  out. 

''Reserve  !”  said  Mr.  Inspector.  "Take  care  of  this 
piece  of  paper,  keep  him  in  view  without  giving  offence, 
ascertain  that  he  is  staying  there,  and  find  out  anything 
you  can  about  him.” 

The  satellite  was  gone;  and  Mr.  Inspector,  becoming 
once  again  the  quiet  Abbot  of  that  Monastery,  dipped 
his  pen  in  his  ink  and  resumed  his  books.  The  two 
friends  who  had  watched  him,  more  amused  by  the  pro- 
fessional manner  than  suspicious  of  Mr.  Julius  Hand- 
ford,  inquired  before  taking  their  departure  too,  whether 
he  believed  there  was  anything  that  really  looked  bad 
here  ? 

The  Abbot  replied  with  reticence,  "Couldn't  say.  If  a 
murder,  anybody  might  have  done  it.  Burglary  or 
pocket-picking  wanted  ’prenticeship.  Not  so,  murder. 
We  were  all  of  us  up  to  that.  Had  seen  scores  of  people 
come  to  identify,  and  never  saw  one  person  struck  in 
that  particular  way.  Mig]jt,  however,  have  been 
Stomach  and  not  Mind.  If  so,  rum  stomach.  But  to  be 
sure  there  were  rum  everythings.  Pity  there  was  not 
a word  of  truth  in  that  superstition  about  bodies  bleed- 
ing when  touched  by  the  hand  of  the  right  person;  you 
never  got  a sign  out  of  bodies.  You  got  row  enough  out 
of  such  as  her — she  was  good  for  all  night  now  ” (refer- 
ring here  to  the  banging  demands  for  the  liver),  " but 
you  got  nothing  out  of  bodies  if  it  was  ever  so.” 

There  being  nothing  more  to  be  done  until  the  Inquest 
was  held  next  day,  the  friends  went  away  together, 
and  Gaffer  Hexam  and  his  son  went  their  separate  waj^ 
But,  arriving  at  the  last  corner.  Gaffer  bade  his  boy  go 
home  while  he  turned  into  a red-curtained  tavern,  that 
stood  dropsically  bulging  over  the  causeway,  " for  a 
half-a-pint.” 

The  boy  lifted  the  latch  he  had  lifted  before,  and 
found  his  sister  again  seated  before  the  fire  at  her  work. 
Who  raised  her  head  upon  his  coming  in  and  asking: 

" Where  did  you  go,  Liz?” 

" I went  out  into  the  dark.” 

" There  was  no  necessity  for  tha#.  It  was  all  right 
enough.” 

" One  of  the  gentlemen,  the  one  who  didn’t  speak 
while  I was  there,  looked  hard  at  me.  And  I was  afraid 


ANOTHER  MAN. 


20 


he  might  know  what  my  face  meant.  But  there!  Don’t 
mind  me,  Charley!  I was  all  in  a tremble  of  another 
sort  when  you  owned  to  father  you  could  write  a little.” 

Ah!  But  I made  believe  I wrote  so  badly,  as  that  it 
was  odds  if  any  one  could  read  it.  And  when  I wrote 
slowest  and  smeared  out  with  my  finger  most,  father 
was  best  pleased,  as  he  stood  looking  over  me.” 

The  girl  put  aside  her  work,  and  drawing  her  seat 
close  to  his  seat  by  the  fire,  laid  her  arm  gently  on  hisr 
shoulder. 

You’ll  make  the  most  of  your  time,  Charley  ; won’t 
you?” 

Won’t  I?  Come!  I like  that.  Don’t  I?” 

Yes,  Charley,  yes.  You  work  hard  at  your  learn- 
ing, I know.  And  I work  a little,  Charley,  and  plan 
and  contrive  a little  (wake  out  of  my  sleep,  contriving 
sometimes),  how  to  get  together  a shilling  now,  and  a 
shilling  then,  that  shall  make  father  believe  you  are 
beginning  to  earn  a stray  living  along  shore.” 

^Wou  are  father’s  favourite,  and  can  make  him  be- 
lieve anything.” 

wish  I could,  Charley  ! For  if  I could  make  him 
believe  that  learning  was  a good  thing,  and  that  we 
might  lead  better  lives,  I should  be  a’most  content  to 
die.” 

Don’t  talk  stuff  about  dying,  Liz.” 

She  placed  her  hands  on  one  another  on  his  shoulder, 
and  laying  her  rich  brown  cheek  against  them  as  she 
looked  down  at  the  fire,  went  on  thoughtfully  : 

Of  an  evening,  Charley,  when  you  are  at  the  school, 
and  father’s — ” 

At  the  Six  Jolly  Fellowship-Porters,”  the  boy  struck 
in,  with  a backward  nod  of  his  head  towards  the 
public-house. 

Yes.  Then  as  I sit  a-looking  at  the  fire,  I seem  to 
see  in  the  burning  coal — like  where  that  glow  is  now — ” 

That’s  gas,  that  is,”  said  the  boy,  '^coming  out  of  a 
bit  of  a forest  that’s  been  under  the  mud  that  was  under 
the  water  in  the  days  of  Noah’s  Ark.  Look  here  ! 
When  I take  the  poker — so — and  give  it  a dig — ” 

'•  Don’t  disturb  it,  Charley,  or  it’ll  be  all  in  a blaze. 
It’s  that  dull  glow  near  it,  coming  and  going,  that  I 
mean.'  When  I look  at  it  of  an  evening,  it  comes  like 
pictures  to  me,  Charley.” 


# 

:]0  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

‘^^Show  us  a picture,-’ said  the  boy.  Tell  us  where 
to  look.’’ 

Ah  ! It  Avants  my  eyes,  Charley.” 

''Cut  a way,  then,  and  tellusAvhat  your  eyes  make  of  it.” 

" Why,  there  are  you  and  me,  Charley,  when  you 
were  quite  a baby  that  never  knew  a mother — ” 

" Don’t  go  saying  I never  knew  a mother,”  interposed 
the  boy,  "for  I knew  a little  sister  that  was  sister  and 
mother  both.” 

The  girl  laughed  delightedly,  and  her  eyes  filled  Avith 
pleasant  tears,  as  he  put  both  his  arms  round  her  waist 
and  so  held  her. 

"There  are  you  and  me,  Charley,  Avhen  fathei  was 
aAvay  at  Avork  and  locked  us  out,  for  fear  we  should  set 
ourselves  afire  or  fall  out  of  w^indow,  sitting  on  ‘ the 
door-sill,  sitting  on  other  door-steps,  sitting  on  the  bank 
of  a river,  wandering  about  to  get  through  the  time. 
You  are  rather  heavy  to  carry,  Charley,  and  I am  often 
obliged  to  rest.  Sometimes  we  are  sleepy  and  fall 
asleep  together  in  a corner,  sometimes  Ave  are  very 
hungry,  sometimes  we  are  a little  frightened,  but  what 
is  oftenest  hard  upon  us  is  the  cold.  You  remember, 
Charley.” 

"i  remember,”  said  the  boy,  pressing  her  to  him 
twice  or  thrice,  "that  I snuggled  under  a little  shawl, 
and  it  was  warm  there.” 

" Sometimes  it  rains,  and  AA^e  creep  under  a boat  or 
the  like  of  that;  sometimes  it’s  dark,  and  Ave  get  among 
the  gaslights,  sitting  watching  the  people  as  they  go 
along  the  streets.  At  last,  up  comes  father  and  takes 
us  home.  And  home  seems  such  a shelter  after  out  of 
doors!  And  father  pulls  my  shoes  off,  and  dries  my  feet 
at  the  fire,  and  has  me  to  sit  by  him  while  he  smokes 
his  pipe  long  after  you  are  abed,  and  I notice  that 
father’s  is  a large  hand  but  never  a heaA^y  one  Avhen  it 
touches  me,  and  that  father’s  is  a rough  A^oice  but  never 
an  angry  one  when  it  speaks  to  me.  So,  I grow  up,  and 
little  by  little  father  trusts  me,  and  makes  me  his  com- 
panion, and,  let  him  be  put  out  as  he  may,  never  once 
strikes  me.” 

The  listening  boy  gave  a grunt  here,  as  much  as  to 
say,  " But  he  strikes  me  though!” 

" Those  are  some  of  the  pictures  of  what  is  past,  Char- 
ley.” 


ANOTHER  MAN. 


;]] 

''  Cut  away  again/’  said  the  boy,  and  give  us  a for- 
tune-telling one;  a future  one.” 

Well!  There  am  I,  continuing  with  father  and  hold- 
ing to  father,  because  father  loves  me  and  I love  father. 

I can’t  so  much  as  read  a book,  because  if  I had  learned, 
father  would  have  thought  I was  deserting  him,  and  I 
should  have  lost  my  influence.  I have  not  the  influence 
I want  to  have,  I cannot  stop  some  dreadful  things  I 
try  to  stop,  but  I go  on  in  the  hope  and  trust  that  the 
time  will  come.  In  the  mean  while  I know  that  I am  * 
in  some  things  a stay  to  father,  and  that  if  I was  not 
faithful  to  him  he  would — in  revenge  like,  or  in  disap- 
pointment, or  both — go  wild  and  bad.” 

Give  us  a touch  of  the  fortune  - telling  pictures 
about  me.” 

‘‘1  was  passing  on  to  them,  Charley,”  said  the  girl, 
who  had  not  changed  her  attitude  since  she  began,  and 
who  now  mournfully  shook  her  head;  the  others  were 
all  leading  up.  There  are  you — ” ^ 

Where  am  I,  Liz? ” 

Still  in  the  hollow  down  by  the  flare.” 

There  seems  to  be  the  deuce-and-all  in  the  hollow 
down  by  the  flare,”  said  the  boy,  glancing  from  her  eyes 
to  the  brazier,  which  had  a grisly  skeleton  look  on  its 
long  thin  legs. 

There  are  you,  Charley,  working  your  way,  in  secret 
from  father,  at  the  school ; and  you  get  prizes  ; and  you 
go  on  better  and  better ; and  you  come  to  be  a — what 
was  it  you  called  it  when  you  told  me  about  that  ? ” 

^^Ha,  ha  I Fortune-telling  not  know  the  name!” 
cried  the  boy,  seeming  to  be  rather  relieved  by  this 
default  on  the  part  of  the  hollow  down  by  the  flare. 

^ ^ Pupil-teacher.  ” ^ 

^ Wou  come  to  be  a pupil-teacher,  and  you  still  go  on 
better  and  better,  and  you  rise,  to  be  a master  full  of 
learning  and  respect.  But  the  secret  has  come  to 
father’s  knowledge  long  before,  and  it  has  divided  you 
from  father,  and  from  me.” 

No,  it  hasn’t !” 

^ Wes,  it  has,  Charley.  I see,  as  plain  as  plain  can  be, 
that  your  way  is  not  ours,  and  that  even  if  father  could 
be  got  to  forgive  your  taking  it  (which  he  never  could 
be),  that  way  of  yours  would  be  darkened  by  our  way. 
But  I see  too,  Charley — ” 


3*^  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND, 


“Still  as  plain  as  plain  can  be,  Liz?'’  asked  the  boy 
playfully. 

Ah  I Still.  That  it  is  a great  work  to  have  cut  you 
away  from  father’s  life,  and  to  have  made  a new  and 
good  beginning.  So  there  am  I,  Charley,  left  alone  with 
father,  keeping  him  as  straight  as  I can,  watching  for 
more  influence  than  I have,  and  hoping  that  through 
some  fortunate  chance,  or  when  he  is  ill,  or  wdien — I 
don’t  know  what — I may  turn  him  to  Avish  to  do  better 
things.” 

'‘  You  said  you  couldn’t  read  a book,  Lizzie.  Your 
library  of  books  is  the  holloAv  down  by  the  flare,  I 
think.” 

"I  should  be  very  glad  to  be  able  to  read  real  books. 
I feel  my  Avant  of  learning  very  much,  Charley.  But  I 
should  feel  it  much  more,  if  I didn’t  know  it  to  be  a tie 
betAveen  me  and  father. — Hark  ! Fathers  tread  ! ” 

It  being  noAv  past  midnight,  the  bird  of  prey  Avent 
straight  to  roost.  At  mid-day  following  he  reappeared 
at  the  Six  Jolly  FelloAvship-Porters,  in  the  character, 
not  neAv  to  him,  of  a Avitness  before  a Coroners  Jury. 

Mr.  Mortimer  LightAAmod,  besides  sustaining  the  char- 
acter of  one  of  the  Avitnesses,  doubled  the  part  Avith 
that  of  the  eminent  solicitor  Avho  Avatched  the  proceed- 
ings on  behalf  of  the  representatives  of  the  deceased, 
as  Avas  duly  recorded  in  the  newspapers.  Mr.  Inspector 
watched  the  proceedings  too,  and  kept  his  Avatching 
closely  to  himself.  Mr.  Julius  Handford  haAung  giA^en 
his  right  address,  and  being  reported  in  solvent  circum- 
stances as  to  his  bill,  though  nothing  more  AA^as  knoAvn 
of  him  at  his  hotel  except  that  his  way  of  life  Avas  A^ery 
retired,  had  no  summons  to  .appear,  and  was  merely 
present  in  the  shades  of  Mr.  Inspector’s  mind. 

The  case  Avas  made  interesting  to  the  public,  by  Mr. 
Mortimer  Lightwood’s  eAudence  touching  the  circum- 
stances under  which  the  deceased,  Mr.  John  Harmon, 
' had  returned  to  England  ; exclusiA^e  priAmte  proprietor- 
ship in  AAdiich  circumstances  was  set  up  at  dinner-tables 
for  several  days,  by  Veneering,  TAvemlow,  Podsnap, 
and  all  the  Buffers  : avIio  all  related  them  irreconcilably 
Avith  one  another,  and  contradicted  themselves.  It  Avas 
also  made  interesting  by  the  testimony  of  Job  Potterson, 
the  ship’s  steward,  and  one  Mr.  Jacob  Kibble,  a fellow- 
passenger,  theJ  the  deceased.  Mr.  John  Harmon  did 


ANUTRKR  MAN. 


33 


bring  over,  in  a hand  valise  with  which  he  did  disem- 
bark, the  sum  realized  by  the  forced  sale  of  his  little 
landed  property,  and  that  the  sum  exceeded,  in  ready 
money,  seven  hundred  pounds.  It  was  further  made 
interesting,  by  the  remarkable  experiences  of  Jesse 
Hexham  in  having  rescued  from  the  Thames  so  many 
dead  bodies,  and  for  whose  behoof  a rapturous  admirer 
subscribing  himself  friend  to  Burial’’  (perhaps  an 
undertaker),  sent  eighteen  postage  stamps,  and  five 

Now  Sirs  ” to  the  editor  of  the  Times. 

. Upon  the  evidence  adduced  before  them,  the  Jury 
found.  That  the  body  of  Mr.  John  Harmon  had  been 
discovered  floating  in  the  Thames,  in  an  advanced  state 
of  decay,  and  much  injured ; and  that  the  said  Mr. 
John  Harmon  had  come  by  his  death  under  highly  sus- 
picious circumstances,  though  by  whose  act  or  in  what 
precise  manner  there  was  no  evidence  before  this  Jury 
to  show.  And  they  appended  to  their  v%rdict,  a recom- 
mendation to  the  Home  Office  (which  Mr.  Inspector  ap- 
peared to  think  highly  sensible),  to  offer  a reward  for 
the  solution  of  the  mystery.  Within  eight-and-forty 
hours,  a reward  of  One  Hundred  Pounds  was  pro- 
claimed, together  with  a free  pardon  to  any  person  or 
persons  not  the  actual  perpetrators,  and  so  forth  in  due 
form. 

This  Proclamation  rendered  Mr.  Inspector  addition- 
ally studious,  and  caused  him  to  stand  meditating  on 
river  stairs  and  causeways,  and  to  go  lurking  about  in 
boats,  putting  this  and  that  together.  But,  according 
to  the  success  with  which  you  put  this  and  that  together, 
you  get  a woman  and  a flsh  apart,  or  a Mermaid  in 
combination.  And  Mr.  Inspector  could  turn  out  nothing 
better  than  a Mermaid,  which  no  Judge  and  Jury  would 
believe  in. 

Thus,  like  the  tides  on  which  it  had  been  borne  to  the 
knowledge  of  men,  the  Harmon  Murder — as  it  came  to 
be  popularly  called— went  up  and  down,  and  ebbed  and 
flowed,  now  in  the  town,  now  in  the  country,  now 
among  palaces,  now  among  hovels,  now  among  lords 
and  ladies  and  gentlefolks,  now  among  labourers  and 
hammerers  and  ballast-heavers,  until  at  last,  after  a 
long  interval  of  slack  water,  it  got  out  to  sea  and  drifted 
away. 


YOL.  I, 


3 


34 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  R.  WILFER  FAMILY. 

Reginald  WILFER  is  a name  with  rather  a grand 
sound,  suggesting  on  first  acquaintance  brasses  in 
country  churches,  scrolls  in  stained-glass  windows,  and 
generally  the  De  Wilfers  who  came  over  with  the  Con- 
queror. For,  it  is  a remarkable  fact  in  genealogy  that 
no  De  Any  ones  ever  came  over  with  Anybody  else. 

But,  the  Reginald  Wilfer  family  were  of  such  com- 
mon-place extraction  and  pursuits  that  their  forefathers 
had  for  generations  modestly  subsisted  on  the  Docks, 
the  Excise  Office,  and  the  Custom  House,  and  the  ex- 
isting R.  Wilfer  was  a poor  clerk.  So  poor  a clerk, 
though  having  a limited  salary  and  an  unlimited  family, 
that  he  had  never  yet  attained  the  modest  object  of  his 
ambition:  which  was,  to  wear  a complete  new  suit  of 
clothes,  hat  and  boots  included,  at  one  time.  His  black 
hat  was  brown  before  he  could  afford  a coat,  his  panta- 
loons were  white  at  the  seams  and  knees  before  he 
could  buy  a pair  of  boots,  his  boots  had  worn  out  before 
he  could  treat  himself  to  new  pantaloons,  and,  by  the 
time  he  worked  round  to  the  hat  again,  that  shining 
modern  article  roofed-in  an  ancient  ruin  of  various 
periods. 

If  the  conventional  Cherub  could  ever  grow  up  and 
be  clothed,  he  might  be  photographed  as  a portrait  of 
Wilfer.  His  chubby,  smooth,  innocent  appearance  was 
a reason  for  his  being  always  treated  with  condescension 
when  he  was  not  put  down.  A stranger  entering  his 
own  poor  house  at  about  ten  o'clock  p.  m.  might  have 
been  surprised  to  find  him  sitting  up  to  supper.  So 
boyish  was  he  in  his  curves  and  proportions,  that  his 
old  schoolmaster  meeting  him  in  Cheapside,  might  have 
been  unable  to  withstand  the  temptation  of  caning  him 
on  the  spot.  In  short,  he  was  the  conventional  cherub, 
after  the  supposititious  shoot  just  mentioned, rather  grey, 
with  signs  of  care  on  his  expression,  and  in  decidedly 
insolvent  circumstances. 

He  was  shy,  and  unwilling  to  own  to  the  name  of 
Reginald,  as  being  too  aspiring  and  self-assertive 
a name.  In  his  signature  he  used  only  the  initial  R.  , 


THE  R.  WILFER  FAMILY, 


35 


and  imparted  what  it  really  stood  for,  to  none  but  chosen 
friends,  under  the  seal  of  confidence.  Out  of  this,  the 
facetious  habit  had  arisen  in  the  neighbourhood  sur- 
rounding Mincing  Lane  of  making  Christian  names  for 
him  of  adjectives  and  participles  beginning  with  R. 
Some  of  these  were  more  or  less  appropriate  : as  Rusty, 
Retiring,  Ruddy,  Round,  Ripe,  Ridiculous,  Ruminative ; 
others,  derived  their  point  from  their  want  of  appli- 
cation : as  Raging,  Rattling,  Roaring,  Raffish.  But,  his 
popular  name  was  Rumty,  which  in  a moment  of 
inspiration  had  been  bestowed  upon  him  by  a gentleman 
of  convivial  habits  connected  with  the  drug-market,  as 
the  beginning  of  a social  chorus,  his  leading  part  in  th  e 
execution  of  which  had  led  this  gentleman  to  the  Temple 
of  Fame,  and  of  which  the  whole  expressive  burden  ran  : 

“ Rumty,  Iddity,  row  dow  dow, 

Sing  toodlely,  teedlely,  bow  wow  wow.” 

Thus  he  was  constantly  addressed,  even  in  minor  notes 
on  business,  as  Dear  Rumty  ; ’’  in  answer  to  which,  he 
sedately  signed  himself,  Yours  truly,  R.  Wilfer.” 

He  was  clerk  in  the  drug-house  of  Chicksey,  Veneer- 
ing, and  Stobbles.  Chicksey  and  Stobbles,  his  former 
masters,  had  both  become  absorbed  in  Veneering,  once 
their  traveller  or  commission  agent:  who  had  signalized 
his  accession  to  supreme  power  by  bringing  into  the  busi- 
ness a quantity  of  plate  glass  window  and  French- 
polished  mahogany  partition,  and  a gleaming  and 
enormous  door-plate. 

R.  Wilfer  locked  up  his  desk  one  evening,  and,  put- 
ting his  bunch  of  keys  in  his  pocket  much  as  if  it  were 
his  pegtop,  made  for  home.  His  home  was  in  the 
Holloway  region  north  of  London,  and  then  divided 
from  it  by  fields  and  trees.  Between  Battle  Bridge  and 
that  part  of  the  Holloway  district  in  which  he  dwelt, 
was  a tract  of  suburban  Sahara,  where  tiles  and  bricks 
were  burnt,  bones  were  boiled,  carpets  were  beat, 
rubbish  was  shot,  dogs  were  fought,  and  dust  was  heaped 
by  contractors.  Skirting  the  border  of  this  desert,  by 
the  way  he  took,  when  the  light  of  its  kiln-fires  made 
lurid  smears  on  the  fog,  R.  Wilfer  sighed  and  shook  his 
head. 

Ah  me  said  he,  what  might  have  been  is  not 
what  is  ! ” 

With  which  commentary  on  human  life,  indicating 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


ilf) 

an  experience  of  it  not  exclusively  his  own,  he  made 
the  best  of  his  way  to  the  end  of  his  journey. 

Mrs.  Wilfer  was,  of  course,  a tall  woman  and  an  an- 
jgular.  Her  lord  being  cherubic,  she  was  necessarily 
majestic,  according  to  the  principle  which  matrimoni- 
ally unites  contrasts.  She  was  much  given  to  tying  up 
'her  head  in  a pocket-hankerchief,  knotted  under  the 
chin.  This  head-gear,  in  conjunction  with  a pair  of 
gloves  worn  within  doors,  she  seemed  to  consider  as  at 
once  a kind  of  armour  against  misfortune  (invariably 
assuming  it  when  in  low  spirits  or  difficulties),  and  as 
a species  of  full  dress.  It  was  therefore  with  some 
sinking  of  the  spirit  that  her  husband  beheld  her  thus 
heroically  attired,  putting  down  her  candle  in  the  little 
hall^  and  coming  down  the  doorsteps  through  the  little 
front  court  to  open  the  gate  for  him. 

Something  had  gone  wrong  with  the  house-door,  for 
R.  Wilfer  stopped  on  the  steps,  staring  at  it,  and  cried: 

^^Hal— loa?’’ 

^Wes,”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer,  ^^the  man  came  himself 
with  a pair  of  pincers,  and  took  it  off,  and  took  it  away. 
He  said  that  as  he  had  no  expectation  of  ever  being 
paid  for  it  and  as  he  had  an  order  for  another  Ladies’ 
School  door-plate,  it  was  better  (burnished  up)  for  the 
interest  of  all  parties.” 

Perhaps  it  was,  my  dear;  what  do  you  think?” 

^Wou  are  master  here,  R.  W.”  returned  his  wife. 
^Ht  is  as  you  think;  not  as  I do.  Perhaps  it  might  have 
been  better  if  the  man  had  taken  the  door  too?” 

My  dear,  we  couldn’t  have  done  without  the  door.” 

Couldn’t  we?” 

Why,  my  dear!  Could  we?” 

^Ht  is  as  you  think,  R.  W.,  not  as  I do.”  With  those 
submissive  words,  the  dutiful  wufe  preceded  him  down 
a few  stairs  to  a.  little  basement  front  room,  half  kitchen, 
half  parlour,  where  a girl  of  about  nineteen,  with  an 
exceedingly  pretty  figure  and  face,  but  with,  an  impa- 
tient and  petulant  expression  both  in  her  face  and  in  her 
shoulders  (which  in  her  sex  and  at  her  age  are  very 
expressive  of  discontent),  sat  playing  draughts  with  a 
younger  girl,  who  was  the  youngest  of  the  House  of 
Wilfer.  Not  to  encumber  this  page  by  telling  off  the 
Wilfers  in  detail  and  casting  them  up  in  the  gross,  it  is 
enough  for  the  present  that  the  rest  were  what  is  called 


THE  R.  WILFER  FAMILY. 


37 


out  in  the  world/’  in  various  ways,  and  that  they  were 
many.  So  many,  that  when  one  of  his  dutiful  children 
called  in  to  see  him,  R.  Wilfer  generally  seemed  to  say 
to  himself,  after  a little  mental  arithmetic,  Oh!  here’s 
another  of  ’em!”  before  adding  aloud,  How  de  do, 
John,”  or  Susan,  as  the  case  might  be. 

^^Well  Piggy wiggies,”  said  R.  W.,  ^^how  de  do  to- 
night ? What  I was  thinking  of,  my  dear,”  to  Mrs. 
Wilfer  already  seated  in  a corner  with  folded  gloves, 
was  that  as  we  have  let  our  first  floor  so  well,  and  as 
we  have  now  no  place  in  which  you  could  teach  pupils, 
even  if  pupils ” 

^^The  milkman  said  he  knew  of  two  young  ladies  of 
the  highest  respectability  who  were  in  search  of  a suit- 
able establishment,  and  he  took  a card,”  interposed  Mrs. 
Wilfer,  with  severe  monotony,  as  if  she  were  reading 
an  Act  of  Parliament  aloud.  Tell  your  father  whether 
it  was  last  Monday,  Bella.” 

But  we  never  heard  any  more  of  it,  ma,”  said  Bella, 
the  elder  girl. 

In  addition  to  which,  my  dear,”  her  husband  urged, 
if  you  have  no  place  to  put  two  young,  persons 
into ” 

Pardon  me,”  Mrs.  Wilfer  again  interposed  ; ^‘^they 
were  not  young  persons.  Two  young  ladies  of  the 
highest  respectability.  Tell  your  father,  Bella,  whether 
the  milkman  said  so.” 

My  dear,  it  is  the  same  thing.” 

^^No  it  is  not,”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer,  with  the  same  im- 
pressive monotony.  Pardon  me  ! ” 

mean,  my  dear,  it  is  the  same  thing  as  to  space. 
As  to  space.  If  you  have  no  space  in  which  to  put  two 
youthful  fellow-creatures,  however  eminently  respect- 
able, which  I do  not  doubt,  where  are  those  youthful 
fellow-creatures  to  be  accommodated  ? I carry  it  no 
further  than  that.  And  solely  looking  at  it,”  said  her 
husband,  making  the  stipulation  at  once  in  a concilia- 
tory, complimentary,  and  argumentative  tone — ^^as  I 
am  sure  you  will  agree,  my  love — from  a fellow-creature 
point  of  view,  my  dear.” 

have  nothing  more  to  say,”  returned  Mrs.  Wilfer, 
with  a meek  renunciatory  action  of  her  gloves.  ^Ht  is 
as  you  think,  R.  W, ; not  as  I do.” 

Here  the  huffing  of  Miss  Bella  and  the  loss  of  three 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


3.9 


of  her  men  at  a swoop,  aggravated  by  the  coronation  of 
an  opponent,  led  to  that  young  lady’s  jerking  the 
draught-board  and  pieces  off  the  table  : which  her  sister 
went  down  on  her  knees  to  pick  up. 

‘'Poor  Bella  !”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer. 

“And  poor  Lavinia,  perhaps,  my  dear?”  suggested 

R.  W. 

"Pardon  me,”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer,  "no  !” 

It  ^^as  one  of  the  worthy  woman’s  specialities  that 
she  had  an  amazing  power  of  gratifying  her  splenetic 
or  worldly-minded  humours  by  extolling  her  own 
family  : which  she  thus  proceeded,  in  the  present  case, 
to  do. 

"No,  R.  W.  Lavinia  has  not  known  the  trial  that 
Bella  has  known.  The  trial  that  your  daughter  Bella 
has  undergone,  is,  perhaps,  without  a parallel,  and  has 
been  borne,  I will  say,  nobly.  When  you  see  your 
daughter  Bella  in  her  black  dress,  which  she  alone  of  all 
the  family  wears,  and  when  you  remember  the  circum- 
stances which  have  led  to  her  wearing  it,  and  when  you 
know  how  those  circumstances  have  been  sustained, 
then,  R.  W.,  lay  your  head  upon  your  pillow  and  say, 
' poor  Lavinia  I ’ ” 

Here,  Miss  Lavinia,  from  her  kneeling  situation  under 
the  table,  put  in  that  she  didn’t  want  to  be  "poored  by 
pa,”  or  anybody  else. 

" I am  sure  you  do  not,  my  dear,”  returned  her  mother, 
"for  you  have  a fine  brave  spirit.  And  your  sister  Ce- 
cilia has  a fine  brave  spirit  of  another  kind,  a spirit  of 
pure  devotion,  a beau-ti-ful  spirit ! The  self-sacrifice  of 
Cecilia  reveals  a pure  and  womanly  character,  very 
seldom  equalled,  never  surpassed.  I have  now  in  my 
pocket  a letter  from  your  sister  Cecilia,  received  this 
morning — received  three  months  after  her  marriage, 
poor  child  ! — in  which  she  tells  me  that  her  husband 
must  unexpectedly  shelter  under  their  roof  his  reduced 
aunt.  ' But  I will  be  true  to  him,  mamma,’  she  touch- 
ingly writes,  ' I will  not  leave  him,  I must  not  forget 
that  he  is  my  husband.  Let  his  aunt  come  !’  If  this  is 

not  pathetic,  if  this  is  not  woman’s  devotion !”  The 

good  lady  waved  her  gloves  in  a sense  of  the  impossi- 
bility of  saying  more,  and  tied  the  pocket-handkerchief 
over  her  head  in  a tighter  knot  under  her  chin. 

Bella,  who  was  now  seated  on  the  rug  to  warm  her- 


THE  K WILFER  FAMILY.  39 

self,  with  her  brown  eyes  on  the  fire  and  a handful  of 
her  brown  curls  in  her  mouth,  laug^jed  at  this,  and  then 
pouted  and  half  cried. 

am  sure,’’  said  she,  though  you  have  no  feeling 
for  me,  pa,  I am  one  of  the  most  unfortunate  girls  that 
ever  lived.  You  know  how  poor  we  are”  (it  is  probable 
he  did,  having  some  reason  to  know  it !),  ^'and  what  a 
glimpse  of  wealth  I had,  and  how  it  melted  away,  and 
how  I am  here  in  this  ridiculous  mourning — which  I 
hate  ! — a kind  of  a widow  who  never  was  married.  And 
yet  you  don’t  feel  for  me. — Yes  you  do,  yes  you  do.” 

This  abrupt  change  was  occasioned  by  her  father’s 
face.  She  stopped  to  pull  him  down  from  his  chair  in 
an  attitude  highly  favourable  to  strangulation,  and  to 
give  him  a kiss  and  a pat  or  two  on  the  cheek. 

But  you  ought  to  feel  for  me,  you  know,  pa.” 

My  dear,  I do.” 

Yes,  and  I say  you  ought  to.  If  they  had  only  left 
me  alone  and  told  me  nothing  about  it,  it  would  have 
mattered  nuch  less.  But  that  nasty  Mr.  Lightfoot  feels 
it  his  duty,  as  he  says,  to  write  and  tell  me  what  is  in 
reserve  for  me,  and  then  I am  obliged  to  get  rid  of 
George  Sampson.” 

Here,  Lavinia,  rising  to  the  surface  with  the  last 
draughtman  rescued,  interposed,  You  never  cared  for 
George  Sampson,  Bella.” 

'^And  did  I say  I did,  miss?”  Then  pouting  again, 
with  the  curls  in  her  mouth;  ^‘George  Sampson  was 
very  fond  of  me,  and  admired  me  very  much,  and  put 
up  with  everything  I did  to  him.” 

You  were  rude  enough  to  him,”  Lavinia  again  in- 
terposed. 

And  did  I say  I wasn’t,  miss.  I am  not  setting  up 
to  be  sentimental  about  George  Sampson.  I only  say 
George  Sampson  was  better  than  nothing.” 

You  didn’t  show  him  that  you  thought  even  that,” 
Lavinia  again  interposed. 

You  are  a chit  and  a little  idiot,”  returned  Bella,  or 
you  wouldn’t  make  such  a dolly  speech.  What  did  you 
expect  me  to  do?  Wait  till  you  are  a woman,  and  don’t 
talk:  about  what  you  don’t  understand.  You  only  show 
your  ignorance  !”  Then,  whimpering  again,  and  at 
intervals  biting  the  curls,  and  stopping  to  look  how  much 
w-xs  bitter,  off,  ''It’s  a shame  I There  never  v/as  such  a 


40 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


hard  case  ! I shouldn’t  care  so  much  if  it  wasn’t  so 
ridiculous.  It  was  Ridiculous  enough  to  have  a stranger 
coming  over  to  marry  me,  whether  he  liked  it  or  not. 
It  was  ridiculous  enough  to  know  what  an  embarrassing 
meeting  it  would  be,  and  how  we  never  could  pretend 
to  have  an  inclination  of  our  own,  either  of  us.  It  was 
ridiculous  enough  to  know  I shouldn’t  like  him — how 
could  I like  him,  left  to  him  in  a will,  like  a dozen  of 
spoons,  with  everything  cut  and  dried  beforehand,  like 
orange  chips.  Talk  of  orange  flowers  indeed  ! I declare 
again  it’s  a shame  ! Those  ridiculous  points  would  have 
been  smoothed  away  by  the  money,  for  I love  money, 
and  want  money — want  it  dreadfully.  I hate  to  be  poor, 
and  we  are  degradingly  poor,  offensively  poor,  miser- 
ably poor,  beastly  poor.  But  here  I am,  left  with  all 
the  ridiculous  parts  of  the  situation  remaining,  and, 
added  to  them  all,  this  ridiculous  dress  ! And  if  the 
truth  was  known,  when  the  Harmon  murder  was  all 
over  the  town,  and  people  were  speculating  on  its  being 
suicide,  I dare  say  those  impudent  wretches  at  the  clubs 
and  places  made  jokes  about  the  miserable  creature’s 
having  preferred  a watery  grave  to  me.  It’s  likely 
enough  they  took  such  liberties  : I shouldn’t  wonder  ! 
I declare  it’s  a very  hard  case  indeed,  and  I am  a most 
unfortunate  girl.  The  idea  of  being  a kind  of  a widow, 
and  never  having  been  married  ! And  the  idea  of  being 
as  poor  as  ever  after  all,  and  going  into  black,  besides, 
for  a man  I never  saw,  and  should  have  hated — as  far 
as  he  was  concerned — if  I had  seen  ! ” 

The  young  lady’s  lamentations  were  checked  at  this 
point  by  a knuckle,  knocking  at  the  half-open  door  of 
the  room.  The  knuckle  had  knocked  two  or  three  times 
already,  but  had  not  been  heard. 

^AVho  is  it?”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer,  in  her  Act-of -Parlia- 
ment manner.  Enter!  ” 

A gentleman  coming  in.  Miss  Bella,  with  a short  and 
sharp  exclamation,  scrambled  off  the  hearth-rug  and 
massed  the  bitten  curls  together  in  their  right  place  on 
her  neck. 

The  servant  girl  had  her  key  in  the  door  as  I came 
up,  and  directed  me  to  this  room,  telling  me  I was  ex- 
pected. I am  afraid  I should  have  asked  her  to  announce 
me.” 

Pardon  me/’  returned  Mrs,  Wilfer,  ‘^Not  at  all, 


THE  R.  WILFER  FAMILt*. 


41 


Two  of  my  daughters,  R,  W.,  this  is  the  gentleman 
who  has  taken  your  first  floor.  He  was  so  good  as  to 
make  an  appointment  for  to-night,  when  you  would  be 
at  home.’’ 

A dark  gentleman.  Thirty  at  the  utmost.  An  expres- 
sive, one  might  say  handsome,  face.  A very  bad  man- 
ner. In  the  last  degree  constrained,  reserved,  diffident, 
troubled.  His  eyes  were  on  Miss  Bella  for  an  instant, 
and  then  looked  at  the  ground  as  he  addressed  the  mas- 
ter of  the  house. 

'^Seeing  that  I am  quite  satisfied,  Mr.  Wilfer,  with 
the  rooms,  and  with  their  situation,  and  with  their 
price,  I suppose  a memorandum  between  us  of  two  or 
three  lines,  and  a payment  down,  will  bind  the  bargain? 
I wish  to  send  in  furniture  without  delay.” 

Two  or  three  times  during  this  short  address,  the 
cherub  addressed  had  made  chubby  motions  towards  a 
chair.  The  gentleman  now  took  it,  laying  a hesitating 
hand  on  a corner  of  the  table,  and  with  another  hesi- 
tating hand  lifting  the  crown  of  his  hat  to  his  lips,  and 
drawing  it  before  his  mouth. 

^^The  gentleman,  R.  W.,”said  Mrs. Wilfer,  ‘^'proposes 
to  take  your  apartments  by  the  quarter.  A quarter’s 
notice  on  either  side.” 

Shall  I mention,  sir,”  insinuated  the  landlord,  ex- 
pecting it  to  be  received  as  a matter  of  coarse,  '^the 
form  of  a reference?” 

I think,”  returned  the  gentleman,  after  a pause, 
^^that  a reference  is  not  necessary;  neither,  to  say  the 
truth,  is  it  convenient,  for  I am  a stranger  in  London. 
I require  no  reference  from  you,  and  perhaps,  therefore, 
you  will  require  none  from  me.  That  will  be  fair  on 
both  sides.  Indeed,  I show  the  greater  confidence  of 
the  two,  for  I wdll  pay  in  advance  whatever  you  please, 
and  I am  going  to  trust  my  furniture  here.  Whereas, 
if  you  were  in  embarrassed  circumstances  — this  is 
merely  supposititious ” 

Conscience  causing  R.  Wilfer  to  colour,  Mrs.  Wilfer, 
from  a corner  (she  always  got  into  stately  corners) 
came  to  the  rescue  with  a deep-toned  Per-fectly.” 

— Why  then  I — might  lose  it.” 

""Well!”  observed  R.  Wilfer,  cheerfully,  ""money and 
goods  are  certainly  the  best  of  references.” 

""Do  you  think  they  are  the  best,  pa?”  asked  Miss 


42  OUR  MUTUAL  RRIEND. 

Bella,  in  a low  voice,  and  without  looking  over  the 
shoulder  as  she  warmed  her  foot  on  the  fender. 

Among  the  best,  my  dear/’ 

I should  have  thought,  myself,  it  was  so  easy  to  add 
the  usual  kind  of  one,”  said  Bella,  with  a toss  of  her 
curls. 

The  gentleman  listened  to  her  with  a face  of  marked 
attention,  though  he  neither  looked  up  nor  changed  his 
attitude.  He  sat,  still  and  silent  until  his  future  land- 
lord accepted  his  proposals,  and  brought  writing  mate- 
rials to  complete  the  business.  He  sat,  still  and  silent, 
while  the  landlord  wrote. 

When  the  agreement  was  ready  in  duplicate  (the 
landlord  having  worked  at  it  like  some  cherubic  scribe, 
in  what  is  conventionally  called  a doubtful,  which 
means  a not  at  all  doubtful.  Old  Master),  it  was  signed 
by  the  contracting  parties,  Bella  looking  on  as  scornful 
witness.  The  contracting  parties  were  R.  Wilfer,  and 
John  Rokesmith,  Esquire. 

When  it  came  to  Bella’s  turn  to  sign  her  name,  Mr. 
Rokesmith,  who  was  standing,  as  he  had  sat,  with  a 
hesitating  hand  upon  the  table,  looked  at  her  stealthily, 
but  narrowly.  He  looked  at  the  pretty  figure  bending 
down  over  the  paper  and  saying,  Where  am  I to  go, 
pa?  Here,  in  this  corner?”  He  looked  at  the  beautiful 
brown  hair,  shading  the  coquettish  face;  he  looked  at 
the  free  dash  of  the  signature,  which  was  a bold  one  for 
a woman’s;  and  then  they  looked  at  one  another. 

^^Much  obliged  to  you.  Miss  Wilfer.” 

Obliged  ? ” 

have  given  you  so  much  trouble.” 

Signing  my  name  ? Yes.  certainly.  But  I am  your 
landlord’s  daughter,  sir.” 

As  there  was  nothing  more  to  do  but  pay  eight  sover- 
eigns in  earnest  of  the  bargain,  pocket  the  agreement, 
appoint  a time  for  the  arrival  of  his  furniture  and  him- 
self, and  go,  Mr.  Rokesmith  did  that  as  awkwardly  as 
it  might  be  done,  and  was  escorted  by  his  landlord  to 
the  outer  air.  When  R.  Wilfer  returned,  candlestick 
in  hand,  to  the  bosom  of  his  family,  he  found  the  bosom 
agitated. 

‘‘Pa,”  said  Bella,  “we  have  got  a Murderer  for  a ten- 
ant.” 

“Pa,”  said  Lavinia,  “ we  have  got  a Robber.” 


THE  R.  WILFER  t’AMILY. 


13 


see  him  unable  for  his  life  to  look  anybody  in 
the  face  ! ’’  said  Bella.  There  never  was  such  an  ex- 
hibition.” 

^^My  dears,”  said  their  father,  he  is  a diffident  gen- 
tleman, and  I should  say  particularly  so  in  the  society 
of  girls  of  your  age.” 

Nonsense,  our  age!”  cried  Bella,  impatiently. 
What’s  that  got  to  do  with  him  ? ” 

Besides,  we  are  not  of  the  same  age  : — which  age  ? ” 
demanded  Lavinia. 

Never  you  mind,  Lavvy,”  retorted  Bella. ; you  wait 
till  you  are  of  an  age  to  ask  such  questions.  Pa,  mark 
my  words  ! Between  Mr.  Rokesmith  and  me,  there  is  a 
natural  antipathy  and  a deep  distrust ; and  something 
will  come  of  it ! ” 

^^My  dear,  and  girls,”  said  the  cherub-patriarch,  ^‘  be- 
tween Mr.  Rokesmith  and  me,  there  is  a matter  of  eight 
sovereigns,  and  something  for  supper  shall  come  of  it, 
if  you’ll  agree  upon  the  article.” 

This  was  a neat  and  happy  turn  to  give  the  subject, 
treats  being  rare  in  the  Wilfer  household,  where  a mo- 
notonous appearance  of  Dutch-cheese  at  ten  o’clock  in 
the  evening  had  been  rather  frequently  commented  on 
by  the  dimpled  shoulders  of  Miss  Bella.  Indeed,  the 
modest  Dutchman  himself  seemed  conscious  of  his  want 
of  variety,  and  generally  came  before  the  family  in  a 
state  of  apologetic  perspiration.  After  some  discussion 
on  the  relative  merits  of  veal-cutlet,  sweet-bread,  and 
lobster,  a decision  was  pronounced  in  favour  of  veal- 
cutlet.  Mrs.  Wilfer  then  solemnly  divested  herself  of 
her  handkerchief  and  gloves,  as  a preliminary  sacrifice 
to  preparing  the  frying-pan,  and  R.  W.  himself  went 
out  to  purchase  the  viand.  He  soon  returned,  bearing 
the  same  in  -a  fresh  cabbage-leaf,  where  it  coyly  em- 
braced a rasher  of  ham.  Melodious  sounds  were  not 
long  in  rising  from  the  frying-pan  on  the  fire,  or  in 
seeming,  as  the  firelight  danced  in  the  mellow  halls  of 
a couple  of  full  bottles  on  the  table,  to  play  appropriate 
dance-music. 

The  cloth  was  laid  by  Lavvy.  Bella,  as  the  acknowl- 
edged ornament  of  the  family,  employed  both  her 
hands  in  giving  her  hair  an  additional  wave  while  sitting 
in  the  easiest  chair,  and  occasionally  threv/  in  a direc- 
tion touching  the  supper:  as^  'Wery  brown,  nia;”or, 


44 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


to  her  sister,  “ Put  the  saltcellar  straight,  miss,  and 
don’t  be  a dowdy  little  puss.” 

Meantime  her  father,  chinking  Mr.  Rokesmith’s  gold 
as  he  sat  expectant  between  his  knife  and  fork,  re- 
marked that  six  of  those  soverigns  came  just  in  time 
for  their  landlord,  and  stood  them  in  a little  pile  on  the 
white  tablecloth  to  look  at. 

“ I hate  our  landlord  ! ” said  Bella. 

But,  observing  a fall  in  her  fathers  face,  she  went 
and  sat  down  by  him  at  the  table,  and  began  touching 
up  his  hair  with  the  handle  of  a fork.  It  was  one  of 
the  girl’s  spoilt  ways  to  be  always  arranging  the  fam- 
ily’s hair — perhaps  because  her  own  was  so  pretty,  and 
occupied  so  much  of  her  attention. 

“You  deserve  to  have  a house  of  your  own;  don’t 
you,  poor  pa  ? ” 

“ I don’t  deserve  it  better  than  another,  my  dear.” 

“At  any  rate  I,  for  one,  want  it  more  than  another,  ” 
said  Bella,  holding  him  by  the  chin,  as  she  stuck  his 
flaxen  hair  on  end,  “and  I grudge  this  money  going  to 
the  Monster  that  swallows  up  so  much,  v/hen  we  all 
want — Everything.  And  if  you  say  (as  you  want  to 
say ; I know  you  want  to  say  so,  pa)  ‘ that’s  neither 
reasonable  nor  honest  Bella,  ’ then  I answer,  ^ Maybe 
not,  pa — very  likely — but  it’s  one  of  the  consequences 
of  being  poor,  and  of  thoroughly  hating  and  detesting 
to  be  poor,  and  that’s  my  case.’  Now,  you  look  lovely, 
pa ; why  don’t  you  always  wear  your  hair  like  that  ? 
And  here’s  the  cutlet!  If  it  ‘ ' t 


can’t  eat  it,  and  must  have 


expressly.” 

However,  as  it  was  brown,  even  to  Bella’s  taste,  the 
young  lady  graciously  partook  of  it  without  reconsign- 
ment to  the  frying-pan,  and  also,  in  due  course,  of  the 
contents  of  the  two  bottles  ; whereof  one  held  Scotch  ale 
and  the  other  rum.  The  latter  perfume,  with  the 
fostering  aid  of  boiling  water  and  lemon-peel,  diffused 
itself  throughout  the  room,  and  became  so  highly 
concentrated  around  the  warm  fireside,  that  the  wind 
passing  over  the  house  roof  must  have  rushed  off 
charged  with  a delicious  whiff  of  it,  after  buzzing  like 
a great  bee  at  that  particular  chimney-pot. 

“Pa,”  said  Bella,  sipping  the  fragrant  mixture  and 
warming  her  favourite  ankle  ; “when  old  Mr.  Harmon 


THE  R.  WILFER  FAMILY. 


45 


made  such  a fool  of  me  (not  to  mention  himself,  as  he 
is  dead),  what  do  you  suppose  he  did  it  for 

Impossible  to  say,  my  dear.  As  I have  told  you 
times  out  of  number  since  his  will  was  brought  to  light, 
I doubt  if  I ever  exchanged  a hundred  words  with  the 
old  gentleman.  If  it  was  his  whim  to  surprise  us,  his 
whim  succeeded.  For  he  certainly  did  it.’’ 

And  I was  stamping  my  foot  and  screaming,  when 
he  first  took  notice  of  me  ; was  I ? ” said  Bella,  contemp- 
lating the  ankle  before  mentioned. 

You  were  stamping  your  little  foot,  my  dear,  and 
screaming  with  your  little  voice,  and  laying  into  me 
with  your  little  bonnet,  which  you  had  snatched  off  for 
the  purpose,”  returned  her  father,  as  the  remembrance 
gave  a relish  to  the  rum;  ^'you  were  doing  this  one 
Sunday  morning  when  I took  you  out,  because  I didn’t 
go  the  exact  way  you  wanted,  when  the  old  gentleman, 
sitting  on  a seat  near,  said,  ^That’s  a nice  girl ; that’s 
a very  nice  girl ; a promising  girl ! ’ And  so  you  were, 
my  dear.” 

And  then  he  asked  my  name,  did  he,  pa  ?” 

‘^^Then  he  asked  your  name,  my  dear,  and  mine; 
and  on  other  Sunday  mornings,  when  we  walked 
his  way,  we  saw  him  again,  and — and  really  that’s 
all.” 

As  that  was  all  the  rum  and  water  too,  or,  in  other 
words,  as  R.  W.  delicately  signified  that  his  glass  was 
empty,  by  throwing  back  his  head  and  standing  the 
glass  upside  down  on  his  nose  and  upper  lip,  it  might 
have  been  charitable  in  Mrs.  Wilfer  to  suggv^st  replenish- 
ment. But  that  heroine  briefly  suggesting  Bedtime” 
instead,  the  bottles  were  put  away,  and  the  family 
retired ; she  cherubically  escorted,  like  some  severe 
saint  in  a painting,  or  merely  human  matron  allegori- 
cally treated. 

^^And  by  this  time  to-morrow,”  said  Lavinia  when 
the  two  girls  were  alone  in  their  room,  we  shall  have 
Mr.  Rokesmith  here,  and  shall  be  expecting  to  have 
our  throats  cut.” 

^^You  needn’t  stand  between  me  and  the  candle  for 
all  lhat,”  retorted  Bella.  This  is  another  of  the  con- 
sequences of  being  poor!  The  idea  of  a girl  with  a 
really  nne  head  of  hair  having  to  do  it  by  one  flat  can 
die  and  a few  inches  of  looking-glass!” 


46 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


“You  caught  George  Sampson  with  it,  Bella,  bad  as 
your  means  of  dressing  it  are.” 

“You  low  little  thing.  Caught  George  Sampson  with 
it!  Don’t  talk  about  catching  people,  miss,  till  your 
own  time  for  catching — as  you  call  it — comes.” 

“ Perhaps  it  has  come,”  muttered  Lavvy,  with  a toss 
of  her  head. 

“What  did  you  say?”  asked  Bella,  very  sharply. 
“ What  did  you  say,  miss?” 

Lavvy  declining  equally  to  repeat  or  to  explain, 
Bella  gradually  lapsed  over  her  hair  - dressing  into 
a soliloquy  on  the  miseries  of  being  poor,  as  exemp- 
lified in  having  nothing  to  put  on,  nothing  to  go  out 
in,  nothing  to  dress  by,  only  a nasty  box  to  dress  at, 
instead  of  a commodious  dressing-table,  and  being 
obliged  to  take  in  suspicious  lodgers.  On  the  last  griev- 
ance, as  her  climax,  she  laid  great  stress — and  might 
have  laid  greater,  had  she  known  that  if  Mr.  Julius 
Handford  had  a twin  brother  upon  earth,  Mr.  John 
Rokesmith  was  the  man. 


CHAPTER  V. 
boffin’s  bower. 

OVER  against  a London  house,  a corner  house  not 
far  from  Cavendish  Square,  a man  with  a wooden 
leg  had  sat  for  some  years,  with  his  remaining  foot  in  a 
basket  in  cold  weather,  picking  up  a living  on  this 
wise: — Every  morning  at  eight  o’clock,  he  stumped  to 
the  corner,  carrying  a chair,  a clothes-horse,  a pair  of 
trestles,  a board,  a basket,  and  an  umbrella,  all  strapped 
together.  Separating  these,  the  board  and  trestles 
became  a counter,  the  basket  supplied  the  few  small 
lots  of  fruit  and  sweets  that  he  offered  for  sale  upon  it 
and  became  a foot- warmer,  the  unfolded  clothes-horse 
displayed  a choice  collection  of  half-penny  ballads  and 
became  a screen,  and  the  stool  planted  within  it  became 
his  post  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  All  weathers  saw  the 
man  at  the  post.  This  is  to  he  accepted  in  a double 
sense,  for  he  contrived  a back  to  his  wooden  stool,  b}’ 
placing  it  against  the  lamp-post.  When  the’  weather 


BOFMN^B  BO  W EB* 


47 


Was  Wet,  he  put  up  his  umbrella  over  his  stock  in  trade, 
not  over  himself;  when  the  weather  was  dry,  he  furled 
that  faded  article,  tied  it  round  with  a piece  of  yarn, 
and  laid  it  crosswise  under  the  trestles:  where  it  looked 
like  an  unwholesomely-forced  lettuce  that  had  lost  in 
colour  and  crispness  what  it  had  gained  in  size. 

He  had  established  his  right  to  the  corner,  by  imper- 
ceptible prescription.  He  had  never  varied  his  ground 
an  inch,  but  had  in  the  beginning  diffidently  taken  the 
corner  upon  which  the  side  of  the  house  gave.  A howl- 
ing corner  in  the  winter  time,  a dusty  corner  in  the 
summer  time,  an  undesirable  corner  at  the  best  of  times. 
Shelterless  fragments  of  straw  and  paper  got  up  revolv- 
ing storms  there,  when  the  main  street  was  at  peace  ; 
and  the  water-cart,  as  if  it  were  drunk  or  short-sighted, 
came  blundering  and  jolting  round  it,  making  it  muddy 
when  all  else  was  clean. 

On  the  front  of  his  sale-board  hung  a little  placard, 
like  a kettle-holder,  bearing  the  inscription  in  his  own 
small  text : 


Errands  gone 
On  With  fi 
Delity  By 

Ladies  and  Gentlemen 
I remain 

Your  humhle  Serv*: 
Silas  Wegg. 


He  had  not  only  settled  it  with  himself  in  course  of 
time,  that  he  was  errand-goer  by  appointment  to  the 
house  at  the  corner  (though  he  received  such  commis- 
sions not  half  a dozen  times  in  a year,  and  then  only  as 
some  servant’s  deputy),  but  also  that  he  was  one  of  the 
house’s  retainers  and  owed  vassalage  to  it  and  was 
bound  to  leal  and  loyal  interest  in  it.  For  this  reason, 
he  always  spoke  of  it  as  “ Our  House,”  and,  though  his 
knowledge  of  its  affairs  was  mostly  speculative  and  all 
wrong,  claimed  to  be  in  its  confidence.  On  similar 
grounds  he  never  beheld  an  inmate  at  any  one  of  its 
windows  but  he  touched  his  hat.  Yet,  he  knew  so  little 
about  the  inmates  that  he  gave  them  names  of  his  own 


48 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND* 


invention  i as  Miss  Elizabeth/’  Master  George/^ 
''Aunt  Jane/’  ''Uncle  Parker ’’—having  no  authority 
whatever  for  any  such  designations^,  but  particularly 
the  last— to  which,  as  a natural  consequence,  he  stuck 
with  great  obstinacy. 

Over  the  house  itself  he  exercised  the  same  imaginary 
power  as  over  its  inhabitants  and  their  affairs.  He  had 
never  been  in  it,  the  length  of  a piece  of  fat  black  water- 
pipe  which  trailed  itself  over  the  area-door  into  a damp 
stone  passage,  and  had  rather  the  air  of  a leech  on  the 
house  that  had  "taken”  wonderfully;  but  this  was  no 
impediment  to  his  arranging  it  according  to  a plan  of 
his  own.  It  was  a great  dingy  house  with  a quantity  of 
dim  side  window  and  blank  back  premises,  and  it  cost 
his  mind  a world  of  trouble  so  to  lay  it  out  as  to  account 
for  everything  in  its  external  appearance.  But,  this 
once  done,  was  quite  satisfactory^  and  he  rested  per- 
suaded that  he  knew  his  way  about  the  house  blindfold: 
from  the  barred  garrets  in  the  high  roof,  to  the  two 
iron  extinguishers  before  the  main  door — which  seemed 
to  request  all  lively  visitors  to  have  the  kindness  to  put 
themselves  out  before  entering. 

Assuredly,  this  stall  of  Silas  Wegg’s  was  the  hardest 
little  stall  of  all  the  sterile  little  stalls  in  London.  It 
gave  you  the  face-ache  to  look  at  his  apples,  the  stomach- 
ache to  look  at  his  oranges,  the  tooth-ache  to  look  at  his 
nuts.  Of  the  latter  commodity  he  had  always  a grim 
little  heap,  on  which  lay  a little  wooden  measure  which 
had  no  discernible  inside,  and  was  considered  to  repre- 
sent the  penn’orth  appointed  by  Magna  Charta.  AVhether 
from  too  much  east  wind  or  no — it  was  an  easterly 
corner — the  stall,  the  stock,  and  the  keeper,  were  all 
as  dry  as  the  desert.  Wegg  was  a knotty  man,  and  a 
close-grained,  with  a.  face  carved  out  of  very  hard 
material,,  that  had  just  as  much  play  of  expression  as  a 
watchman’s  rattle.  When  he  laughed,  certain  jerks 
occurred  in  it,  and  the  rattle  sprung.  Sooth  to  say,  he 
was  so  wooden  a man  that  he  seemed  to  have  taken  his 
wooden  leg  naturally,  and  rather  suggested  to  the  fanci- 
ful observer,  that  he  might  be  expected — if  his  develop- 
ment received  no  untimely  check — to  be  completely  set 
up  with  a pair  of  wooden  legs  in  about  six  months. 

Mr.  Wegg  was  an  observant  person,  or,  as  he  himself 
said,  "took  a powerful  sight  of  notice.”  He  saluted 


BOFFIN'S  BOWER. 


40 


all  his  'regular  passers-hy  e^^ery  day,  as  he  sat  on  his 
stool  hackled  up  by  the  lamp-post ; and  on  the  adapta- 
ble character  or  these  salutes  he  greatly  plumed  himself. 
Thus,  to  the  rector,  he  addressed  a bow,  compounded 
of  lay  deference,  and  a slight  touch  of  the  shady  pre- 
liminary meditation  at  church ; to  the  doctor,  a 
confidential  bow,  as  to  a gentleman  whose  aquaintance 
with  his  inside  he  begged  respectfully  to  acknowledge  ; 
before  the  Quality  he  delighted  to  abase  himself  ; and 
for  Uncle  Parker,  who  was  in  the  army  (at  least  so  he 
had  settled  it),  he  put  his  open  hand  to  the  side  of  his 
hat,  in  a military  manner  which  that  angry-eyed, 
buttoned-up,  inflammatory-faced  old  gentleman  ap- 
peared but  imperfectly  to  appreciate. 

The  only  article  in  which  Silas  dealt,  that  was  not 
hard,  was  gingerbread.  On  a certain  day,  some  wretch- 
ed infant  having  purchased  the  damp  ginger-bread- 
horse  (fearfully  out  of  condition),  and  the  adhesive 
bird-cage,  which  had  been  exposed  for  the  day’s  sale, 
he  had  taken  a tin  box  from  under  his  stool  to  produce 
a relay  of  those  dreadful  specimens,  and  was  going  to 
look  in  at  the  lid,  when  he  said  to  himself,  pausing ; 

Oh!  Here  you  are  again!  ” 

The  words  referred  to  a broad,  round-shouldered, 
one-sided  old  fellow  in  mourning,  coming  comically 
ambling  towards  the  corner,  dressed  in  a pea  over-coat, 
and  carrying  a large  stick.  He  wore  thick  shoes,  and 
thick  leather  gaiters,  and  thick  gloves  like  a hedger’s. 
Both  as  to  his  dress  and  to  himself,  he  was  of  an  over- 
lapping rhinoceros  build,  with  folds  in  his  cheeks,  and 
his  forehead,  and  his  eyelids,  and  his  lips,  and  his  ears  ; 
but  with  bright,  eager,  childishly-inquiring,  grey  eyes, 
under  his  ragged  eyebrows  and  broad-brimmed  hat.  A 
very  odd-looking  old  fellow  altogether. 

Here  you  are  again,”  repeated  Mr.  Wegg,  musing. 

And  what  are  you  now?  Are  you  in  the  Funns,  or 
where  are  you  ? Have  you  lately  come  to  settle  in  this 
neighbourhood,  or  do  you  own  to  another  neighbour- 
hood ? Are  you  in  independent  circumstances,  or  is  it 
wasting  the  motions  of  a bow  on  you  ? Come  ! I’ll  spec- 
ulate ! I’ll  invest  a bow  in  you.” 

Which  Mr.  Wegg,  having  replaced  his  tin  box,  accord- 
ingly did,  as  he  rose  to  bait  his  gingerbread-trap  for 

VOL.  I.  4 


so  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

some  other  devoted  infant.  The  salute  was  acknowh 
edged  with  : 

''  Morning,  sir  ! Morning  ! Morning  ! 

(‘'Calls  me  Sir!’’  said  Mr.  Wegg,  to  himself.  "iJe 
won’t  answer.  A bow  gone  ! ”) 

"Morning,  morning,  morning!” 

"Appears  to  be  rather  a ’arty  old  cock  too,”  said  Mr. 
Wegg,  as  before.  "Good  morning  to  you,  sir.” 

"Do  you  remember  me,  then?”  asked  his  new  ac- 
quaintance, stopping  in  his  amble,  one-sided,  before  the 
stall,  and  speaking  in  a pouncing  way,  though  with 
great  good-humour. 

"I  have  noticed  you  go  past  our  house,  sir,  several 
times  in  the  course  of  the  last  week  or  so.” 

" Our  house,”  repeated  the  other.  " Meaning ?” 

"Yes,”  said  Mr.  Wegg,nodding,  as  the  other  pointed  the 
clumsy  forefinger  of  his  right  glove  at  the  corner  house. 

" Oh  ! Now,  what,”  pursued  the  old  fellow,  in  an  in- 
quisitive manner,  carrying  his  knotted  stick  in  his  left 
arm  as  if  it  were  a baby,  "what  do  they  allow  you 
now  ? ” 

" It’s  job  work  that  I do  for  our  house,”  returned  Silas, 
drily,  and  with  reticence;  "it’s  not  yet  brought  to  an 
exact  allowance.” 

" Oh  ! It’s  not  yet  brought  to  an  exact  allowance  ? No  ! 
It’s  not  yet  brought  to  an  exact  allowance.  Oh  ! — Morn- 
ing, morning,  morning  ! ” 

"Appears  to  be  rather  a cracked  old  cock,”  thought 
Silas,  qualifying  his  former  good  opinion,  as  the  other 
ambled  off.  But,  in  a moment  he  was  back  again  with 
the  question  : 

" How  did  you  get  your  wooden  leg  ? ” 

Mr.  Wegg  replied  (tartly  to  this  personal  inquiry),  " In 
an  accident.” 

" Do  you  like  it  ?” 

"Well!  I haven’t  got  to  keep  it  warm,”  Mr.  Wegg 
made  answer,  in  a sort  of  desperation  occasioned  by  the 
singularity  of  the  question. 

"He  hasn’t,”  repeated  the  other  to  his  knotted  stick, 
as  he  gave  it  a hug;  "he  hasn’t  got — ha  ! — ha  ! — to  keep 
it  warm  ! Did  you  ever  hear  of  the  name  of  Boffin  ? ” 

"No,”  said  Mr.  Wegg,  who  was  growing  restive  un- 
der this  examination.  "I  never  did  hear  of  the  name 
of  Boffin.” 


i 


BOFFIN’S  BOWER  51 

Do  you  like  it  ? ” 

‘'Why,  no,”  retorted  Mr.  Wegg,  again  approaching 
desperation  ; “I  can’t  say  I do.” 

“ Why  don’t  you  like  it  ? ” 

“I  don’t  know  why  I don’t,  ” retorted  Mr.  Wegg,  ap- 
proaching frenzy,  “but  I don’t  at  all.” 

“Now,  I’ll  tell  you  something  that’ll  make  you  sorry 
for  that,”  said  the  stranger,  smiling.  “My  name’s 
Boffin.” 

“I  can’t  help  it !”  returned  Mr.  Wegg.  Implying  in 
his  manner  the  offensive  addition,  “and  if  I could,  I 
wouldn't.” 

“ But  there’s  another  chance  for  you,  ” said  Mr.  Boffin, 
smiling  still,  “Do  you  like  the  name  of  Nicodemus  ? 
Think  it  over.  Nick,  or  Noddy.” 

“It  is  not,  sir,”  Mr.  Wiegg  rejoined,  as  he  sat  down 
on  his  stool,  with  an  air  of  gentle  resignation,  combined 
with  melancholy  candour  ; “ it  is  not  a name  as  I coukl 
wish  any  one  that  I had  a respect  for  to  call  me  by  ; but 
there  may  be  persons  that  would  not  view  it  with  the 
same  objections. — I don’t  know  why,  ” Mr.  Wegg  added, 
anticipating  another  question. 

“Noddy  Boffin,”  said  that  gentleman.  “Noddy. 
That’s  my  name.  Noddy — or  Nick — Boffin.  What’s 
your  name  ? ” 

“Silas  Wegg, — I don’t,”  said  Mr.  Wegg,  bestirring 
himself  to  take  the  same  precaution  as  before,  “ I don’t 
know  why  Silas,  and  I don’t  know  why  Wegg,” 

“Now,  Wegg,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  hugging  his  stick 
closer,  “ I want  to  make  a sort  of  offer  to  you.  Do  you 
remember  when  you  first  see  me  ? ” 

The  wooden  Wegg  looked  at  him  with  a meditative 
eye,  and  also  with  a softened  air  as  descrying  possibility 
of  profit.  “ Let  me  think.  I ain’t  quite  sure,  and  yet  I 
generally  take  a powerful  sight  of  notice,  too.  Was  it 
on  a Monday  morning,  when  the  butcher-boy  had  been 
to  our  house  for  orders,  and  bought  a ballad  of  me, 
which,  being  unacquainted  with  the  tune,  I run  it  over 
to  him  ? ” 

“ Right,  Wegg,  right ! But  he  bought  more  tham  one.” 

“Yes,  to  be  sure,  sir;  he  bought  several ; and  wish- 
ing to  lay  out  his  money  to  the  best,  he  took  my  opinion 
to  guide  his  choice,  and  we  went  over  the  collection  to- 
gether, To  be  sure  we  did.  Here  was  him  as  it  niiglit 


52  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

be,  and  here  was  myself  as  it  might  be,  and  there  was 
you,  Mr.  Boffin,  as  you  identically  are,  with  your  self- 
same stick  under  your  very  same  arm,  and  your  very 
same  back  towards  us.  To — be — sure  ! ” added  Mr. 
Wegg,  looking  a little  round  Mr.  Boffin,  to  take  him  in 
the  rear,  and  identify  this  last  extraordinary  coinci- 
dence, '‘■  your  wery  self-same  back  !” 

What  do  you  think  I was  doing,  Wegg 
I should  judge,  sir,  that  you  might  be  glancing  your 
eye  down  the  street.” 

‘^No,  Wegg.  I was  a listening.” 

Was  you,  indeed  ?”  said  Mr.  Wegg,  dubiously. 

^‘Not  in  a dishonourable  way,  Wegg,  because  you 
was  singing  to  the  butcher ; and  you  wouldn’t  sing 
secrets  to  a butcher  in  the  street,  you  know.” 

^^It  never  happened  that  I-  did  so  yet,  to  the  best  of 
my  remembrance,”  said  Mr.  Wegg,  cautiously.  ^'But  I 
might  do  it.  A man  can’t  say  what  he  might  wish  to  do 
some  day  or  another.”  (This,  not  to  release  any  little 
advantage  he  might  derive  from  Mr.  Boffin’s  avowal.) 

Well,”  repeated  Boffin,  I was  a listening  to  you  and 
to  him.  And  what  do  you — you  haven’t  got  another 
stool,  have  you  ? I’m  rather  thick  in  my  breath.” 

^'I  haven’t  got  another,  but  you’re  welcome  to  this,” 
said  Wegg,  resigning  it.  It’s  a treat  to  me  to  stand.” 

‘^^Lard,”  exclaimed  Mr.  Boffin,  in  a tone  of  great 
enjoyment,  as  he  settled  himself  down,  still  nursing  his 
stick  like  a baby,  it’s  a pleasant  place,  this  ! And  then 
to  be  shut  in  on  each  side,  v/ith  these  ballads,  like  so 
many  book-leaf  blinkers  ! Why,  it’s  delightful ! ” 

''If  I am  not  mistaken,  sir,”  Mr.  Wegg  delicately 
hinted,  resting  a hand  on  his  stall,  and  bending  over  the 
discursive  Boffin,  " you  alluded  to  some  offer  or  another 
that  was  in  your  mind  ? ” 

"I’m  coming  to  it ! All  right.  I’m  coming  to  it ! I 
was  going  to  say  that  when  I listened  that  morning,  I 
listened  with  hadmiration  amounting  to  haw.  I th(#ught 
to  myself,  ' Here’s  a man  with  a wooden  leg — a literary 
man  with — ’ ” 

"N — not  exactly  so,  sir,”  said  Mr.  Wegg. 

"Why,  you  know  every  one  of  these  songs  by  name 
and  by  tune,  and  if  you  want  to  read  or  to  sing  any  one 
on  ’em  off  straight,  you’ve  only  to  whip  on  your  specta- 
cles and  do  it !.”  cried  Mr.  Boffin  " I see  you  at  it ! ” 


BOFFIN^S  BOWER. 


53 


Well,  sir,’’  returned  Mi%  Wegg,  with  a conscious  in- 
clination of  the  head  ; we’ll  say  literary,  then.” 

literary  man — ivith  a wooden  leg — and  all  Print 
is  open  to  him!’  That’s  what  I thought  to  myself  that 
morning,’^  pursued  Mr.  Boffin,  Leaning  forward  to  des- 
cribe, uncramped  by  the  clothes-horse,  as  large  an  arc 
as  his  right  arm  could  make;  ^^‘^all  Print  is  open  to 
him!’  And  it  is,  ain’t  it  ?” 

Why,  truly,  sir,”  Mr.  Wegg  admitted,  with  modesty; 

believe  you  couldn’t  show  me  the  piece  of  English 
print,  that  I wouldn’t  be  equal  to  collaring  and  throw- 
ing.” 

On  the  spot  ?”  said  Mr.  Boffin. 

On  the  spot.” 

I know’d  it!  Then  consider  this.  Here  am  I,  a man 
without  a wooden  leg,  and  yet  all  print  is  shut  to  me.” 

‘‘Indeed,  sir?”  Mr.  Wegg  returned  with  increasing 
self-complacency.  “ Education  neglected  ? ” 

“Neg-lected,”  repeated  Mr.  Boffin,  with  emphasis. 
“That  ain’t  no  word  for  it.  I don’t  mean  to  say  but 
what  if  you  showed  me  a B,  I could  so  far  give  you 
change  for  it,  as  to  answer  Boffin.” 

“Come,  come,  sir,”  said  Mr.  Wegg,  throwing  in  a lit- 
tle encouragement,  “that’s  something  too.” 

“ It’s 'Something,”  answered  Mr.  Boffin,  “but  I’ll  take 
my  oath  it  ain’t  much.” 

“Perhaps  it’s  not  as  much  as  could  be  wished  by  an 
inquiring  mind,  sir,”  Mr.  Wegg  admitted. 

“Now,  look  here.  I’m  retired  from  business.  Me 
and  Mrs.  Boffin — Henerietty  Boffin — which  her  father’s 
name  was  Henery,  and  her  mother’s  name  was  Hetty, 
and  so  you  get  'it— we  live  on  a compittance,  under  the 
will  of  a deceased  governor.” 

“Gentleman  dead,  sir?” 

“ Man  alive,  don’t  I tell  you  ? A deceased  governor  ? 
Now,  it’s  too  late  for  me  to  begin  shovelling  and  sifting 
at  alphabeds  and  grammar-books.  I’m  getting  to  be  a 
old  bird,  and  I want  to  take  it  easy.  But  I want  some 
reading — some  fine,  bold  reading,  some  splendid  booJc 
in  a gorging  Lord-Mayor’s  Show  of  wollurnes  ” (proba- 
bly meaning  gorgeous,  but  misled  by  association  of 
ideas) ; “as’ll  reach  right  down  your  pint  of  view,  and 
take  time  to  go  by  you.  How  can  I get  that  reading, 
Y/egg  ? By,”  tapping  him  on  the  breast  with  the  head 


54 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


of  his  stick,  ' Spaying  a man  truly  qualified  to  do  it,  so 
much  an  hour  (say  twopence)  to  come  and  do  it.’’ 

^^Hem  ! Flattered,  sir,  I am  sure,”  said  Wegg,  begin- 
ning to  regard  himself  quite  in  a new  light.  ^^Hem! 
This  is  the  offer  you  mentioned,  sir  ? ” 

Yes.  Do  you  like  it  ?” 

am  considering  of  it,  Mr.  Boffin.” 

I don’t,”  said  Boffin,  in  a free-handed  manner,  ^^want 
to  tie  a literary  man — with  a wooden  leg — down  too 
tight.  A halfpenny  an  hour  shan’t  part  us.  The  hours 
are  your  own  to  choose,  after  you’ve  done  for  the  day 
with  your  house  here.  I live  over  Maiden-Lane  way — 
out  Holloway  direction — and  you’ve  only  got  to  go  East- 
and-by-North  when  you’ve  finished  here,  and  you’re 
there.  Twopence  halfpenny  an  hour,”  said  Boffin, 
taking  a piece  of  chalk  from  his  pocket  and  getting  off 
the  stool  to  work  the  sum  on  the  top  of  it  in  his  own 
way;  ^^two  long’uns  and  a short’un — twopence  half- 
penny ; two  short’uns  is  a long’un  and  two  two  long’uns 
is  four  long’uns — making  five  long’uns ; six  nights 
a week  at  fi  ve  long’uns  a night,”  scoring  them  all  down 
separately,  ^^and  you  mount  up  to  thirty  long’uns. 
A roundun  ! Half  a crown  ! ”* 

Pointing  to  this  result  as  a large  and  satisfactory  one, 
Mr.  Boffin  smeared  it  out  with  his  moistened  glove,  and 
sat  down  on  the  remains. 

^^Half  a crown,”  said  Wegg,  meditating.  ^Wes.  (It 
ain’t  much,  sir.)  Half-a-crown.” 

‘^Per  week,  you  know.” 

^^Per  week.  Yes.  As  to  the  amount  of  strain  upon 
the  intellect  now.  Was  you  thinking  at  all  of  poetry  ? ” 
Mr.  Wegg  inquired,  musing. 

Would  it  come  dearer  ?”  Mr.  Boffin  asked. 

^^It  would  come  dearer,”  Mr.  Wegg  returned.  ^^For 
when  a person  comes  to  grind  off  poetry  night  after 
night,  it  is  but  right  he  should  expect  to  be  paid  for  its 
weakening  effect  on  his  mind.”  . 

To  tell  you  the  truth,  Wegg,”  said  Boffin,  I wasn’t 
thinking  of  poetry,  except  in  so  far  as  this  : — If  you  was 
to  happen  now  and  then  to  feel  yourself  in  the  mind  to 
tip  me  and  Mrs.  Boffin  one  of  your  ballads,  why  then 
we  should  drop  into  poetry.” 

'‘1  follow  you,  sir,”  said  Wegg.  ^“^But  not  being  a 
regular  musical  professional,  I should  be  loth  to  engage 


BOFFIN'S  BOWEE 


myself  for  that ; and  therefore  when  I dropped  into 
poetry,  I should  ask  to  be  considered  so  fur,  in  the  light 
of  a friend.’’ 

At  this,  Mr.  Boffin’s  eyes  sparkled,  and  he  shook  Silas 
earnestly  by  the  hand,  protesting  that  it  was  more  than 
he  could  have  asked,  and  that  he  took  it  very  kindly 
indeed. 

What  do  you  think  of  the  terms,  Wegg?”  Mr.  Bof- 
fin then  demanded,  with  unconcealed  anxiety. 

Silas,  who  had  stimulated  this  anxiety  by  his  hard 
reserve  of  manner,  and  who  had  begun  to  understand 
his  man  very  well,  replied  with  an  air  as  if  he  were  say- 
ing something  extraordinarily  generous  and  great. 

^^Mr.  Boffin,  I never  bargain.” 

''So  I should  have  thought  of  you,”  said  Mr.  Boffin, 
admiringly. 

"No,  sir.  I never  did  ’aggie,  and  I never  will  ’aggie. 
Consequently  I meet  you  at  once,  free  and  fair,  wim — 
Done,  for  double  the  money!” 

Mr.  Boffin  seemed  a little  unprepared  for  this  conclu- 
sion, but  assented,  with  the  remark,  "You  know  better 
what  it  ought  to  be  than  I do,  Wegg,”  and  again  shook 
hands  with  him  upon  it. 

" Could  you  begin  to-night,  Wegg?”  he  then  demand- 
ed. 

"Yes,  sir,”  said  Wegg,  careful  to  leave  all  the  eager- 
ness to  him.  "I  see  no  difficulty  if  you  wish  it.  You 
are  provided  with  the  needful  implement — a book,  sir?” 

"Bought  him  at  a sale,”  said  Mr.  Boffin.  "Eight 
wollumes.  Red  and  Gold.  Purple  ribbon  in  every  wol- 
lume,  to  keep  the  place  where  you  leave  off.  Do  you 
know  him?” 

"The  book’s  name,  sir?”  inquired  Silas. 

"I  thought  you  might  have  knowed  him  without  it,” 
said  Mr.  Boffin,  slightly  disappointed.  "His  name  is 
Decline- And-Fall-Off-The-Rooshan-Empire.  ” (Mr.  Bof- 
fin went  over  these  stones  slowly,  and  with  much  cau- 
tion.) 

" Ay,  indeed!”  said  Mr.  Wegg,  nodding  his  head  with 
an  air  of  friendly  recognition. 

"You  know  him,  Wegg?” 

" I haven’t  been  not  to  say  right  slap  through  him, 
very  lately,”  Mr.  Wegg  made  answer,  "having  been 
otherwise  employed,  Mr.  Boffin.  But  know  him?  Old 


DUE  MUTUAL  FEIEjTD. 


S6 

familiar  declining  and  falling  off  the  Rooshan?  Rather, 
sir!  Ever  since  I was  not  so  high  as  your  stick.  Ever 
since  my  eldest  brother  left  our  cottage  to  enlist  into 
the  army.  On  which  occasion,  as  the  ballad  that  was 
made  about  it  describes  : 

“Beside  that  cottage  door,  Mr.  Boffin, 

A girl  was  on  her  knees ; 

She  held  aloft  a snowy  scarf.  Sir, 

Which  (my  eldest  brother  noticed)  fluttered  in  the  breeze. 

She  breathed  a prayer  for  him,  Mr.  Boffin ; 

A prayer  he  could  not  hear. 

And  my  eldest  brother  leaned  upon  his  sword,  Mr.  Boffin, 

And  wiped  away  a tear.” 

Much  impressed  by  this  family  circumstance,  and 
also  by  the  friendly  disposition  of  Mr.  Wegg,  as  exem- 
plified in  his  so  soon  dropping  into  poetry,  Mr.  Boffin 
again  shook  hands  with  that  ligneous  sharper,  and  be- 
sought him  to  name  his  hour.  Mr.  Wegg  named  eight. 

Where  I live,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  is  called  The  Bower. 
Boffin’s  Bower  is  the  name  Mrs.  Boffin  christened  it 
when  we  come  into  it  as  a property.  If  you  should  meet 
with  anybody  that  don’t  know  it  by  that  name  (which 
hardly  anybody  does),  when  you’ve  got  nigh  upon  about 
a odd  mile,  or  say  and  a quarter  if  you  like,  up  Maiden 
Lane,  Battle  Bridge,  ask  for  Harmony  Jail,  and  you’ll 
be  put  right.  I shall  expect  you,  Wegg,”  said  Mr.  Boffin, 
clapping  him  on  the  shoulder  with  the  greatest  enthusi- 
asm, ^^most  jyfully.  I shall  have  no  peace  or  patience 
till  you  come.  Print  is  now  opening  ahead  of  me.  This 
night  a literary  man — with  a wooden  leg — ” he  bestowed 
an  admiring  look  upon  that  decoration,  as  if  it  greatly 
enhanced  the  relish  of  Mr.  Wegg’s  attainments — will 
begin  to  lead  me  a new  life!  My  fist  again,  Wegg. 
Morning,  morning,  morning!” 

Left  alone  at  his  stall  as  the  other  ambled  off,  Mr. 
Wegg  subsided  into  his  screen,  produced  a small  pocket- 
handkerchief  of  a penitentially-scrubbing  character, 
and  took  himself  by  the  nose  with  a thoughtful  aspect. 
Also,  while  he  still  grasped  that  feature,  he  directed 
several  thoughtful  looks  down  the  street,  after  the  re- 
tiring figure  of  Mr.  Boffin.  But  profound  gravity  sat 
enthroned  on  Wegg’s  countenance.  For,  while  he  con- 
sidered within  himself  that  this  was  an  old  fellow  of 
rare  simplicity,  that  this  was  an  opportunity  to  be  im- 
proved, and  that  here  might  be  money  to  be  got  beyond 
present  calculation,  still  he  compromised  himself  by  no 


BOFFIN’S  BOWEK 


57 


admission  that  his  new  engagement  was  at  all  out  of 
his  way,  or  involved  the  least  element  of  the  ridiculous. 
Mr.  Wegg  would  even  have  picked  a handsome  quarrel 
with  anyone  who  should  have  challenged  his  deep  ac- 
quaintance with  those  aforesaid  eight  volumes  of 
Decline  and  Fall.  His  gravity  was  unusual,  portentous, 
and  immeasurable,  not  because  he  admitted  any  doubt 
of  himself,  but  because  he  perceived  it  necessary  to  fore- 
stall any  doubt  of  himself  in  others.  And  herein  he 
, ranged  with  that  very  numerous  class  of  imposters, 
who  are  quite  as  determined  to  keep  up  appearances  to 
themselves,  as  to  their  neighbours. 

A certain  loftiness,  likewise,  took  possession  of  Mr. 
Wegg;  a condescending  sense  of  being  in  request  as  an 
official  expounder  of  mysteries.  It  did  not  move  him 
to  commercial  greatness,  but  rather  to  littleness,  inso- 
much that  if  it  had  been  within  the  possibilities  of 
things  for  the  wooden  measure  to  hold  fewer  nuts  than 
usual,  it  would  have  done  so  that  day.  But,  when  night 
came,  and  with  her  veiled  eyes  beheld  him  stumping 
towards  Boffin’s  Bower,  he  was  elated  too. 

The  Bower  was  as  difficult  to  find,  as  Fair  Rosamond’s 
without  the  clue.  Mr.  Wegg,  having  reached  the  quar- 
ter indicated,  inquired  for  the  Bower  half  a dozen  times 
without  the  least  success,  until  he  remembered  to  ask 
for  Harmony  Jail.  This  occasioned  a quick  change  in 
the  spirits  of  a hoarse  gentleman  and  a donkey,  whom 
he  had  much  perplexed. 

Why,  yer  mean  Old  Harmon’s,  do  yer?”  said  the 
hoarse  gentleman,  who  was  driving  his  donkey  in  a 
truck,  with  a carrot  for  a whip.  ^^Why  didn’t  yer 
niver  say  so?  Eddard  and  me  is  goin’  by  him!  Jump  in!  ” 

Mr.  Wegg  complied,  and  the  hoarse  gentleman  invited 
his  attention  to  the  third  person  in  the  company,  thus : 

^^Now,  you  look  at  Eddard’s  ears.  What  was  it  you 
named,  agin?  Whisper.” 

Mr.  Wegg  whispered,  Boffin’s  Bower.” 

Eddard!  (keep  yer  hi  on  his  eaTs)  cut  away  to  Bof- 
fin’s Bower!” 

Edward,  with  his  ears  lying  back,  remained  immov- 
able. 

‘^Eddard!  (keep  yer  hi  on  his  ears)  cut  away  to  old 
Harmon’s.” 

Edv/ard  instantly  pricked  up  his  ears  to  the  utmost. 


58 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


and  rattled  off  at  sucn  a pace  that  Mr.  Wegg’s  conversa- 
tion was  jolted  out  of  him  in  a most  dislocated  state. 

Was-it-Ev-verajail?”  asked  Mr.  Wegg,  holding  on. 

Not  a proper  jail,  wot  you  and  me  would  get  com- 
mitted to,’"  returned  his  escort;  ^^they  giv’  it  the  name, 
on  accounts  of  Old  Harmon  living  solitary  there.” 

And-why-did-they-callitharm-Ony?”  asked  Wegg. 

On  accounts  of  his  never  agreeing  with  nobody. 
Like  a speeches  of  chaff.  Harmon’s  jail;  Harmony 
Jail;  Working  it  round  like.” 

Doyouknow-Mist-Erboff-in?”  asked  Wegg. 

I should  think  so!  Every  Tody  do  about  here.  Ed- 
dard  knows  him.  (Keep  yer  hi  on  his  ears.)  Noddy 
Boffin,  Eddardl’ 

The  effect  of  the  name  was  so  very  alarming,  in  respect 
of  causing  a temporary  disappearance  of  Edward’s  head, 
casting  his  hind  hoofs  in  the  air,  greatly  accelerating 
the  pace  and  increasing  the  jolting,  that  Mr.  Wegg  was 
fain  to  devote  his  attention  exclusively  to  holding  on, 
and  to  relinquish  his  desire  of  ascertaining  whether  this 
homage  to  Boffin  was  to  be  considered  complimentary 
or  the  reverse. 

Presently,  Edv\^ard  stopped  at  a gateway,  and  Wegg 
discreetly  lost  no  time  in  slipping  out  at  the  back  of  the 
truck.  The  moment  he  was  landed,  his  late  driver,  with 
a wave  of  the  carrot,  said,  ''Supper,  Eddardl”  and  he, 
the  hind  hoofs,  the  truck,  and  Edward,  all  seemed  to 
fly  into  the  air  together,  in  a kind  of  apotheosis. 

Pushing  the  gate,  which  stood  ajar,  Wegg  looked  into 
an  enclosed  space  where  certain  tall  dark  mounds  rose 
high  against  the  sky,  and  where  the  pathway  to  the 
Bower  was  indicated,  as  the  moonlight  shov/ed,  between 
two  lines  of  broken  crockery  set  in  ashes.  A white 
figure  advancing  along  this  path,  proved  to  be  nothing 
more  ghostly  than  Mr.  Boffin,  easily  attired  for  the 
pursuit  of  knowledge,  in  an  undress  garment  of  short 
white  smock-frock.  Having  received  his  literary  friend 
with  great  cordiality,  he  conducted  him  to  the  interior 
of  the  Bower  and  there  presented  him  to  Mrs,  Boffin: — a 
stout  lady  of  a rubicund  and  cheerful  aspect,  dressed  (to 
Mr.  Wegg’s  consternation)  in  a low  evening-dress  of 
sable  satin,  and  a large  black  velvet  hat  and  feathers. 

"Mrs.  Boffin,  Wegg,”  said  Boffin,  "is  a highflyer  at 
Fashion,  And  her  make  is  such,  that  she  does  it  credit. 


BOFFIN’S  BOWER. 


59 


As  to  myself,  I ain’t  yet  as  Fash’nable  as  I may  come 
to  be.  Henerietty,  old  lady,  this  is  the  gentleman 
that’s  a going  to  decline  and  fall  off  the  Rooshan 
Etnpire.” 

''And  I am  sure  I hope  it’ll  do  you  both  good,”  said 
Mrs.  Boffin. 

It  was  the  queerest  of  rooms,  fitted  and  furnished 
more  like  a luxurious  amateur  tap-room  than  anything 
else  within  the  ken  of  Silas  Wegg.  There  were  two 
wooden  settles  by  the  fire,  one  on  either  side  of  it,  with 
a corresponding  table  before  each.  On  one  of  these 
tables  the  eight  volumes  were  ranged  flat,  in  a row, 
like  a galvanic  battery  ; on  the  other,  certain  squat  case- 
bottles  of  inviting  appearance  seemed  to  stand  on  tiptoe 
to  exchange  glances  with  Mr.  Wegg  over  a front  row 
of  tumblers  and  a basin  of  white  sugar.  On  the  hob, 
a kettle  steamed  ; on  the  hearth,  a cat  reposed.  Facing 
the  Are  between  the  settles,  a sofa,  a footstool,  and  a 
little  table,  formed  a centrepiece  devoted  to  Mrs.  Boffin. 
They  were  garish  in  taste  and  colour,  but  were  ex- 
pensive articles  of  drawing-room  furniture,  that  had  a 
very  odd  look  beside  the  settles  and  the  flaring  gaslight 
pendant  from  the  ceiling.  There  was  a flowery  carpet 
on  the  floor ; but,  instead  of  reaching  to  the  fireside, 
its  glowing  vegetation  stopped  short  at  Mrs.  Boffin’s 
footstool,  and  gave  place  to  a region  of  sand  and  saw- 
dust. Mr.  Wegg  also  noticed,  with  admiring  eyes,  that, 
while  the  flowery  land  displayed  such  hollow  orna- 
mentation as  stuffed  birds  and  waxen  fruits  under  glass- 
shades,  there  were,  in  the  territory  where  vegetation 
ceased,  compensatory  shelves  on  which  the  best  part  of 
a large  pie  and  likewise  of  a cold  joint  were  plainly 
discernible  among  other  solids.  The  room  itself  was 
large,  though  low ; and  the  heavy  frames  of  its  old- 
fashioned  window^s,  and  the  heavy  beams  in  its  crooked 
ceiling,  seemed  to  indicate  that  it  had  once  been  a house 
of  some  mark  standing  alone  in  the  country. 

"Do  you  like  it,  Wegg?”  asked  Mr.  Boffin,  in  his 
pouncing  manner. 

"I  admire  it  greatly,  sir,”  said  Wegg.  "Peculiar 
comfort  at  this  fireside,  sir.” 

"Do  you  understand  it,  Wegg?” 

"Why,  in  a general  way,  sir,”  Mr.  Wegg  was  be- 
ginning slowly  and  knovvdngly.  with  his  head  stuck  on 


60  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND, 

one  side,  as  evasive  people  do  begin,  Avhen  the  other  cut 
him  short  : 

You  donH  understand  it,  Wegg,  and  ITl  explain  it. 
These  arrangements  is  made  by  mutual  consent  be- 
tween Mrs.  Boffin  and  me.  Mrs.  Boffin,  as  Fve  men- 
tion, is  a highflyer  at  Fashion  ; at  present  I’m  not.  I 
don’t  go  higher  than  comfort,  and  comfort  of  the  sort 
that  I’m  equal  to  the  enjyment  of.  Well  then.  Where 
would  be  the  good  of  Mrs.  Boffin  and  me  quarrelling 
over  it?  We  never  did  quarrel,  before  we  come  into 
Boffin’s  Bower  as  a property ; why  quarrel  when  we 
have  come  into  Boffin’s  Bower  as  a property  ? So  Mrs. 
Boffin,  she  keeps  up  her  part  of  the  room,  in  her  way  ; I 
keep  up  my  part  of  the  room  in  mine.  In  consequence 
of  which  we  have  at  once,  Sociability  (I  should  go 
melancholy  mad  without  Mrs.  Boffin),  Fashion,  and 
Comfort.  If  I -get  by  degrees  to  be  a high-flyer  at 
Fashion,  then  Mrs.  Boffin  will  by  degrees  come 
for’arder.  If  Mrs.  Boffin  should  ever  be  less  of  a dab  at 
Fashion  than  she  is  at  the  present  time,  then  Mrs. 
Boffin’s  carpet  would  go  back’arder.  If  we  should  both 
continny  as  we  are,  why  then  here  we  are,  and  give  us 
a kiss,  old  lady.” 

Mrs.  Boffin,  who,  perpetually  smiling,  had  approached 
and  drawn  her  plump  arm  though  her  lord’s,  most  will- 
ingly complied.  Fashion,  in  the  form  of  her  black 
velvet  hat  and  feathers,  tried  to  prevent  it ; but  got  de- 
servedly crushed  in  the  endeavour. 

''So,  now,  Wegg,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  wiping  his  mouth 
with  an  air  of  much  refreshment,  "you  begin  to  know 
us  as  we  are.  This  is  a charming  spot,  is  the  Bower, 
but  you  must  get  to  appreciate  it  by  degrees.  It’s  a 
spot  to  find  out  th^  merits  of,  little  by  little,  and  a 
new’un  every  day.  There’s  a serpentining  v>^alk.up  each 
of  the  mounds,  that  gives  you  the  yard  and  neighbour- 
hood changing  every  moment.  When  you  get  to  the 
top,  there’s  a view  of  the  neighbouring  premises,  not  to 
be  surpassed.  The  premises  of  Mrs.  Boffin’s  late  father 
(Canine  Provision  Trade),  you  look  down  into,  as  if 
they  was  your  own.  And  the  top  of  the  High  Mound  is 
crowned  with  a lattice-work  Arbour,  in  which,  if  you 
don’t  read  out  loud  many  a book  in  the  summer,  ay, 
and  as  a friend,  drop  many  a time  into  poetry  too,  it 
shan’t  be  my  fault.  Now,  what’ll  you  read  on  ?” 


BOFFIN‘S  BOAVER. 


(R 


Thank  you,  sir,”  returned  AVegg,  as  if  there  were 
nothing  new  in  his  reading  at  alL  generally  do  it 
on  gin  and  water.” 

''  Keeps  the  grgan  moist,  does  it,  AVegg  ?”  asked  Mr. 
Boffin,  with  innocent  eagerness. 

^^N-no,  sir,”  replied  AVegg,  coolly,  should  hardly 
describe  it  so,  sir.  I should  say,  mellers  it.  Metiers  it, 
is  the  word  I should  employ,  Mr.  Boffin.” 

His  wooden  conceit  and  craft  kept  exact  pace  with 
the  delighted  expectation  of  his  victim.  The  visions 
rising  before  his  mercenary  mind,  of  the  many  ways  in 
which  this  connection  was  to  be  turned  to  account, 
never  obscured  the  formost  idea  natural  to  a dull  over- 
reaching man,  that  he  must  not  make  himself  too  cheap. 

Mrs.  Boffin’s  Fashion,  as  a less  inexorable  deity  than 
the  idol  usually  worshipped  under  that  name,  did  not 
forbid  her  mixing  for  her  literary  guest,  or  asking  if  he 
found  the  result  to  his  liking.  On  his  returning  a gra- 
cious answer  and  taking  his  place  at  the  literary  settle, 
Mr.  Boffin  began  to  Compose  himself  as  a listener,  at  the 
opposite  settle,  with  exultant  eyes. 

''Sorry  to  deprive  you  of  a pipe,  AVegg,”  he  said, 
filling  his  own,  "but  you  can’t  do  both  together.  Oh  ! 
and  another  thing  I forgot  to  name  ! AVhen  you  come 
in  here  of  an  evening,  and  look  round  you,  and  notice 
anything  on  a shelf  that  happens  to  catch  your  fancy, 
mention  it.” 

AVegg,  who  had  been  going  to  put  on  his  spectacles, 
immediately  laid  them  down,  with  the  sprightly  obser- 
vation : 

■ n .1  eyes  deceive 


there  a — a pie  ? It  can’t  be  a 


pie. 


"Yes,  it’s  a pie,  AVegg,”  replied  Mr.  Boffin,  with  a 
glance  of  some  little  discomfiture  at  the  Decline  and 


Fall. 


‘‘Have  I lost  my  smell  for  fruits,  or  is  it  a apple  pie, 
sir  ?”  asked  AVegg. 

"It’s  a veal  and  ham  pie,”  said  Mr.  Boffin. 

" Is  it  indeed,  sir  ? And  it  would  be  hard,  sir,  to  name 
the  pie  that  is  better  pie  than  a weal  and  hammer,” 
said  Mr.  AVegg,  nodding  his  head  emotionally. 

" Have  some,  AVegg  ?” 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Boffin,  I think  I will,  at  your  invi- 


62 


OUE  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


tation.  I wouldn’t  at  any  other  party’s  at  the  present 
juncture  : but  at  yours,  sir  ! — And  meaty  jelly  too, 
when  a little  salt,  which  is  the  case  when  there’s  ham, 
is  mellering  to  the  organ,  is  very  mellering  to  the  organ.” 
Mr.  Wegg  did  not  say  what  organ,  but  spoke  with  a 
cheerful  generality. 

So,  the  pie  was  brought  down,  and  the  worthy  Mr. 
Boffin  exercised  his  patience  until  Wegg,  in  the  exer- 
cise of  his  knife  and  fork,  had  finished  the  dish ; only 
profiting  by  the  opportunity  to  inform  Wegg  that  al- 
though it  was  not  strictly  Fashionable  to  keep  the  con- 
tents of  a larder  thus  exposed  to  view,  he  (Mr.  Boffin) 
considered  it  hospitable  ; for  the  reason,  that  instead  of 
saying,  in  a comparatively  unmeaning  manner,  to  a 
visitor,  ^ There  are  such  and  such  edibles  down  stairs  ; 
will  you  have  anything  up  ?’  you  took  the  bold  practical 
course  of  saying,  ^ Cast  your  eye  along  the  shelves,  and, 
if  you  see  anything  you  like  there,  have  it  down.’ 

And  nov7,  Mr.  Wegg  at  length  pushed  away  his  plate 
and  put  on  his  spectacles,  and  Mr.  Boffin  lighted  his 
pipe  and  looked  with  beaming  eyes  into  the  opening 
world  before  him,  and  Mrs.  Boffin  reclined  in  a fashion- 
able manner  on  her  sofa  : as  one  who  would  be  part  of 
the  audience  if  she  found  she  could,  and  would  go  to 
sleep  if  she  found  she  couldn’t. 

^^Hem!”  began  Wegg,'^  This,  Mr.  Boffin  and  Lady,  is 
the  first  chapter  of  the  first  wollume  of  the  Decline  and 
Fall  off ” here  he  looked  hard  at  the  book  and  stop- 

ped. 

What’s  the  matter,  Wegg  ?” 

Why  it  comes  into  my  mind,  do  you  know,  sir,”  said 
Wegg  with  an  air  of  insinuating  frankness  (having 
first  again  looked  hard  at  the  book),  that  you  made  a 
little  mistake  this  morning,  which  I had  meant  to  set 
you  right  in,  only  something  put  it  out  of  my  head.  I 
think  you  said  Rooshan  Empire,  sir  ?” 

It  is  Rooshan  ; ain’t  it,  Wegg  ?” 

^‘^No,  sir.  Roman.  Roman.” 

What’s  the  difference,  Wegg  ?” 

''  The  difference,  sir  ?”  Mr.  Wegg  was  faltering  and 
in  danger  of  breaking  down,  when  a bright  thought 
flashed  upon  him.  The  difference,  sir  ? There  you 
place  me  in  a difficulty,  Mr.  Boffin.  Suffice  it  to  ob- 
serve, that  the  difference  is  best  postponed  to  some 


BOFFIN’S  BO  WER. 


63 


other  occasion  when  Mrs.  Boffin  does  not  honour  us 
with  her  company.  In  Mrs.  Boffin’s  presence,  sir,  we 
had  better  drop  it.” 

Mr.  Wegg  thus  came  out  of  his  disadvantage  with 
quite  a chivalrous  air,  and  noir  only  that,  but  by  dint  of 
repeating  with  a manly  delicacy,  ''  In  Mrs.  Boffin’s 
presence,  sir,  we  had  better  drop  it!”  turned  the  disad- 
vantage on  Boffin,  who  felt  that  he  had  committed  him- 
self in  a very  painful  manner. 

Then  Mr.  Wegg,  in  a dry  unflinching  way,  entered 
on  his  task  ; going  straight  across  country  at  everything 
that  came  before  him ; taking  all  the  hard  words,  bio- 
graphical and  geographical ; getting  rather  shaken  by 
Hadrian,  Trajan,  and  the  Antonines  ; stumbling  at 
Polybius  (pronounced  Polly  Beeius,  and  supposed  by 
Mr.  Boffin  to  be  a Roman  virgin,  and  by  Mrs.  Boffin  to 
be  responsible  for  that  necessity  of  dropping  it)  ; 
heavily  unseated  by  Titus  Antoninus  Pius  ; up  again 
and  galloping  smoothly  vfith  Augustus  ; finally,  getting 
over  the  ground  well  with  Commodus  : who,  under  the 
appellation  of  Commodious,  was  held  by  Mr.  Boffin  to 
have  been  quite  unworthy  of  his  English  origin,  and 

not  to  have  acted  up  to  his  name  ” in  his  government 
of  the  Roman  people.  With  the  death  of  this  personage, 
Mr.  Wegg  terminated  his  first  reading;  long  before 
which  consummation  several  total  eclipses  of  Mrs.  Bof- 
fin’s candle  behind  her  black  velvet  disc  would  have 
been  very  alarming,  but  for  being  regularly  accom- 
panied by  a potent  smell  of  burnt  pens  when  her  feath- 
ers took  fire,  which  acted  as  a restorative  and  woke 
her.  Mr.  Wegg,  having  read  on  by  rote  and  attached 
as  few  ideas  as  possible  to  the  text,  came  out  of  the  en- 
counter fresh ; but  Mr.  Boffin,  who  had  soon  laid  down 
his  unfinished  pipe,  and  had  ever  since  sat  intently  star- 
ing with  his  eyes  and  mind  at  the  confounding  enormi- 
ties of  the  Romans,  was  so  severely  punished  that  he 
could  hardly  wish  his  literary  friend  Good-night,  and 
articulate  ^‘To-morrow.” 

Commodious,  ” gasped  Mr.  Boffin,  staring  at  the 
moon,  after  letting  Wegg  out  at  the  gate  and  fastening 
it : Commodious  fights  in  that  wild-beast-show,  seven 

hundred  and  thirty-five  times,  in  one  character  only  ! 
As  if  that  wasn’t  stunning  enough,  a hundred  lions  is 
turned  into  the  same  wild-beast-show  all  at  once  1 As 


64 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


if  that  wasn’t  stunning  enough,  Commodious,  in  anoth- 
er character,  kills  ’ em  all  off  in  a hundred  goes  ! As  if 
that  wasn’t  stunning  enough,  Vittle-us  (and  well  named 
too)  eats  six  millions’  worth  English  money,  in  seven 
months  ! Wegg  takes  i^  easy  but  upon-my-soul  to  an 
old  bird  like  myself  these  are  scarers.  And  even  now 
that  Commodious  is  strangled,  I don’t  see  a way  to  our 
bettering  ourselves.”  Mr.  Boffin  a'dded  as  he  turned 
his  pensive  steps  towards  the  Bower  and  shook  his  head, 
didn’t  think  this  morning  there  was  half  so  many 
Scarers  in  Print.  But  I’m  in  for  it  now  ! ” 


CHAPTER  VI. 

CUT  ADRIFT. 

The  Six  Jolly  Fellowship-Porters,  already  mentioned 
as  a tavern  of  a dropsical  appearance,  had  long 
settled  down  into  a state  of  hale  infirmity.  In  its  whole 
constitution  it  had  not  a straight  fioor,  and  hardly  a 
straight  line  ; but  it  had  outlasted,  and  clearly  would  yet 
outlast,  many  a better-trimmed  building,  many  a sprucer 
public-house.  Externally,  it  was  a narrow  lopsided 
wooden  jumble  of  corpulent  windows  heaped  one  upon 
another  as  you  might  heap  as  many  toppling  oranges, 
with  a crazy  wooden  verandah  impending  over  the  water; 
indeed  the  whole  house,  inclusive  of  the  complaining 
fiag-staff  on  the  roof,  impended  over  the  water,  but 
seemed  to  have  got  into  the  condition  of  a faint-hearted 
diver  who  has  paused  so  long  on  the  brink  that  he  will 
never  go  in  at  all. 

This  description  applies  to  the  river-frontage  of  the 
Six  Jolly  Fellowship-Porters.  The  back  of  the  establish- 
ment, though  the  chief  entrance  was  there,  so  contracted 
that  it  merely  represented,  in  its  connection  with  the 
front,  the  handle  of  a fiat  iron  set  upright  on  its  broadest 
end.  This  handle  stood  at  the  bottom  of  a wilderness 
of  court  and  alley  : which  wilderness  pressed  so  hard 
and  close  upon  the  Six  Jolly  Fellowship-Porters  as  to 
leave  the  hostelry  not  an  inch  of  ground  beyond  its  door. 
For  this  reason,  in  combination  with  the  fact  that  the 
house  was  all  hut  afloat  at  high  water,  when  the  Porters 


OUT  ADRIFT. 


65 


had  a family  wash  the  linen  subjected  to  that  operation 
might  usually  be  seen  drying  on  lines  stretched  across 
the  reception-rooms  and  bed-chambers. 

The  wood  forming  the  chimney-pieces,  beams,  parti- 
tions, floors,  and  doors  of  the  Six  Jolly  Fellowship-Por- 
ters, seemed  in  its  old  age  fraught  with  confused  memo- 
ries of  its  youth.  In  many  places  it  had  become  gnarled 
and  riven,  according  to  the  manner  of  old  trees;  knots 
started  out  of  it;  and  here  and  there  it  seemed  to  twist 
itself  into  some  likeness  of  boughs.  In  this  state  of 
second  childhood,  it  had  an  air  of  being  in  its  own  way 
garrulous  about  its  early  life.  Not  without  reason  was 
it  often  asserted  by  the  regular  frequenters  of  the  Por- 
ters, that  when  the  light  shone  full  upon  the  grain  of 
certain  panels,  and  particularly  upon  an  old  corner  cup- 
board of  walnut-wood  in  the  bar,  you  might  trace  little 
forests  there,  and  tiny  trees  like  the  parent  tree,  in  full, 
umbrageous  leaf. 

The  bar  of  the  Six  Jolly  Fellowship  Porters  was  a bar 
to  soften  the  human  breast.  The  available  space  in  it 
was  not  much  larger  than  a hackney-coach;  but  no  one 
could  have  wished  the  bar  bigger,  that  space  was  so  girt 
in  by  corpulent  little  casks,  and  by  cordial-bottles  radi- 
ant with  flctitious  grapes  in  bunches,  and  by  lemons  in 
nets,  and  by  biscuits  in  baskets,  and  by  the  polite  beer 
pulls  that  made  low  bows  when  customers  were  served 
with  beer,  and  by  the  cheese  in  a snug  corner,  and  by 
the  landlady’s  own  small  table  in  a snugger  corner  by 
the  Are,  with  the  cloth  everlastingly  laid.  This  haven 
was  divided  from  the  rough  world  by  a glass  partition 
and  a half-door,  with  a leaden  sill  upon  it  for  the  con- 
venience of  resting  your  liquor;  but  over  this  half-door 
the  bar’s  snugness  so  gushed  forth  that,  albeit  custom- 
ers drank  there  standing,  in  a dark  and  draughty  pas- 
sage where  they  were  shouldered  by  other  customers 
passing  in  and  out,  they  always  appeared  to  drink  under 
an  enchanting  delusion  that  they  were  in  the  bar  itself. 

For  the  rest,  both  the  tap  and  parlour  of  the  Six  Jolly 
Fellowship-Porters,  gave  upon  the  river,  and  had  red 
curtains  matching  the  noses  of  the  regular  customers, 
and  were  provided  with  comfortable  fireside  tin  utensils, 
like  models  of  sugar-loaf  hats,  made  in  that  shape  that 
they  might,  with  their  pointed  ends,  seek  out  for  them- 
selves glowing  nooks  in  the  depths  of  the  red  coals, 
VOL.  I.  5 


66 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


when  they  mulled  your  ale,  or  heated  for  you  those 
delectable  drinks,  Purl,  Flip,  and  Dog’s  Nose.  The  first 
of  these  humming  compounds  was  a speciality  of  the 
Porters,  which,  through  an  inscription  on  its  door-posts, 
gently  appealed  to  your  feelings  as  The  Early  Purl 
House.”  For  it  would  seem  that  Purl  must  always  be 
taken  early;  though  whether  for  any  more  distinctly 
stomachic  reason  than  that,  as  the  early  bird  catches 
the  worm,  so  the  early  Purl  catches  the  customer,  cannot 
be  here  resolved.  It  only  remains  to  add  that  in  the 
handle  of  the  flat  iron,  and  opposite  the  bar,  was  a very 
little  room  like  a three-cornered  hat,  into  which  no  direct 
ray  of  sun,  moon  or  star  ever  penetrated,  but  which 
was  superstitiously  regarded  as  a sanctuary  replete  with 
comfort  and  retirement  by  gaslight,  and  on  the  door  of 
which  was  therefore  painted  its  alluring  name:  Cosy. 

Miss  Potterson,  sole  proprietor  and  manager  of  the 
Fellowship-Porters,  reigned  sujjreme  on  her  throne,  the 
Bar,  and  a man  must  have  drunk  himself  mad  drunk 
indeed  if  he  thought  he  could  contest  a point  with  her. 
Being  known  on  her  own  authority  as  Miss  Abbey  Pot- 
terson, some  waterside  heads,  which  (like  the  water) 
were  none  of  the  clearest,  harboured  rnuddled  notions 
that,  because  of  her  dignity  and  firmness,  she  was 
named  after,  or  in  some  sort  related  to,  the  Abbey  at 
Westminster.  But  Abbey  was  only  short  for  Abigail, 
by  which  name  Miss  Potterson  had  been  christened  at 
Limehouse  Church,  some  sixty  and  odd  years  before. 

''Now,  you  mind,  you  Riderhood,”  said  Miss  Abbey 
Potterson,  with  emphatic  forefinger  over  the  half-door, 
"the  Fellov/ships  don’t  want  you  at  all,  and  would 
rather  by  far  have  your  room  than  your  company;  but 
if  you  were  as  welcome  here  as  you  are  not,  you  shouldn’t 
even  then  have  another  drop  of  drink  here  this  night, 
after  this  present  pint  of  beer.  So  make  the  most  of  it.” 

"But  you  know.  Miss  Potterson,”  this  was  suggested 
very  meekly  though,  "if  I behave  myself,  you  can’t 
help  serving  me,  miss.” 

" Can't  I!”  said  Abbey,  with  infinite  expression. 

"No,  Miss  Potterson;  because,  you  see,  the  law ” 

"1  am  the  law  here,  my  man,”  returned  Miss  Abbey, 
"and  I’ll  soon  convince  you  of  that,  if  vou  doubt  it  at 

CjJlI. 

“ I never  said  I did  doubt  it  at  all,  Miss  Abbey,” 


CUT  ADRIFT. 


67 


So  much  the  better  for  you.” 

Abbey  the  supreme  threw  the  customer’s  halfpence 
into  the  till,  and,  seating  herself  in  her  fireside-chair, 
resumed  the  newspaper  she  had  been  reading.  She 
was  a tall,  upright,  well  - favoured  woman,  though 
severe  of  countenance,  and  had  more  of  the  air  of  a 
schoolmistress  than  mistress  of  the  Six  Jolly  Fellow- 
ship-Porters. The  man  on  the  other  side  of  the  half- 
door was  a waterside-man  with  a squinting  leer,  and  he 
eyed  her  as  if  he  were  one  of  her  pupils  in  disgrace. 

You’re  cruel  hard  upon  me.  Miss  Potterson.” 

Miss  Potterson  read  her  newspaper  with  contracted 
brows,  and  took  no  notice  until  he  whispered: 

^^Miss  Potterson  ! Ma’am  ! Might  I have  half  a word 
with  you  ? ” 

Deigning  then  to  turn  her  eyes  sideways  towards  the 
suppliant.  Miss  Potterson  beheld  him  knuckling  his  low 
forehead,  and  ducking  at  her  with  his  head,  as  if  he 
were  asking  leave  to  fling  himself  head  foremost  over 
the  half-door  and  alight  on  his  feet  in  the  bar. 

‘^Well  ? ” said  Miss  Potterson,  with  a manner  as  short  as 
she  herself  was  long,  say  your  half  word.  Bring  it  out.” 

'^Miss  Potterson!  Ma’am!  Would  you  ’sxcuse  me 
taking  the  liberty  of  asking,  is  it  my  character  that  you 
take  objections  to  ?” 

Certainly,”  said  Miss  Potterson. 

^‘^Is  it  that  you’re  afraid  of 

‘^1  am  not  afraid  of  you,''  interposed  Miss  Potterson, 

if  you  mean  that.” 

But  I humbly  don’t  mean  that.  Miss  Abbey.” 

Then  what  do  you  mean  ?” 

'Wou  really  are  so  cruel  hard  upon  me!  What  I was 
going  to  make  inquiries  was  no  more  than,  might  you 
have  any  apprehensions — leastway  beliefs  or  suppositi- 
ons— that  the  company’s  property  mightn’t  be  altogether 
to  be  considered  safe,  if  I used  the  house  too  regular  ? ” 

What  do  you  want  to  know  for  ?” 

Well,  Miss  Abbey,  respectfully  meaning  no  offence 
to  you,  it  would  be  some  satisfaction  to  a man’s  mind, 
to  understand  why  the  Fellowship-Porters  is  not  to  be 
free  to  such  as  me,  and  is  to  be  free  to  such  as  Gaffer.” 

The  face  of  the  hostess  darkened  with  some  shadow 
of  perplexity,  as.  she  replied:  Gaffer  has  never  been 
where  you  have  been.” 


G8 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Signifying  in  Quod,  Miss  ? Perhaps  not.  But  he  may 
have  merited  it.  He  may  be  suspected  of  far  worse 
then  ever  I was.” 

Who  suspects  him?” 

Many,  perhaps.  One,  beyond  all  doubts.  I do.” 

You  are  not  much,”  said  Miss  Abbey  Potterson, 
knitting  her  brows  again  with  disdain. 

But  I was  his  pardner.  Mind  you,  Miss  Abbey,  I 
was  his  pardner.  As  such  I know  more  of  the  ins  and 
outs  of  him  than  any  person  living  does.  Notice  this! 
I am  the  man  that  was  his  pardner,  and  I am  the  man 
that  suspects  him.” 

^^Then,”  suggested  Miss  Abbey,  though  with  a deeper 
shade  of  perplexity  than  before,  ^^you  criminate  yourself.” 

No,  I don’t.  Miss  Abbey.  For  how  does  it  stand?  It 
stands  this  way.  When  I was  his  pardner,  I couldn’t 
never  give  him  satisfaction.  Why  couldn’t  I never  give 
him  satisfaction?  Because  my  luck  was  bad;  because  I 
couldn’t  find  many  enough  of  ’em.  How  was  his  luck  ? 
Always  good.  Notice  this!  Always  good!  Ah!  There’s 
a many  games.  Miss  Abbey,  in  which  there’s  chance, 
but  there’s  a m.:"ny  others  in  which  there’s  skill,  too, 
mixed  along  with  it.” 

That  Gaffer  has  a skill  in  finding  what  he  finds, 
who  doubts,  man?”  asked  Miss  Abbey. 

A skill  in  purwiding  what  he  finds,  perhaps,”  said 
Riderhood,  shaking  his  evil  head. 

Miss  Abbey  knitted  her  brow  at  him,  as  he  darkly 
leered  at  her. 

If  you’re  out  upon  the  river  pretty  nigh  every  tide, 
and  if  you  want  to  find  a man  or  woman  in  the  river, 
you’ll  greatly  help  your  luck.  Miss  Abbey,  by  knocking 
a man  or  woman  on  the  head  aforehand  and  pitching 
’em  in.” 

Gracious  Lud!  ” was  the  involuntary  exclamation  of 
Miss  Potterson. 

Mind  you!”  returned  the  other,  stretching  forward 
over  the  half  door  to  throw  his  words  into  the  bar;  for 
his  voice  was  as  if  the  head  of  his  boat’s  mop  were 
down  in  his  throat;  I say  so.  Miss  Abbey!  And  mind 
you!  I’ll  follow  him  up.  Miss  Abbey!  And  mind  you! 
I’ll  bring  him  to  book  at  last,  if  it’s  twenty  year  hence, 
I will!  Who’s  he,  to  be  favoured  along  of  his  daughter? 
Ain’t  I got  a daughter  of  my  own!” 


CUT  ADRIFT. 


C9 


With  that  flourish,  and  seeming  to  have  talked  him- 
self rather  more  drunk  and  much  more  ferocious  than  he 
had  begun  by  being,  Mr.  Riderhood  took  up  his  pint  pot 
and  swaggered  off  to  the  tap-room. 

Gaffer  was  not  there,  but  a pretty  strong  muster  of 
Miss  Abbey’s  pupils  were,  who  exhibited,  when  occasion 
required,  the  greatest  docility.  On  the  clock’s  striking 
ten,  and  Miss  Abbey’s  appearing  at  the  door,  and  ad- 
dressing a certain  person  in  a faded  scarlet  jacket,  with 
'^George  Jones,  your  time’s  up!  I told  your  wife  you 
should  be  punctual,”  Jones  submissively  rose,  gave  the 
company  good-night,  and  retired.  At  half -past  ten, 
on  Miss  Abbey’s  looking  in  again,  and  saying,  ''  William 
Williams,  Bob  Glamour,  and  Jonathan,  you  are  all  due,” 
Williams,  Bob,  and  Jonathan  with  similar  meekness  took 
their  leave  and  evaporated.  Greater  wonder  than  these, 
when  a bottle-nosed  person  in  a glazed  hat  had  after 
some  considerable  hesitation  ordered  another  glass  of 
gin  and  water  of  the  ’attendant  pot-boy,  and  when  Miss 
Abbey,  instead  of  sending  it,  appeared  in  person,  saying. 

Captain  Joey,  you  have  had  as  much  as  will  do  you 
good,”  not  only  did  the  Captain  feebly  rub  his  knees 
and  contemplate  the  fire  without  offering  a word  of  pro- 
test, but  the  rest  of  the  company  murmured,  Ay,  ay, 
Captain!  Miss  Abbey’s  right;  you  be  guided  by  Miss 
Abbey,  Captain.”  Nor,  was  Miss  Abbey’s  vigilance  in 
anywise  abated  by  this  submission,  but  rather  sharp- 
ened; for,  looking  round  on  the  deferential  faces  of  her 
school,  and  descrying  two  other  young  persons  in  need 
of  admonition,  she  thus  bestowed  it:  ''Tom  Tootle,  it’s 
time  for  a young  fellow  who’s  going  to  be  married  next 
month,  to  be  at  home  and  asleep.  And  you  needn’t 
nudge  him,  Mr.  Jack  Mullins,  for  I know  your  work 
begins  early  to-morrow,  and  I say  the  same  to  you.  So 
come!  Good-night,  like  good  lads!”  Upon  which,  the 
blushing  Tootle  looked  to  Mullins,  and  the  blushing 
Mullins  looked  to  Tootle,  on  the  question  who  should 
rise  first,  and  finally  both  rose  together  and  went  out  on 
the  broad  grin,  followed  by  Miss  Abbey;  in  whose  pres- 
ence the  company  did  not  take  the  liberty  of  grinning 
likewise. 

In  such  an  establishment,  the  white-aproned  pot-boy 
with  his  shirt-sleeves  arranged  in  a tight  roll  on  each 
bare  shoulder,  was  a mere  hint  of  the  possibility  of 


70 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND.* 


physical  force,  thrown  out  as  a matter  of  state  and  form. 
Exactly  at  the  closing  hour,  all  the  guests  who  were 
left,  filed  out  in  the  best  order:  Miss  Abbey  standing  at 
the  half  door  of  the  bar,  to  hold  a ceremony  of  review 
and  dismissal.  All  wished  Miss  Abbey  good-night,  and 
Miss  Abbey  wished  good-night  to  all,  except  Riderhood. 
The  sapient  pot-boy,  looking  on  officially,  then  had  the 
conviction  borne  in  upon  his  soul,  that  the  man  was 
evermore  outcast  and  excommunicate  from  the  Six  Jolly 
Fellowship-Porters. 

‘‘You  Bob  Glibbery,’’  said  Miss  Abbey  to  this  pot- 
boy, '^run  round  to  HexanTs  and  tell  his  daughter 
Lizzie  that  I want  to  speak  to  her.” 

With  exemplary  swiftness  Bob  Glibbery  departed, 
and  returned.  Lizzie,  following  him,  arrived  as  one  of 
the  two  female  domestics  of  the  Fellowship-Porters 
arranged  on  the  snug  little  table  by  ffie  bar  fire  Miss 
Potterson’s  supper  of  hot  sausages  and  mashed  potatoes. 

^^Come  in  and  sit  ye  down,  girl,”  said  Miss  Abbey. 

Can  you  eat  a bit  ? ” 

''No  thank  you.  Miss.  I have  had  my  supper.” 

"I  ba^m  had  mine  to,  I think,”  said  Miss  Abbey, 
pushing  away  the  untasted  dish,  "and  more  than 
enough  of  it.  I am  put  out,  Lizzie.” 

" I am  very  sorry  for  it.  Miss.” 

"Then  why,  in  the  name  of  Goodness,”  quoth  Miss 
Abbey,  sharply,  " do  you  do  it  ?” 

"J  do  it.  Miss.” 

"There,  there.  Don’t  look  astonished.  I ought  to 
have  begun  with  a word  of  explanation,  but  it’s  my 
way  to  make  short  cuts  at  things.  I always  was  a 
pepperer.  You  Bob  Glibbery  there,  put  the  chain  upon 
the  door  and  get  ye  down  to  your  supper.” 

With  an  alacrity  that  seemed  no  less  referable  to  the 
peppery  fact  than  to  the  supper  fact.  Bob  obeyed,  and 
his  boots  were  heard  descending  towards  the  bed  of  the 
river. 

"Lizzie  Hexam,  Lizzie  Hexam,”  then  began  Miss 
Potterson,  " how  often  have  I held  out  to  you  the  oppor- 
tunity of  getting  clear  of  your  farther,  and  doing  well?” 

"Very  often.  Miss.” 

" Very  often  ? Yes  ! And  I might  as  well  have  spoken 
to  the  iron  funnel  of  the  strongest  sea-going  steamer 
that  passes  the  Fellowship-Porters.” 


CUT  ADRIFT. 


71 


''  No,  Miss,’’  Lizzie  pleaded  ; ''because  that  would  not 
be  thankful,  and  I am.” 

" I vow  and  declare  I am  half  ashamed  of  myself  for 
taking  such  an  interest  in  you,”  said  Miss  Abbey,  pet- 
tishly, " for  I don’t  believe  I should  do  it  if  you  were  not 
good  looking.  Why  ain’t  you  ugly  ? ” 

Lizzie  merely  answered  this  difficult  question  with  an 
apologetic  glance. 

"However,  you  ain’t,”  resumed  Miss  Potterson,  "so 
it’s  no  use  going  into  that.  I must  take  you  as  I find 
you.  Which  indeed  is  what  I’ve  done.  And  you  mean 
to  say  you  are  still  obstinate.” 

"Not  obstinate.  Miss,  I hope.” 

" Firm  (I  suppose  you  call  it)  then  ?” 

"Yes,  Miss.  Fixed  like.” 

"Never  was  an  obstinate  person  yet,  who  would  own 
to  the  word!”  remarked  Miss  Potterson,  rubbing  her 
vexed  nose;  "I’m  sure  I would,  if  I was  obstinate; 
but  I am  ^a  pepperer,  which  is  different.  Lizzie  Hexam, 
Lizzie  Hexam,  think  again.  Do  you  know  the  worst 
of  your  father  ? ” 

" Do  I know  the  worst  of  father!  ” she  repeated,  open- 
ing her  eyes. 

"Do  you  know  the  suspicions  to  which  your  father 
makes  himself  liable  ? Do  you  know  the  suspicions 
that  are  actually  about,  against  him  ? ” 

The  consciousness  of  what  he  habitually  did,  oppres- 
sed the  girl  heavily,  and  she  slowly  cast  down  her  eyes. 

" Say,  Lizzie.  Do  you  know  ?”  urged  Miss  Abbey. 

"Please  to  tell  me  what  the  suspicions  are.  Miss  — ” 
she  asked  after  a silence,  with  her  eyes  upon  the 
ground. 

" It’s  not  an  easy  thing  to  tell  a daughter,  but  it  must 
be  told.  It  is  thought  by  some,  then,  that  your  father 
helps  to  their  death  a few  of  those  that  he  finds  dead.” 

The  relief  of  hearing  what  she  felt  sure  was  a false 
suspicion,  in  place  of  the  expected  real  and  true  one,  so 
lightened  Lizzie’s  breast  for  the  moment,  that  Miss 
Abbey  was  amazed  at  her  demeanour.  She  raised  her 
eyes  quickly,  shook  her  head,  and,  in  a kind  of  triumph, 
almost  laughed. 

" They  little  know  father  who  talk  like  that!  ” 

("She  takes  it,”  thought  Miss  Abbey,  "very  quietly. 
She  takes  it  with  extraordinary  quietness ! 


u 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


And  perhaps/’  said  Lizzie,  as  a recollection  flashed 
upon  her,  ''it  is  some  one  who  has  a grudge  against 
father ; some  one  who  has  threatened  father ! Is  it 
Riderhood,  miss  ? ” 

" Well ; yes,  it  is.” 

"Yes!  He  was  father’s  partner,  and  father  broke 
with  him,  and  now  he  revenges  himself.  Father  broke 
with  him  vrhen  I was  by,  and  he  was  very  angry  at  it. 
And  besides.  Miss  Abbey  ! — Will  you  never,  without 
strong  reason,  let  pass  your  lips  v/hat  I am  going  to 
say  ? ” 

She  bent  forward  to  say  it  in  a whisper. 

"I  promise,”  said  Miss  Abbey. 

" It  was  on  the  night  when  the  Harmon  murder  was 
found  out,  through  father,  just  above  bridge.  And  just 
below  bridge,  as  we  were  sculling  home,  Riderhood 
crept  out  of  the  dark  in  his  boat.  And  many  and  many 
times  afterwards,  when  such  great  pains  were  taken  to 
come  to  the  bottom  of  the  crime,  and  it  never  could  be 
come  near,  I thought  in  my  own  thoughts,  could  Rider- 
hood himself  have  done  the  murder,  and  did  he  pur- 
posely let  father  find  the  body  ? It  seemed  a’most 
wicked  and  cruel  to  so  much  as  think  such  a thing  ; but 
now  that  he  tries  to  throw  it  upon  father,  I go  back  to 
it  as  if  it  was  a truth.  Can  it  be  a truth,  that  was  put 
into  mind  by  the  dead  ? ” 

She  asked  this  question,  rather  of  the  fire  than  of  the 
hostess  of  the  Fellowship-Porters,  and  looked  round  the 
little  bar  with  troubled  eyes. 

But  Miss  Potterson,  as  a ready  schoolmxistress  accus- 
tomed to  bring  her  pupils  to  book,  set  the  matter  in  a 
light  that  was  essentially  of  this  world. 

"You  poor  deluded  girl,”  she  said,  "don’t  you  see 
that  you  can’t  open  your  mind  to  particular  suspicions 
of  one  of  the  two,  without  opening  your  mind  to  general 
suspicions  of  the  other  ? They  had  worked  together. 
Their  goings-on  had  been  going  on  for  some  time. 
Even  granting  that  it  was  as  you  have  had  in  your 
thoughts,  what  the  two  had  done  together  would  come 
familiar  to  the  mind  of  one.” 

"You  don’t  know  father.  Miss,  when  you  talk  like 
that.  Indeed,  indeed,  you  don’t  know  father.” 

"Lizzie,  Lizzie,”  said  Miss  Potterson.  "Leave  him. 
You  needn’t  break  with  him  altogether,  but  leave  him. 


CUT  ADRIFT. 


Do  well  away  from  him ; not  because  of  what  I have 
told  you  to-night — well  pass  no  judgment  upon  that, 
and  well  hope  it  may  not  be — because  of  what  I have 
urged  on  you  before.  No  matter  whether  it’s  owing  to 
your  good  looks  or  not,  I like  you  and  I want  to  serve 
jmu.  Lizzie,  come  under  my  direction.  Don’t  fling 
yourself  away,  my  girl,  but  be  persuaded  into  being 
respectable  and  happy.” 

In  the  sound  good  feeling  and  good  sense  of  her 
entreaty.  Miss  Abbey  had  softened  into  a soothing  tone, 
and  had  even  drawn  her  arm  round  the  girl’s  waist. 
But  she  only  replied,  Thank  you,  thank  you  ! I can’t. 
I won’t.  I must  not  think  of  it.  The  harder  father  is 
borne  upon,  the  more  he  needs  me  to  lean  on.” 

And  then  Miss  Abbey,  who,  like  all  hard  people  when 
they  do  soften,  felt  that  there  was  considerable  com- 
pensation owing  to  her,  underwent  reaction  and  became 
frigid. 

I have  done  what  I can,”  she  said,  and  you  must 
go  your  way.  You  make  your  bed,  and  you  must  lie 
on  it.  But  tell  your  father  one  thing  : he  must  not 
come  here  any  more.” 

O,  Miss,  will  you  forbid  him  the  house  where  I know 
he’s  safe  ?” 

The  Fellowships,”  returned  Miss  Abbey,  has  itself  to 
look  to,  as  well  as  others.  It  has  been  hard  work  to 
establish  order  here,  and  make  the  Fellowships  what  it 
is,  and  it  is  daily  and  nightly  hard  work  to  keep  it  so. 
The  Fellowships  must  not  have  a taint  upon  it  that  may 
give  it  a bad  name.  I forbid  the  house  to  Riderhood, 
and  I forbid  the  house  to  Gaffer.  I forbid  both,  equally. 
I And  from  Riderhood  and  you  together,  that  there  are 
suspicions  against  both  men,  and  I’m  not  going  to  take 
upon  myself  to  decide  betwixt  them.  They  are  both 
tarred  with  a dirty  brush,  and  I can’t  have  the  Fellow- 
ships tarred  with  the  same  brush.  That’s  all  / know.” 

Good-night,  Miss  !”  said  Lizzie  Hexam,  sorrowfully. 

‘^Ha! — Good-night!”  returned  Miss  Abbey  with  a 
shake  of  her  head. 

Believe  me.  Miss  Abbey,  I am  truly  grateful  all  the 
same.” 

can  believe  a good  deal,”  returned  the  stately 
Abbey,  so  I’ll  try  to  believe  that  too,  Lizzie.” 

No  supper  did  Miss  Potterson  take  that  night,  and  only 


74 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


half  her  usual  tumbler  of  hot  Port  Negus.  And  the 
female  domestics — two  robust  sisters,  with  staring  black 
eyes,  shining  flat  red  faces,  blunt  noses,  and  strong  black 
curls  like  dolls — interchanged  the  sentiment  that  Missis 
had  had  her  hair  combed  the  wrong  way  by  somebody. 
And  the  pot-boy  afterwards  remarked,  that  he  hadn’t 
been  '^so  rattled  to  bed,”  since  his  mother  had  syste- 
matically accelerated  his  retirement  to  rest  with  a poker. 

The  chaining  of  the  door  behind  her,  as  she  went  forth, 
disenchanted  Lizzie  Hexam  of  that  first  relief  she  had 
felt.  The  night  was  black  and  shrill,  the  river-side 
wilderness  was  melancholy,  and  there  was  a sound  of 
casting-out,  in  the  rattling  of  the  iron-links,  and  the 
grating  of  the  bolts  and  staples  under  Miss  Abbey’s 
hand.  As  she  came  beneath  the  lowering  sky,  a sense 
of  being  involved  in  a murky  shade  of  Murder  dropped 
upon  her;  and,  as  the  tidal  swell  of  the  river  broke  at 
her  feet  without  her  seeing  how  it  gathered,  so  her 
thoughts  startled  her  by  rushing  out  of  an  unseen  void 
and  striking  at  her  heart. 

Of  her  father’s  being  groundlessly  suspected,  she  felt 
sure.  Sure.  Sure.  And  yet,  repeat  the  word  inwardly 
as  often  as  she  would,  the  attempt  to  reason  out  and 
prove  that  she  was  sure,  always  came  after  it  and  failed. 
Riderhood  had  done  the  deed,  and  entrapped  her  father. 
Riderhood  had  not  done  the  deed,  but  had  resolved  in 
his  malice  to  turn  against  her  father  the  appearances 
that  were  ready  to  his  hand  to  distort.  Equally  and 
swiftly  upon  either  putting  of  the  case,  followed  the 
frightful  possibility  that  her  father,  being  innocent,  yet 
might  come  to  be  believed  guilty.  She  had  heard  of 
people  suffering  Death  for  bloodshed  of  which  they  were 
afterwards  proved  pure,  and  those  ill-fated  persons  were 
not,  first,  in  that  dangerous  wrong  in  which  her  father 
stood.  Then  at  the  best,  the  beginning  of  his  being  set 
apart,  whispered  against,  and  avoided,  was  a certain 
fact.  It  dated  from  that  very  night.  And  as  the  great 
black  river  with  its  dreary  shores  was  soon  lost  to  her 
view  in  the  gloom,  so  she  stood  on  the  river’s  brink  un- 
able to  see  into  the  vast  blank  misery  of  a life  suspected, 
and  fallen  away  from  by  good  and  bad,  but  knowing 
that  it  lay  there  dim  before  her,  stretching  away  to  the 
great  ocean.  Death. 

One  thing  only  was  clear  to  the  girl’s  mind.  Accus- 


CUT  ADRIFT. 


75 


tomed  from  her  very  babyhood  promptly  to  do  the  thing 
that  could  be  done — whether  to  keep  out  weather,  to 
ward  off  cold,  to  postpone  hunger,  or  what  not — she 
started  out  of  her  meditation,  and  ran  home. 

The  room  was  quiet,  and  the  lamp  burnt  on  the  table. 
In  the  bunk  in  the  corner  her  brother  lay  asleep.  She 
bent  over  him  softly,  kissed  him,  and  came  to  the  table. 

^^By  the  time  of  Miss  Abbey’s  closing,  and  by  the  run 
of  the  tide,  it  must  be  one.  Tide’s  running  up.  Farther 
at  Chiswick,  wouldn’t  think  of  coming  down,  till  after 
the  turn,  and  that’s  at  half  after  four.  I’ll  call  Charley 
at  six.  I shall  hear  the  church  clocks  strike,  as  I sit 
here.” 

, Vpi-y  quietly,  she  placed  a chair  before  the  scanty  fire 
and  sat  down  in  it,  drawing  her  shawl  about  her. 

Charley’s  hollow  down  by  the  flare  is  not  there  now. 

’ Poor  Charley!” 

The  clock  struck  two,  and  the  clock  struck  three, 
'and  the  clock  struck  four,  and  she  remained  there, 
with  a v^^oman’s  patience  and  her  own  purpose.  When 
the  morning  was  well  on  between  four  and  five, 
she  slipped  off  her  shoes  (that  her  going  about  might 
not  wake  Charley),  trimmed  the  Are  sparingly,  put 
water  on  to  boil,  and  set  the  table  for  breakfast. 
Then  she  went  up  the  ladder,  lamp  in  hand,  and 
came  down  again,  and  glided  about  and  about,  making 
a.  little  bundle.  Lastly,  from  her  pocket,  and  from  the 
chimney-piece,  and  from  an  inverted  basin  on  the  highest 
shelf,  she  brought  halfpence,  a few  sixpences,  fewer 
shillings,  and  fell  to  laboriously  and  noiselessly  count- 
ing them,  and  setting  aside  one  little  heap.  She  was 
still  so  engaged,  when  she  was  startled  by: 

Hal-loa!”  From  her  brother,  sitting  up  in  bed. 

^ Won  made  me  jump,  Charley.” 

Jump!  Didn’t  you  make  me  jump,  when  I opened 
my  eyes  a moment  ago,  and  saw  you  sitting  there  like 
the  ghost  of  a girl -miser,  in  the  dead  of  the  night?” 

''  It’s  not  the  dead  of  the  night,  Charley.  It’s  nigh 
six  in  the  morning.” 

''  Is  it,  though?  But  what  are  you  up  to,  Liz?” 

Still  telling  your  fortune,  Charley.” 

''  It  seems  to  be  a precious  small  one,  if  that’s  it,”  said 
the  boy.  ^^What  are  you  putting  that  little  pile  of 
money  by  itself  for?” 


76 


OUE  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


For  you,  Charley.” 

What  do  you  mean?” 

Get  out  of  bed,  Charley,  and  get  washed  and  dressed, 
and  then  Fll  tell  you.” 

Her  composed  manner,  and  her  low  voice,  always 
had  an  influence  over  him.  His  head  was  soon  in  a 
basin  of  water,  and  out  of  it  again,  and  staring  at  her 
through  a storm  of  towelling. 

''I  never,”  towelling  at  himself  as  if  he  were  his 
bitterest  enemy,  ^^saw  such  a girl  as  you  are.  What  is 
the  move,  Liz?” 

Are  you  almost  ready  for  breakfast,  Charley?” 

^Wou  can  pour  it  out.  Hal-loa!  I say?  And  a 
bundle?” 

‘'And  a bundle,  Charley.” 

“You  mean  it’s  for  me, too?” 

“Yes,  Charley;  I do  indeed.” 

More  serious  of  face,  and  more  slow  of  action,  than 
he  had  been,  the  boy  completed  his  dressing,  and  came 
and  sat  down  at  the  little  breakfast-table,  with  his  eyes 
amazedly  directed  to  her  face. 

“You  see,  Charley  dear,  I have  made  up  my  mind 
that  this  is  the  right  time  for  your  going  away  from  us. 
Over  and  above  all  the  blessed  change  of  bye-and-bye, 
you’ll  be  much  happier,  and  do  much  better,  even  so 
soon  as  next  month.  Even  so  soon  as  next  week.” 

“ How  do  you  know  I shall  ?” 

“ I don’t  quite  know  how,  Charley,  but  I do.”  In  spite 
of  her  unchanged  manner  of  speaking,  and  her  un- 
changed appearance  of  composure,  she  scarcely  trusted 
herself  to  look  at  him,  but  kept  her  eyes  employed  on 
the  cutting  and  buttering  of  his  bread,  and  on  the  mix- 
ing of  his  tea,  and  other  such  little  preparations.  “You 
must  leave  father  to  me,  Charley — I will  do  what  I can 
with  him — but  you  must  go.” 

“You  don’t  stand  upon  ceremony,  I think,”  grumbled 
the  boy,  throwing  his  bread  and  butter  about,  in  an  ill- 
humour. 

She  made  no  answer. 

“I  tell  you  what,”  said  the  boy,  then,  bursting  out 
into  an  angry  whimpering,  “you’re  a selflsh  jade,  and 
you  think  there’s  not  enough  for  three  of  us,  and  you 
want  to  get  rid  of  me.” 

“If  you  believe  so,  Charley, — yes,  then  I believe  too 


CUT  ADRIFT. 


77 


that  I am  a selfish  jade,  and  that  I think  there’s  net 
enough  for  three  of  us,  and  that  I want  to  get  rid  of 
you.” 

It  was  only  when  the  boy  rushed  at  her,  and  threw 
his  arms  round  her  neck,  that  she  lost  her  self-restraint. 
But  she  lost  it  then,  and  wept  over  him. 

Don’t  cry.  don’t  cry!  I am  satisfied  to  go,  Liz;  I am 
satisfied  to  go.  I know  you  send  me  away  for  my 
good.” 

O,  Charley,  Charley,  Heaven  above  us  knows  Ido!” 
. Yes,  yes.  Don’t  mind  what  I said.  Don’t  remem- 
ber it.  Kiss  me.” 

After  a silence  she  loosed  him,  to  dry  her  eyes  and  re- 
gain her  strong  quiet  infiuence. 

^‘^Now  listen,  Charley  dear.  We  both  know  it  must 
be  done,  and  I alone  know  there  is  good  reason  for  its 
being  done  at  once.  Go  straight  to  the  school,  and  say 
that  you  and  I agreed  upon  it  that  we  can’t  overcome 
father’s  opposition — that  father  will  never  trouble  them, 
but  will  never  take  you  back.  You  are  a credit  to  the 
school,  and  you  will  be  a greater  credit  to  it  yet,  and 
they  will  help  you  to  get  a living.  Show  what  clothes 
you  have  brought,  and  what  money,  and  say  that  I will 
send  some  more  money.  If  I can  get  some  in  no  other 
way,  I will  ask  a little  help  of  those  two  gentlemen 
who  came  here  that  night.” 

I say!  ” cried  her  brother  quickly.  Don’t  you  have 
it  of  that  chap  that  took  hold  of  me  by  the  chin!  Don’t 
you  have  it  of  that  Wrayburn  one!” 

Perhaps  a slight  additional  tinge  of  red  flashed  up 
into  her  face  and  brow,  as  with  a nod  she  laid  a hand 
upon  his  lips  to  keep  him  silently  attentive. 

And  above  all  things  mind  this,  Charley!  Be  sure 
you  always  speak  well  of  father.  Be  sure  you  always 
give  father  his  full  due.  You  can’t  deny  that  because 
father  has  no  learning  himself  he  is  set  against  it  in 
you;  but  favour  nothing  else  against  him,  and  be  sure 
you  say — as  you  know — that  your  sister  is  devoted  to 
him.  And  if  you  should  ever  happen  to  hear  anything 
said  against  father  that  is  new  to  you,  it  will  not  be 
true.  Remember,  Charley!  It  will  not  be  true.” 

The  boy  looked  at  her  with  some  doubt  and  surprise, 
but  she  went  on  again  without  heeding  it. 

Above  all  things  remember!  It  will  not  be  true.  I 


78 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


have  nothing  more  to  say,  Charley  dear,  except,  be 
good,  and  get  learning,  and  only  think  of  some  things 
in  the  old  life  here,  as  if  you  had  dreamed  them  in  a 
dream  last  night.  Good-bye,  my  Darling!’’ 

Though  so  young,  she  infused  into  these  parting 
words  a love  that  was  far  more  like  a mother’s  than  a 
sister’s,  and  before  which  the  boy  was  quite  bowed 
down.  After  holding  her  to  his  breast  with  a passion- 
ate cry,  he  took  up  his  bundle  and  darted  out  at  the 
door,  with  an  arm  across  his  eyes. 

The  white  face  of  the  winter  day  came  sluggishly  on, 
veiled  in  a frosty  mist ; and  the  shadowy  ships  in  the 
river  slowly  changed  to  black  substances  ; and  the  sun, 
blood-red  on  the  eastern  marshes  behind  dark  masts 
and  yards,  seemed  filled  with  the  ruins  of  a forest  it  had 
set  on  fire.  Lizzie,  looking  for  her  father,  saw  him  com- 
ing, and  stood  upon  the  causeway  that  he  might  see  her. 

He  had  nothing  with  him  but  his  boat,  and  came  on 
apace.  A knot  of  those  amphibious  human-creatures 
w^ho  appear  to  have  some  mysterious  power  of  extract- 
ing a subsistence  out  of  tidal  water  by  looking  at  it,  were 
gathered  together  about  the  causeway.  As  her  father’s 
boat  grounded,  they  became  contemplative  of  the  mud 
and  dispersed  themselves.  She  saw  that  the  mute 
avoidance  had  begun. 

Gaffer  saw  it,  too,  in  so  far  as  that  he  was  moved, 
when  he  set  foot  on  shore,  to  stare  around  him.  But  he 
promptly  set  to  work  to  haul  up  his  boat,  and  make  her 
fast,  and  take  the  sculls  and  rudder  and  rope  out  of  her. 
Carrying  these  with  Lizzie’s  aid,  he  passed  up  to  his 
dwelling. 

^'Sit  close  to  the  fire,  father,  dear,  while  I cook  your 
breakfast.  It’s  all  ready  for  cooking,  and  only  been 
waiting  for  you.  You  must  be  frozen.” 

^^Well,  Lizzie,  I ain’t  of  aglow;  that’s  certain.  And 
my  hairds  seemed  nailed  through  to  the  sculls.  See 
how  dead  they  are  ! ” Something  suggestive  in  their 
colour,  and  perhaps  in  her  face,  struck  him  as  he  held 
them  up  ; he  turned  his  shoulder  and  held  them  down 
to  the  fire. 

^'You  were  not  out  in  the  perishing  night,  I hope, 
father  ? ” 

'^No,  my  dear.  Lay  aboard  a barge,  by  a blazing 
coal  fire. — Where’s  that  boy  ?” 


CUT  ADRIFT- 


70 


‘^There's  a drop  of  brandy  for  your  tea,  father,  if 
you’ll  put  it  in  while  I turn  this  bit  of  meat.  If  the 
river  was  to  get  frozen,  there  would  be  a deal  of  dis- 
tress ; wouldn’t  there,  father 

''  Ah  ! there’s  always  enough  of  that,  ” said  Gaffer, 
dropping  the  liquor  into  his  cup  from  a squat  black  bot- 
tle, and  dropping  it  slowly  that  it  might  seem  more  ; 

distress  is  for  ever  a-going  about,  like  sut  in  the  air — 
Ain’t  that  boy  up  yet  ” 

^‘  The  meat’s  ready  now,  father.  Eat  it  while  it’s  hot 
and  comfortable.  After  you  have  finished,  we’ll  turn 
round  to  the  fire  and  talk.” 

But  he  perceived  that  he  was  evaded,  and,  having 
thrown  a hasty  angry  glance  towards  the  bunk,  plucked 
at  a corner  of  her  apron  and  asked  : 

What’s  gone  with  that  boy 
“ Father  if  you’ll  begin  your  breakfast,  I’ll  sit  by  and 
tell  you.” 

He  looked  at  her,  stirred  his  tea  and  took  two  or  three 
gulps,  then  cut  at  his  piece  of  hot  steak  with  his  case- 
knife,  and  said,  eating : 

Now  then.  What’s  gone  with  that  boy  ?” 

Don’t  be  angry,  dear.  It  seems,  father,  that  he  has 
quite  a gift  of  learning.” 

Unnat’ral  young  beggar  ! ” said  the  parent,  shaking 
his  knife  in  the  air. 

— And  that  having  this  gift,  and  not  being  equally 
good  at  other  things,  he  has  made  shift  to  get  some 
schooling.”  « 

Unnat’ral  young  beggar!”  said  the  parent  again, 
with  his  former  action. 

— And  that  knowing  you  have  nothing  to  spare, 
father,  and  not  wishing  to  be  a burden  on  you,  he 
gradually  made  up  his  mind  to  go  seek  his  fortune  out 
of  learning.  He  went  away  this  morning,  father,  and 
he  cried  very  much  at  going,  and  he  hoped  you  would 
forgive  him.” 

Let  him  never  come  a nigh  me  to  ask  me  my  for- 
giveness,” said  the  father,  again  emphasizing  his  words 
with  the  knife.  ^^Let  him  never  come  within  sight  of 
my  eyes,  nor  yet  within  reach  of  my  arm.  His  own 
father  ain’t  good  enough  for  him.  He’s  disowned  his 
own  father.  His  own  father  therefore  disowns  him  for 
ever  and  ever,  as  a unnat’ral  young  beggar.” 


80 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


He  had  pushed  away  his  plate.  With  the  natural 
need  of  a strong  rough  man  in  anger,  to  do  something 
forcible,  he  now  clutched  his  knife  overhand,  and  struck 
downward  with  it  at  the  end  of  every  succeeding 
sentence.  As  he  would  have  struck  with  his  own 
clenched  fist  if  there  had  chanced  to  be  nothing  in  it. 

He’s  welcome  to  go.  He’s  more  welcome  to  go  than 
to  stay.  But  let  him  never  come  back.  Let  him  never 
put  his  head  inside  that  door.  And  let  you  never  speak 
a word  more  in  his  favour,  or  you’ll  disown  your  own 
father,  likewise,  and  what  your  father  says  of  him  he’ll 
have  to  come  to  say  of  you.  Now  I see  why  them  men 
yonder  held  aloof  from  me.  They  says  to  one  another, 
^ Here  comes  the  man  as  ain’t  good  enough  for  his  own 
son  ! ’ Lizzie ! ” 

But  she  stopped  him  with  a cry.  Looking  at  her  he 
saw  her,  with  a face  quite  strange  to  him,  shrinking 
back  against  the  wall,  with  her  hands  before  her  eyes. 

''  Father,  don’t ! I can’t  bear  to  see  you  striking  with 
it.  Put  it  down  ! ” 

He  looked  at  the  knife  ; but  in  his  astonishment  still 
held  it. 

Father,  it’s  too  horrible.  O put  it  down,  put  it 
down  ! ” 

Confounded  by  her  appearance  and  exclamation,  he 
tossed  it  away,  and  stood  up  with  his  open  hands  held 
out  before  him. 

'^What’s  come  to  you,  Liz?  Can  you  think  I would 
strike  at  you  with  a knife  ? ” 

No,  father,  no  ; you  would  never  hurt  me.” 

''  What  should  I hurt  ?” 

^^Nothing,  dear  father.  On  my  knees,  lam  certain, 
in  my  heart  and  soul  I am  certain,  nothing  ! But  it  was 
too  dreadful  to  bear  ; for  it  looked ” her  hands  cover- 
ing her  face  again,  O it  looked ” 

What  did  it  look  like  ? ” 

The  recollection  of  his  murderous  figure,  combining 
with  her  trial  of  last  night,  and  her  trial  of  the  morn- 
ing, caused  her  to  drop  at  his  feet,  without  having  an- 
swered. 

He  had  never  seen  her  so  before.  He  raised  her  with 
the  utmost  tenderness,  calling  her  the  best  of  daughters, 
and  '^my  poor  pretty  creetur,”  and  laid  her  head  upon 
his  knee,  and  tried  to  restore  her.  But  failing,  he  laid 


CUT  ADRIFT. 


81 


her  head  gently  clown  again,  got  a pillow  and  placed  it 
under  her  dark  hair,  and  sought  on  the  table  for  a 
spoonful  of  brandy.  There  being  none  left,  he  hur- 
riedly caught  up  the  empty  bottle,  and  ran  out  at  the 
door. 

He  returned  as  hurriedly  as  he  had  gone,  with  the 
bottle  still  empty.  He  kneeled  down  by  her,  took  her 
head  on  his  arm,  and  moistened  her  lips  with  a little 
water  into  which  he  dipped  his  fingers  : saying,  fiercely, 
as  he  looked  around,  now  over  this  shoulder,  now  over 
that  : 

Have  we  got  a pest  in  the  house  ? Is  there  summ’at 
deadly  sticking  to  my  clothes?  WhaFs  let  loose  upon 
us  ? Who  loosed  it  ? ’’ 


CHAPTER  VH. 

MR.  WEGG  LOOKS  AFTER  HIMSELF. 

Silas  WEGG,  being  on  his  road  to  the  Roman 
Empire,  approaches  it  by  way  of  Clerkenwell.  The 
time  is  early  in  the  evening ; the  weather  moist  and 
raw.  Mr.  Wegg  finds  leisure  to  make  a little  circuit, 
by  reason  that  he  folds  his  screen  early,  now  that  he 
combines  another  source  of  income  with  it,  and  also 
that  he  feels  it  due  to  himself  to  be  anxiously  expected 
at  the  Bower.  Boffin  will  get  all  the  eagerer  for 
waiting  a bit,’’  says  Silas,  screwing  up,  as  he  stumps 
along,  first  his  right  eye,  and  then  his  left.  Which  is 
something  superfluous  in  him,  for  Nature  has  already 
screwed  both  pretty  tight. 

^^If  I get  on  with  him  as  I expect  to  get  on,”  Silas 
pursues,  stumping  and  meditating,  it  wouldn’t  become 
me  to  leave  it  here.  It  wouldn’t  be  respectable.”  Ani- 
mated by  this  reflection,  he  stumps  faster,  and  looks  a 
long  way  before  him,  as  a man  with  an  ambitious  pro- 
ject in  abeyanc  . often  will  do. 

Aware  of  a working- jeweller  population  taking  sanc- 
tuary about  the  church  in  Clerkenwell,  Mr.  Wegg  is 
conscious  of  an  inteiest  in,  and  a respect  for,  the  neigh- 
bourhood. But  his  sensations  in  this  regard  halt  as  to 
their  strict  morality,  as  he  halts  in  his  gait ; for  they 
VOL.  I.  6 


82 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


suggest  the  delights  of  a coat  of  invisibility  in  which  to 
walk  off  safely  with  the  precious  stones  and  watch- 
cases,  but  stop  short  of  any  compunction  for  the  people 
•who  would  lose  the  same. 

Not,  however,  towards  the  shops’’ where  cunning 
artificers  work  in  pearls  and  diamonds  and  gold  and 
silver,  making  their  hands  so  rich,  that  the  enriched 
water  in  which  they  wash  is  bought  for  the  refiners  ; — 
not  towards  these  does  Mr.  Wegg  stump,  but  towards 
the  poorer  shops  of  small  retail  traders  in  commodities 
to  eat  and  drink  and  keep  folks  warm,  and  of  Italian 
frame  makers,  and  of  barbers,  and  of  brokers,  and  of 
dealers  in  dogs  and  singing-birds.  From  these,  in  a 
narrow  and  dirty  street  devoted  to  such  callings,  Mr. 
Wegg  selects  one  dark  shop- window  with  a tallow  can- 
dle dimly  burning  in  it,  surrounded  by  a muddle  of 
objects  vaguely  resembling  pieces  of  leather  and  dry 
stick,  but  among  which  nothing  is  resolvable  into  any- 
thing distinct,  save  the  candle  itself  in  it’s  old  tin  can- 
dlestick, and  two  preserved  frogs  fighting  a small-sword 
duel.  Stumping  with  fresh  vigour,  he  goes . in  at  the 
dark  greasy  entry,  pushes  a little  greasy  dark  reluctant 
side-door,  and  follows  the  door  into  the  little  dark  greasy 
shop.  It  is  so  dark  that  nothing  can  be  made  out  in  it, 
over  a little  counter,  but  another  tallow  candle  in 
another  old  tin  candlestick,  close  to  the  face  of  a man 
stooping  low  in  a chair. 

Mr.  Wegg  nods  to  the  face,  Good  evening.” 

The  face  looking  up  is  a sallow  face  with  weak  eyes, 
surmounted  by  a tangle  of  reddish-dusty  hair.  The 
owner  of  the  face  has  no  cravat  on,  and  has  opened  his 
tumbled  shirt-collar  to  work  with  the  more  ease.  For 
the  same  reason  he  has  no  coat  on:  only  a loose  waist- 
coat over  his  yellow  linen.  His  eyes  are  like  the  over- 
tried eyes  of  an  engraver,  but  he  is  not  that;  his  expres- 
sion and  stoop  are  like  those  of  a shoemaker,  but  he  is 
not  that. 

Good  evening,  Mr.  Venus.  Don’t  you  remember?” 

With  slowly  dawning  remembrance,  Mr.  Venus  rises, 
and  holds  his  candle  over  the  little  counter,  and  holds 
it  down  towards  the  legs,  natural  and  artificial,  of  Mr. 
Wegg. 

“ To  be  sure!”  he  says,  then.  “ How  do  you  do?” 

“ Wegg,  you  know,”  that  gentleman  explains. 


MR.  WEGG  LOOKS  AFTER  HIMSELF. 


83 


Yes,  yes,’’  says  the  other.  Hospital  amputation?” 

Just  so,”  says  Mr.  Wegg. 

''Yes,  yes,”  quoth  Venus.  "How  do  you  do?”  Sit 
down  by  the  fire,  and  warm  your — your  other  one.” 

The  little  counter  being  so  short  a counter  that  it  leaves 
the  fireplace,  which  would  have  been  behind  it  if  it  had 
been  longer,  accessible,  Mr.  Wegg  sits  down  on  a box 
in  front  of  the  fire,  and  inhales  a warm  and  comfortable 
smell  which  is  not  the  smell  of  the  shop.  " For  that,” 
Mr.  Wegg  inwardly  decides,  as  he  takes  a corrective 
sniff  or  two,  "is  musty,  leathery,  feathery,  cellary, 
gluey,  gummy,  and,”  with  another  sniff,  "as  it  might 
be,  strong  of  old  pairs  of  bellows.” 

"My  tea  is  drawing,  and  my  muffin  is  on  the  hob, 
Mr.  W egg  ; will  you  partake  ? ” 

It  being  one  of  Mr.  Wegg’s  guiding  rules  in  life  al- 
ways to  partake,  he  says  he  will.  But  the  little  shop  i^ 
so  excessively  dark,  is  stuck  so  full  of  black  shelves 
and  brackets  and  nooks  and  corners,  that  he  sees  Mr. 
Venus’s  cup  and  saucer  only  because  it  is  close  under 
the  candle,  and  does  not  see  from  what  mysterious  re- 
cess Mr.  Venus  produces  another  for  himself,  until  it  is 
under  his  nose.  Concurrently,  Wegg  perceives  a pretty 
little  dead  bird  lying  on  the  counter,  with  its  head 
drooping  on  one  side  against  the  rim  of  Mr.  Venus’s 
saucer,  and  a long  stiff  wire  piercing  its  breast.  As  if 
it  were  Cock  Robin,  the  hero  of  the  ballad,  and  Mr. 
Venus  were  the  sparrow  with  his  bow  and  arrow,  and 
Mr.  Wegg  were  the  fly  with  his  little  eye. 

Mr.  Venus  dives  and  produces  another  muffin,  yet 
untoasted ; taking  the  arrow  out  of  the  breast  of  Cock 
Robin,  he  proceeds  to  toast  it  on  the  end  of  that  cruel 
instrument.  When  it  is  brown,  he  dives  again  and  pro- 
duces butter,  with  which  he  completes  his  work. 

Mr.  Wegg,  as  an  artful  man  who  is  sure  of  his  supper 
bye-and-bye,  presses  muffin  on  his  host  to  soothe  him 
into  a compliant  state  of  mind,  or,  as  one  might  say,  to 
grease  his  works.  As  the  muffins  disappear,  little  by  lit- 
tle, the  black  shelves  and  nooks  and  corners  begin  to 
appear,  and  Mr.  Wegg  gradually  acquires  an  imperfect 
notion  that  over  against  him  on  the  chimney-piece  is  a 
Hindoo  baby  in  a bottle,  curved  up  with  his  big  head 
tucked  under  him,  as  though  he  would  instantly  throw 
a summersault  if  the  bottle  were  lo.rge  enough. 


84 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


When  he  deems  Mr.  Venus’s  wheels  sufficiently  lubri- 
cated, Mr.  Wegg  approaches  his  object  by  asking,  as 
he  lightly  taps  his  hands  together,  to  express  an  unde- 
signing frame  of  mind : 

And  how  have  I been  going  on,  this  long  time,  Mr. 
Venus 

^Wery  bad,”  says  Mr.  Venus  uncompromisingly. 

What  ? Am  I still  at  home  ? ” asks  Wegg  with  an 
air  of  surprise. 

Always  at  home.” 

This  would  seem  to  be  secretly  agreeable  to  Wegg, 
but  he  veils  his  feelings,  and  observes,  Strange.  To 
what  do  you  attribute  it?” 

^‘1  don’t  know,”  replies  Venus,  who  is  a haggard  mel- 
ancholy man,  speaking  in  a weak  voice  of  querulous 
complaint,  ‘^^to  what  to  attribute  it,  Mr.  Wegg.  I can’t 
work  you  into  a miscellaneous  one,  nohow.  Do  what  I 
will,  you  can’t  be  got  to  fit.  Anybody  with  a passable 
knowledge  would  pick  you  out  at  a look,  and  say, — ^ No 
go ! Don’t  match ! ’ ” 

Well,  but  hang  it,  Mr.  Venus,”  Wegg  expostulates 
with  some  little  irritation,  ^^that  can’t  be  personal  and 
peculiar  in  me.  It  must  often  happen  with  miscellane- 
ous ones.” 

^^With  ribs  (I  grant  you)  always.  But  none  else. 
When  I prepare  a miscellaneous  one,  I know  before- 
hand that  I can’t  keep  to  nature,  and  be  miscellaneous 
with  ribs,  because  every  man  has  his  own  ribs,  and  no 
other  man’s  will  go  with  them;  but  elseways  I can  be 
miscellaneous.  I have  just  sent  home  a Beauty — a per- 
fect Beauty — to  a school  of  art.  One  leg  Belgian,  one 
leg  English,  and  the  pickings  of  eight  other  people  in  it. 
Talk  of  not  being  qualified  to  be  miscellaneous!  By 
rights  you  ought  to  be,  Mr.  Wegg!” 

Silas  looks  as  hard  at  his  one  leg  as  he  can  in  the  dim 
light,  and  after  a pause  sulkily  opines  ‘^that  it  must  be 
the  fault  of  the  other  people.  Or  how  do  you  mean  t j 
say  it  comes  about?”  he  demands  impatiently. 

I don’t  know  how  it  comes  about.  Stand  upi  a mir- 
ute.  Hold  the  light.”  Mr.  Venus  takes  from  a corner 
by  his  chair,  the  bones  of  a leg  and  foot,  beautifully 
pure,  and  put  together  with  exquisite  neatness.  These 
he  compares  with  Mr.  Wegg’s  leg;  that  gentleman  look- 
ing on,  as  if  he  were  being  measured  for  a riding-boot. 


MR.  WEGG  LOOKS  AFTER  HIMSELF, 


85 


No,  I don’t  know  how  it  is,  but  so  it  is.  You  have  got 
a twist  in  that  bone,  to  the  best  of  my  belief.  I never 
saw  the  likes  of  you.” 

Mr.  Wegg  having  looked  distrustfully  at  his  own 
limb,  and  suspiciously  at  the  pattern  with  which  it  has 
been  compared,  makes  the  point: 

bet  a pound  that  ain’t  an  English  one!” 

An  easy  wager,  when  we  run  so  much  into  foreign! 
No,  it  belongs  to  that  French  gentleman.” 

As  he  nods  towards  a point  of  darkness  behind  Mr. 
Wegg,  the  latter,  with  a slight  start,  looks  round  for 

that  French  gentleman,”  whom  he  at  length  decries  to 
be  represented  (in  a workmanlike  manner)  by  his  ribs 
only,  standing  on  a shelf  in  another  corner,  like  a piece 
of  armour  or  a pair  of  stays. 

Oh!”  said  Mr.  Wegg,  with  a sort  of  sense  of  being 
introduced;  dare  say  you  were  all  right  enough  in 
your  own  country,  but  I hope  no  objections  will  be  taken 
to  my  saying,  that  the  Frenchman  was  never  yet  born 
as  I should  wish  to  match.” 

At  this  moment  the  greasy  door  is  violently  pushed 
inward,  and  a boy  follows  it,  who  says,  after  having  let 
it  slam: 

Come  for  the  stuffed  canary.” 

It’s  three  and  ninepence,”  returns  Venus;  have  you 
got  the  money?” 

The  boy  produces  four  shillings.  Mr.  Venus,  always 
in  exceedingly  low  spirits  and  making  vx^himpering 
sounds,  peers  about  for  the  stuffed  canary.  On  his  tak- 
ing the  candle  to  assist  his  search,  Mr.  Wegg  observes 
that  he  has  a convenient  little  shelf  near  his  knees,  ex- 
clusively appropriated  to  skeleton  hands,  which  have 
very  much  the  appearance  of  wanting  to  lay  hold  of 
him.  From  these  Mr.  Venus  rescues  the  canary  in  a 
glass  case,  and  shows  it  to  the  boy. 

There!  ” he  whimpers.  There’s  animation!  On  a 
tv^ig,  making  up  his  mind  to  hop!  Take  care  of  him; 
he’s  a lovely  specimen. — And  three  is  four.” 

The  boy  gathers  up  his  change  and  has  pulled  the 
door  open  by  a leather  strap  nailed  to  it  for  the  purpose, 
when  Venus  cries  out: 

^^Stop  him!  Come  back,  you  young  villain!  You’ve 
got  a tooth  among  them  halfpence.” 

How  was  I to  knovv^  I’d  got  it?  You  giv  it  me.  I 


86 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


don’t  want  none  of  your  teeth;  I’ve  got  enough  of  my 
own.”  So  the  boy  pipes  as  he  selects  it  from  his  change, 
and  throws  it  on  the  counter. 

Don’t  sauce  me,  in  the  wicious  pride  of  your  youth,” 
Mr.  Venus  retorts  pathetically.  ''Don’t  hit  me  because 
you  see  I’m  down.  I’m  low  enough  without  that.  It 
dropped  into  the  till,  I suppose.  They  drop  into  every- 
thing. There  was  two  in  the  coffee-pot  at  breakfast 
time.  Molars.” 

" Very  well,  then,”  argues  the  boy,  " what  do  you  call 
names  for?” 

To  which  Mr.  Venus  only  replies,  shaking  his  shock 
of  dusty  hair,  and  winking  his  weak  eyes,  " Don’t  sauce 
me,  in  the  wicious  pride  of  your  youth;  don’t  hit  me,  be- 
cause you  see  I’m  down.  You’ve  no  idea  how  small 
you’d  come  out,  if  I had  the  articulating  of  you.” 

This  consideration  seems  to  have  its  effect  on  the  boy, 
for  he  goes  out  grumbling. 

"Oh  dear  me,  dear  me  !”  sighs  Mr.  Venus,  heavily, 
snuffing  the  candle,  " the  world  that  appeared  so  flowery 
has  ceased  to  blow  ! You’re  casting  your  eye  round  the 
shop,  Mr.  Wegg.  Let  me  show  you  a light.  My  work- 
ing bench.  My  young  man’s  bench.  A Wice.  Tools. 
Bones,  warious.  Skulls,  warious.  Preserved  Indian 
baby.  African  ditto.  Bottled  preparations,  warious. 
Everything  within  reach  of  your  hand,  in  good  preser- 
vation. The  mouldy  ones  a-top.  What’s  in  those  ham- 
pers over  them  again,  I don’t  quite  remember.  Say, 
human  warious.  Cats.  Articulated  English  baby.  Dogs. 
Ducks.  Glass  eyes,  warious.  Mummied  bird.  Dried 
cuticle,  warious.  Oh,  dear  me ! That’s  the  general 
panoramic  view.” 

Having  so  held  and  waved  the  candle  as  that  all  these 
heterogeneous  objects  seemed  to  come  forward  obedient- 
ly when  they  were  named,  and  then  retire  again,  Mr. 
Venus  despondently  repeats,  " Oh  dear  me,  dear  me  I ” 
resumes  his  seat,  and  with  drooping  despondency  upon 
him,  falls  to  pouring  himself  out  more  tea 

"Where  am  I ?”  asks  Mr.  Wegg. 

"You’re  somewhere  in  the  back  shop  across  the  yard, 
sir;  and  speaking  quite  candidly,  I wish  I’d  never  bought 
you  of  the  Hospital  porter.” 

"Now,  look  here,  what  did  you  give  for  rue  ?” 

"Well,”  replies  Venus,  blowing  his  tea:  his  head  and 


MR.  WEGG  LOOKS  AFTER  HIMSELF, 


87 


face  peering  out  of  the  darkness,  over  the  smoke  of  it, 
as  if  he  were  modernizing  the  old  original  rise  in  his 
family:  ^^you  were  one  of  a warious  lot,  and  I don’t 
know.” 

Silas  puts  his  point  in  the  improved  form  of  What 
will  you  take  for  me  ? ” 

Well,”  replies  Venus,  still  blowing  his  tea,  ^T’mnot 
prepared,  at  a moment’s  notice,  to  tell  you,  Mr.  Wegg.” 

Come  ! According  to  your  own  account  I’m  not  worth 
much,”  Wegg  reasons  persuasively. 

'^ISTot  for  miscellaneous  working  in,  I grant  you,  Mr. 

Wegg;  but  you  might  turn  out  valuable  yet,  as  a ” 

here  Mr.  Venus  takes  a gulp  of  tea,  so  hot  that  it  makes 
him  choke,  and  sets  his  weak  eyes  watering;  as  a Mon- 
strosity, if  you’ll  excuse  me.” 

Repressing  an  indignant  look,  indicative  of  anything 
but  a disposition  to  excuse  him,  Silas  pursues  his  point. 

think  you  know  me,  Mr.  Venus,  and  I think  you 
know  I never  bargain.” 

Mr.  Venus  takes  gulps  of  hot  tea,  shutting  his  eyes 
at  every  gulp,  and  opening  them  again  in  a spasmodic 
manner  ; but  does  not  commit  himself  to  assent. 

I have  a prospect  of  getting  on  in  life  and  elevating 
myself  by  my  own  independent  exertions,”  says  Wegg, 
feelingly,  and  I shouldn’t  like — I tell  you  openly  I 
should  not  like — under  such  circumstances,  to  be  what 
I may  call  dispersed,  a part  of  me  here,  and  a part  of 
me  there,  but  should  wish  to  collect  myself  like  a gen- 
teel person.” 

'Ht’s  a prospect  at  present,  is  it,  Mr.  Wegg?  Then 
you  haven’t  got  the  money  for  a deal  about  you  ? 
Then  I’ll  tell  you  what  I’ll  do  with  you  ; I’ll  hold  you 
over.  I am  a man  of  my  word,  and  you  needn’t  be 
afraid  of  my  disposing  of  you.  I’ll  hold  you  over. 
That’s  a promise.  . Oh  dear  me,  dear  me!” 

Fain  to  accept  his  promise,  and  wishing  to  propitiate 
him,  Mr.  Wegg  looks  on  as  he  sighs  and  pours  himself 
out  more  tea,  and  then  says,  trying  to  get  a sympathetic 
tone  into  his  voice  : 

You  seem  very  low,  Mr.  Venus.  Is  business  bad?” 

Never  was  so  good.” 

Never  was  so  well  in.  Mr.  Wegg,  I’m  not  only  first 
in  the  trade,  but  I’m  the  trade.  You  may  go  and  buy  a 
skeleton  at  the  West  End  if  you  like,  and  pay  the  West 

.i  I 


88 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


End  price,  but  it’ll  be  my  putting  together.  IVe  as 
much  to  do  as  I can  possibly  do,  with  the  assistance  of 
my  young  man,  and  I take  a pride  and  a pleasure  in 
it.” 

Mr.  Venus  thus  delivers  himself,  his  right  hand  ex- 
tended, his  smoking  saucer  in  his  left  hand,  protesting 
as  though  he  were  going  to  burst  into  a flood  of  tears. 

‘^^That  ain’t  a state  of  things  to  make  you  low,  Mr. 
Venus.” 

Mr.  Wegg,  I know  it  ain’t.  Mr.  Wegg,  not  to  name 
myself  as  a workman  without  an  equal.  I’ve  gone  on  im- 
proving myself  in  my  knowledge  of  Anatomy,  till  both 
by  sight  and  by  name  I’m  perfect.  Mr.  Wegg,  if  you 
was  brought  here  loose  in  a bag  to  be  articulated,  I’d 
name  your  smallest  bones  blindfold  equally  with  your 
largest,  as  fast  as  I could,  pick  ’em  out,  and  I’d  sort  ’em 
all,  and  sort  your  wertebrae,  in  a manner  that  would 
equally  surprise  and  charm  you.” 

Well,”  remarks  Silas  (though  not  quite  so  readily  as 
last  time),  that  ain’t  a state  of  things  to  be  low  about. 
— Not  for  you  to  be  low  about,  leastways.” 

^'Mr.  Wegg,  I know  it  ain’t;  Mr.  Wegg,  I know  it 
ain’t.  But  it’s  the  heart  that  lowers  me,  it  is  the  heart ! 
Be  so  good  as  take  and  read  that  card  out  loud.” 

Silas  receives  one  from  his  hand,  which  Venus  takes 
from  a wonderful  litter  in  a drawer,  and  putting  on  his 
spectacles,  reads  : 

^ Mr.  Venus.’  ” 

''Yes.  Goon.” 

" ' Preserver  of  Animals  and  Birds,  ’ ” 

"Yes.  Go  on.” 

" ' Articulator  of  human  bones.’  ” 

"That’s  it,”  with  a groan.  "That’s  it!  Mr.  Wegg, 
I’m  thirty-two,  and  a bachelor.  Mr.  Wegg,  I love  her. 
Mr.  Wegg,  she  is  worthy  of  being  loved  by  a Potentate  ! ” 
Here  Silas  is  rather  alarmed  by  Mr.  Venus’s  springing 
to  his  feet  in  the  hurry  of  his  spirits,  and  haggardly 
confronting  him  with  his  hand  on  his  coat  collar ; but 
Mr.  Venus,  begging  pardon,  sits  down  again,  saying, 
with  the  calmness  of  despair. 

" She  objects  to  the  business.” 

" Does  she  know  the  profits  of  it  ?” 

" She  knows  the  profits  of  it,  but  she  don’t  appreciate 
the  art  of  it,  and  she  objects  to  it.  ' I do  not  wish,’  she 


MR.  WEGG  LOOKS  AFTER  HIMSELF. 


89 


writes  in  her  own  hand- writing,  ^to  regard  myself,  nor 
yet  to  be  regarded,  in  that  honey  light.’’’ 

Mr.  Venus  pours  himself  out  more  tea,  with  a look 
and  in  an  attitude  of  the  deepest  desolation. 

^‘  And  so  a man  climbs  to  the  top  of  the  tree,  Mr. 
Wegg,  only  to  see  that  there’s  no  look-out  when  he’s  up 
there  ! I sit  here  of  a night  surrounded  by  the  lovely 
trophies  of  my  art,  and  what  have  they  done  for  me  ? 
Ruined  me.  Brought  me  to  the  pass  of  being  informed 
that  she  does  not  wish  to  regard  herself,  nor  yet  to  be 
regarded,  in  that  boney  light ! ’ ” Having  repeated  the 
fatal  expressions,  Mr.  Venus  drinks  more  tea  by  gulps, 
and  offers  an  explanation  of  his  doing  so. 

It  lowers  me.  When  I’m  equally  lowered  all  over, 
lethargy  sets  in.  By  sticking  to  it  till  one  or  two  in  the 
morning,  I get  oblivion.  Don’t  let  me  detain  you,  Mr. 
Wegg.  I’m  not  company  for  any  one.” 

It  is  not  on  that  account,”  says  Silas,  rising,  but 
because  I’ve  got  an  appointment.  It’s  time  I was  at 
Harmon’s.” 

Eh?”  said  Mr.  Venus.  Harmon’s,  up  Battle  Bridge 
way.” 

Mr.  Wegg  admits  that  he  is  bound  for  that  port. 

'‘Yon  ought  to  be  in  a good  thing,  if  you’ve  worked 
yourself  in  there.  There’s  lots  of  money  going,  there.” 

To  think,”  says  Silas,  that  you  should  catch  it  up 
so  quick,  and  know  about  it.  Wonderful!” 

Not  at  all,* Mr.  Wegg.  The  old  gentleman  wanted 
to  know  the  nature  and  worth  of  everything  that  was 
found  in  the  dust;  and  many’s  the  bone,  and  feather, 
and  what  not,  that  he’s  brought  to  me.” 

'' Really,  now!” 

Yes.  (Oh  dear  me,  dear  me!)  And  he’s  buried 
quiet  in  this  neighbourhood,  you  know.  Over  yonder.” 

Mr.  Wegg  does  not  know,  but  he  makes  as  if  he  did, 
by  responsively  nodding  his  head.  He  also  follows  with 
his  eyes,  and  the  toss  of  Venus’s  head:  as  if  to  seek  a 
direction  to  over  yonder. 

I took  an  interest  in  that  discovery  in  the  river,” 
says  Venus.  (She  had’nt  written  her  cutting  refusal 
at  that  time.)  I’ve  got  up  there — never  mind,  though.” 

He  had  raised  the  candle  at  arm’s  length  towards  one 
of  the  dark  shelves,  and  Mr.  Wegg  had  turned  to  look^ 
when  he  broke  off, 


90 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


The  old  gentleman  was  well  known  all  round  here. 
There  used  to  be  stories  about  his  having  hidden  all 
kinds  of  property  in  those  dust  mounds.  I suppose  there 
was  nothing  in  ’em.  Probably  you  know,  Mr.  Wegg?” 

Nothing  in  ’em/’  says  Wegg,  who  has  never  heard 
a word  of  this  before. 

Don’t  let  me  detain  you.  Good  night!” 

The  unfortunate  Mr.  Venus  gives  him  a shake  of  the 
hand  with  a shake  of  his  own  head,  and  dropping  down  in 
his  chair,  proceeds  to  pour  himself  out  more  tea.  Mr. 
Wegg,  looking  back  over  his  shoulder  as  he  pulls  the 
door  open  by  the  strap,  notices  that  the  movement  so 
shakes  the  crazy  shop,  and  so  shakes  a momentary  flare 
out  of  the  candle,  as  that  the  babies — Hindoo,  African, 
and  British — the  'Giuman  warious,”  the  French  gentle- 
man, the  green  glass-eyed  cats,  the  dogs,  the  ducks,  and 
all  the  rest  of  the  collection,  show  for  an  instant  as  if  par- 
alytically  animated;  while  even  poor  little  Cock  Robin 
at  Mr.  Venus’s  elbow  turns  over  on  his  innocent  side. 
Next  moment,  Mr.  Wegg  is  stumping  under  the  gas- 
lights and  through  the  mud. 


CHAPTER  VIIL 

MR.  BOFFIN  IN  CONSULTATION. 

^V\T HOSOEVER  had  gone  out  of  Fleet  Street  into  the 
V V Temple  at  the  date  of  this  history,  and  had  wan- 
dered disconsolate  about  the  Temple  until  he  stumbled 
on  a dismal  churchyard,  and  had  looked  up  at  the  dis- 
mal wrindow^s  commanding  that  churchyard  until  at  the 
most  dismal  window  of  them  all  he  saw  a dismal  boy, 
would  in  him  have  beheld,  at  one  grand  comprehensive 
swoop  of  the  eye,  the  managing  clerk,  junior  clerk, 
common-law  clerk,  conveyancing  clerk,  chancery  clerk, 
every  refinement  and  department  of  clerk,  of  Mr.  Morti- 
mer Lightwood,  erewhile  called  in  the  newspapers 
eminent  solicitor. 

Mr.  Boffin  having  been  several  times  in  communica- 
tion with  this  clerkly  essence,  both  on  its  own  ground 
and  at  the  Bower,  had  no  dfficulty  in  identifying  it 
when  he  saw  it  up  in  its  dusty  eyrie.  To  the  second 


MR.  BOFFIN  m CONSULTATION. 


91 


floor  on  which  the  window  was  situated,  he  ascended, 
much  pre-occupied  in  mind  by  the  uncertainties  beset- 
ting the  Roman  Empire,  and  much  regretting  the  death 
of  the  amiable  Partinax:  who  only  last  night  had  left 
the  Imperial  affairs  in  a state  of  great  confusion,  by  fall- 
ing a victim  to  the  fury  of  the  praetorian  guards. 

Morning,  morning,  morning!’’  said  Mr.  Boffin  with 
a wave  of  his  hand,  as  the  office  door  was  opened  by 
the  dismal  boy,  whose  appropriate  name  was  Blight.  . 

Governor  in?” 

^^Mr.  Lightwood  gave  you  an  appointment,  sir,  I 
think  ? ” 

don’t  want  him  to  give  it,  you  know,”  returned 
Mr.  Boffin  ; I’ll  pay  my  way,  my  boy.” 

No  doubt,  sir.  Would  you  walk  in?  Mr.  Light- 
wood  ain’t  in  at  the  present  moment,  but  I expect  him 
back  very  shortly.  Would  you  take  a seat  in  Mr. 
Lightwood’s  room,  sir,  while  I look  over  our  Appoint- 
ment Book?”  Young  Blight  made  a great  show  of 
fetching  from  his  desk  a long  thin  manuscript  volume 
with  a brown  paper  cover,  and  running  his  finger  down 
the  day’s  appointments,  murm.uring,  Mr.  Aggs,  Mr. 
Baggs,  Mr.  Caggs,  Mr.  Daggs,  Mr.  Faggs,  Mr.  Qaggs, 
Mr.  Boffin.  Yes,  sir  ; quite  right.  You  are  a little  be- 
fore your  time,  sir.  Mr.  Lightwood  will  be  in  directly.” 

I’m  not  in  a hurry,”  said  Mr.  Boffin. 

Thank  you,  sir.  I’ll  take  the  opportunity,  if  you 
please,  of  entering  your  name  in  our  Caller’s  Book  for 
the  day.”  Young  Blight  made  another  great  show  of 
changing  the  volume,  taking  up  a pen,  sucking  it,  dip- 
ping it,  and  running  over  previous  entries  before  he 
wrote.  As,  ''Mr.  Alley,  Mr.  Bailey,  Mr.  Calley,  Mr. 
Dailey,  Mr.  Falley,  Mr.  Galley,  Mr.  Halley,  Mr.  Lalley, 
Mr.  Malley.  And  Mr.  Boffin.” 

"Strict  system  here;  eh,  my  lad  ?”  said  Mr.  Boffin, 
as  he  was  booked. 

"Yes,  sir,”  returned  the  boy.  "I  couldn’t  get  on 
without  it.” 

By  which  he  probably  meant  that  his  mind  would 
have  been  shattered  to  pieces  without  this  fiction  of  an 
occupation.  Wearing  in  his  solitary  confinement  no 
fetters  that  he  could  polish,  and  being  provided  with 
no  drinking-cup  that  he  could  carve,  he  had  fallen  on 
the  device  of  ringing  alphabetical  changes  into  the  two 


92 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


volumes  in  question,  or  of  entering  vast  numbers  of 
persons  out  of  the  Directory  as  transacting  business 
with  Mr.  Lightwood.  It  was  the  more  necessary  for 
his  spirits,  because,  being  of  a sensitive  temperament, 
he  was  apt  to  consider  it  personally  disgraceful  to  him- 
self that  his  master  had  no  clients. 

How  long  have  you  been  in  the  law,  now  ? ’’  asked 
Mr.  Boffin,  with  a pounce,  in  his  usual  inquisitive  way. 

Tve  been  in  the  law,  now,  sir,  about  three  years.’’ 

^^Must  have  been  as  good  as  born  in  it!”  said  Mr. 
Boffin,  with  admiration.  Do  you  like  it  ? ” 

I don’t  mind  it  much,”  returned  Young  Blight,  heav- 
ing a sigh,  as  if  its  bitterness  were  past. 

What  wages  do  you  get  ?” 

Half  what  I could  wish,”  replied  young  Blight. 

What’s  the  whole  that  you  could  wish?” 

Fifteen  shillings  a week,”  said  the  boy. 

About  how  long  might  it  take  you  now,  at  an  aver- 
age rale  of  going,  to  be  a Judge?”  asked  Mr.  Boffin, 
after  surveying  his  small  stature  in  silence. 

The  boy  answered  that  he  had  not  yet  quite  worked 
out  that  little  calculation. 

suppose  there’s  nothing  to  prevent  your  going  in 
for  it?”  said  Mr.  Boffin. 

The  boy  virtually  replied  that  as  he  had  the  honour 
to  be  a Briton  who  never  never  never,  there  was  nothing 
to  prevent  his  going  in  for  it.  Yet  he  seemed  inclined 
to  suspect  that  there  might  be  something  to  prevent  his 
coming  out  with  it. 

Would  a couple  of  pound  help  you  up  at  all?”  asked 
Mr.  Boffin. 

On  this  head,  young  Blight  had  no  doubt  whatever, 
so  Mr.  Boffin  made  him  a present  of  that  sum  of  money, 
and  thanked  him  for  his  attention  to  his  (Mr.  Boffin’s) 
affairs;  which,  he  added,  were  now,  he  believed,  as 
good  as  settled. 

Then  Mr.  Boffin,  with  his  stick  at  his  ear,  like  a Famil- 
iar Spirit  explaining  the  office  to  him,  sat  staring  at  a 
little  bookcase  of  Law  Practice  and  of  Law  Reports, 
and  at  a window,  and  at  an  empty  blue  bag,  and  at  a 
stick  of  sealing-wax,  and  a pen,  and  a box  of  wafers, 
and  an  apple,  and  a writing-pad — all  very  dusty — and 
at  a number  of  inky  smears  and  blots,  and  at  an  imper- 
fectly-disguised gun-case  pretending  to  be  something 


MR.  BOFFIN  IN  CONSULTATION. 


93 


legal,  and  at  an  iron  box  labelled  Harmon  Estate,  until 
Mr.  Lightwood  appeared. 

Mr.  Lightwood  explained  that  he  came  from  the  proc- 
tor’s, with  whom  he  had  been  engaged  in  transacting 
Mr.  Boffin’s  affairs. 

^U4nd  they  seem  to  have  taken  a deal  out  of  you!” 
said  Mr.  Boffin,  with  commiseration. 

Mr.  Lightwood,  without  explaining  that  his  weari- 
ness was  chronic,  proceeded  with  his  exposition  that, 
all  forms  of  law  having  been  at  length  complied  with, 
will  of  Harmon  deceased  having  been  proved,  death  of 
Harmon  next  inheriting  having  been  proved,  &c.  and 
so  forth.  Court  of  Chancery  having  been  moved,  &c. 
and  so  forth,  he,  Mr.  Lightwood,  had  now  the  great 
gratification,  honour  and  happiness,  again  &c.  and  so 
forth,  of  congratulating  Mr.  Boffin  on  coming  into  pos- 
session, as  residuary  legatee,  of  upwards  of  one  hundred 
thousand  pounds,  standing  in  the  books  of  the  Gover- 
nor and  Company  of  the  Bank  of  England,  again  &c. 
and  so  forth. 

''And  what  is  particularly  eligible  in  the  property, 
Mr.  Boffin,  is,  that  it  involves  no  trouble.  There  are  no 
estates  to  manage,  no  rents  to  return  so  much  per  cent, 
upon  in  bad  times  (which  is  an  extremely  dear  way  of 
getting  your  name  into  the  newspapers),  no  voters  to 
become  parboiled  in  hot  water  with,  no  agents  to  take 
the  cream  off  the  milk  before  it  comes  to  table.  You 
could  put  the  whole  in  a cash-box  to-morrow  morning, 
and  take  it  with  you  to — say,  to  the  Rocky  Mountains. 
Inasmuch  as  every  man,”  concluded  Mr.  Lightfoot, 
with  an  indolent  smile,  "appears  to  be  under  a fatal 
spell  which  obliges  him,  sooner  or  later,  to  mention  the 
Rocky  Mountains  in  a tone  of  extreme  familiarity  to 
some  other  man,  I hope  you’ll  excuse  my  pressing  you 
into  the  service  of  that  gigantic  range  of  geographical 
bores.” 

Without  following  this  last  remark  very  closely,  Mr. 
Boffin  cast  his  perplexed  gaze  first  at  the  ceiling,  and 
then  at  the  carpet. 

"Well,”  he  remarked,  "I  don’t  know  what  to  say 
about  it,  I am  sure.  I was  a’most  as  well  as  I was.  It’s 
a great  lot  to  take  care  of.” 

"My  dear  Mr.  Boffin,  then  donH  take  care  of  it!” 

" Eh?  ” said  that  gentleman. 


94 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Speaking  now/’ returned  Mortimer,  ^Avith  the  irre- 
sponsible imbecility  of  a private  individual,  and  not 
with  the  profundity  of  a professional  adviser,  I should 
say  that  if  the  circumstance  of  its  being  too  much, 
weighs  upon  your  mind,  you  have  the  haven  of  conso- 
lation open  to  you  that  you  can  easily  make  it  less.  And 
if  you  should  be  apprehensive  of  the  trouble  of  doing 
so,  there  is  the  further  haven  of  consolation  that  any 
number  of  people  will  take  the  trouble  off  your  hands.” 

Well!  I don’t  quite  see  it,”  retorted  Mr.  Boffin,  still 
perplexed.  That’s  not  satisfactory,  you  know,  what 
you’re  a-saying.” 

''Is  Anything  satisfactory,  Mr.  Boffin?”  asked  Mort- 
imer, raising  his  eyebrows. 

" I used  to  find  it  so,”  answered  Mr.  Boffin,  with  a 
wistful  look.  "While  I was  foreman  at  the  Bower — 
afore  it  was  the  Bower — I considered  the  business  very 
satisfactory.  The  old  man  was  a awful  Tartar  (saying 
it.  I’m  sure,  without  disrespect  to  his  memory),  but  the 
business  was  a pleasant  one  to  look  after,  from  before 
daylight  to  past  dark.  It’s  a’most  a pity,”  said  Mr. 
Boffin,  rubbing  his  ear,  "that  he  ever  went  and  made 
so  much  money.  It  would  have  been  better  for  him  if 
he  hadn’t  so  given  himself  up  to  it.  You  may  depend 
upon  it,”  making  the  discovery  all  of  a sudden,  " that 
he  found  it  a great  lot  to  take  care  of  I” 

Mr.  Lightwood  coughed,  not  convinced. 

" And  speaking  of  satisfactory,”  pursued  Mr.  Boffin, 
" why.  Lord  save  us!  when  we  come  to  take  it  to  pieces, 
bit  by  bit,  where’s  the  satisfactoriness  of  the  money  as 
yet?  When  the  old  man  does  right  the  poor  boy  after 
all,  the  poor  boy  gets  no  good  of  it.  He  gets  made  away 
with,  at  the  moment  when  he’s  lifting  (as  one  may  say) 
the  cup  and  sarser  to  his  lips.  Mr..  Lightwood,  I will 
now  name  to  you,  that  on  behalf  of  the  poor  dear  boy, 
me  and  Mrs.  Boffin  have  stood  out  against  the  old  man 
times  out  of  number,  till  he  has  called  us  every  name 
he  could  lay  his  tongue  to.  I have  seen  him,  after  Mrs. 
Boffin  has  given  him  her  mind  respecting  the  claims  of 
the  nat’ral  affections,  catch  off  Mrs.  Boffin’s  bonnet  (she 
wore,  in  general,  a black  straw,  perched  as  a matter  of 
convenience  on  the  top  of  her  head),  and  send  it  spin- 
ning across  the  yard.  I have,  indeed.  And  once,  when 
he  did  this  in  a manner  that  amounted  to  personal,  I 


MR.  BOFFm  m CONSULTATION. 


95 


should  have  given  him  a rattler  for  himself,  if  Mrs. 
Boffin  hadn’t  thrown  herself  betwixt  us,  and  received  it 
flush  on  the  temple.  Which  dropped  her.  Mr.  Light- 
wood.  Dropped  her.” 

Mr.  Light  wood  murmured,  Equal  honour — Mrs.  Bof- 
fin’s head  and  heart.” 

'Wou  understand;  I name  this,”  pursued  Mr.  Boffin, 
^^to  show  you,  now  the  affairs  are  wound  up,  that  me 
and  Mrs.  Boffin  have  ever  stood,  as  we  were  in  Christian 
honour,  bound,  the  children’s  friend.  Me  and  Mrs.  Bof- 
fin stood  the  poor  girl’s  friend;  me  and  Mrs.  Boffin  stood 
the  poor  boy’s  friend;  me  and  Mrs.  Boffin  up  and  faced 
the  old  man  when  we  momently  expected  to  be  turned 
out  for  our  pains.  As  to  Mrs.  Boffin,”  said  Mr.  Boffin, 
lowering  his  voice,  she  mightn’t  wish  it  mentioned 
now  she’s  Fashionable,  but  she  went  so  far  as  to  tell 
him,  in  my  presence,  he  was  a flinty-hearted  rascal.” 

Mr.  Lightwood  murmured,  Vigorous  Saxon  spirit 
— Mrs.  Boffin’s  ancestors — bowmen — Agincourt  and 
Cressy.” 

The  last  time  me  and  Mrs.  Boffin  saw  the  poor  boy,” 
said  Mr.  Boffin,  warming  (as  fat  usually  does)  with  a 
tendency  to  melt,  'Uie  was  a child  of  seven  year  old. 
For  when  he  come  back  to  make  intercession  for  his 
sister,  me  and  Mrs.  Boffin  were  away  overlooking  a 
country  contract  which  was  to  be  sifted  before  carted, 
and  he  was  come  and  gone  in  a single  hour.  I say  he 
wasajchild  of  seven  year  old.  He  was  going  away, 
all  alone  and  forlorn,  to  that  foreign  school,  and  he 
come  into  our  place,  situate  up  the  yard  of  the  present 
Bower,  to  have  a warm  at  our  fire.  There  was  his  little 
scanty  travelling  clothes  upon  him.  There  was  his 
little  scanty  box  outside  in  the  shivering  wind,  which  I 
was  going  to  carry  for  him  down  to  the  steamboat,  as 
the  old  man  wouldn’t  hear  of  allowing  a sixpence  coach- 
money.  Mrs.  Boffin,  then  quite  a young  woman  and  a 
pictur  of  a full-blown  rose,  stands  him  by  her,  kneels 
down  at  the  fire,  warms  her  two  open  hands,  and  falls 
to  rubbing  his  cheeks  ; but  seeing  the  tears  come  into 
the  child’s  eyes,  the  tears  come  fast  into  her  own,  and 
she  holds  him  round  the  neck,  like  as  if  she  was 
protecting  him,  and  cries  to  me,  ' I’d  give  the  wide 
wide  world,  I would,  to  run  away  with  him  ! ’ I don’t 
say  but  what  it  cut  me^  and  but  what  it  at  the  same 


96 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


time  heightened  my  feelings  of  admiration  for  Mrs. 
Boffin.  The  poor  child  clings  to  her  for  awhile,  as  she 
clings  to  him,  and  then,  when  the  old  man  calls,  he  says 
^ I must  go!  God  bless  you!  ’ and  for  a moment  rests  his 
heart  against  her  bosom,  and  looks  up  at  both  of  us,  as 
if  it  was  in  pain — in  agony.  Such  a look!  I went 
aboard  with  him  (I  gave  him  first  what  little  treat  I 
thought  he'd  like),  and  I left  him  wffien  he  had  fallen 
asleep  in  his  berth,  and  I came  back  to  Mrs.  Boffin. 
But  tell  her  what  I would  of  how  I had  left  him,  it  all 
went  for  nothing,  for,  according  to  her  thoughts,  he 
never  changed  that  look  that  he  had  looked  up  at  us 
two.  But  it  did  one  piece  of  good.  Mrs.  Boffin  and  me 
had  no  child  of  our  own,  and  had  sometimes  wished 
that  how  we  had  one.  But  not  now.  ^ We  might  both 
of  us  die,’  says  Mrs.  Boffin,  ^ and  other  eyes  might  see 
that  lonely  look  in  our  child.’  So  of  a night,  when  it 
was  very  cold,  or  when  the  wind  roared,  or  the  rain 
dripped  heavy,  she  would  wake  sobbing,  and  call  out 
in  a fluster,  'Don’t  you  see  the  poor  child’s  face!  0 
shelter  the  poor  child!  ’ — till  in  course  of  years  it  gently 
wore  out,  as  many  things  do.  ” 

" My  dear  Mr.  Boffin,  everything  wears  to  rags,  ” said 
Mortimer,  with  a light  laugh. 

"I  won’t  go  so  far  as  to  say  everything,”  returned 
Mr.  Boffin,  on  whom  his  manner  seemed  to  grate,  " be- 
cause there’s  some  things  that  I never  found  among  the 
dust.  Well,  sir.  So  Mrs.  Boffin  and  me  grow  older  and 
older  in  the  old  man’s  service,  living  and  working 
pretty  hard  in  it,  till  the  old  man  is  discovered  dead  in 
his  bed.  Then  Mrs.  Boffin  and  me  seal  up  his  box,  al- 
ways standing  on  the  table  at  the  side  of  his  bed,  and 
having  frequently  heard  tell  of  the  Temple  as  a spot 
where  lawyers’  dust  is  contracted  for,  I come  down  here 
in  search  of  a lawyer  to  advise,  and  I see  your  young 
man  up  at  his  present  elevation  chopping  at  the  flies  on 
the  window-sill  with  his  penknife,  and  I give  him  a 
Hoy  ! not  then  having  the  pleasure  of  your  acquaint- 
ance, and  by  that  means  come  to  gain  the  honour. 
Then  you,  and  the  gentleman  in  the  uncomfortable 
neck-cloth  under  the  little  archway  in  Saint  Paul’s 
Churchyard ” 

Doctors’  Commons,  ” observed  Lightwood. 

''  I understood  it  was  another  name^  ” said  Mr.  Boffin^ 


MR.  BOFFIN  IN  CONSULTATION. 


97 


pausing/’  but  you  know  best.  Then  you  and  Doctor 
Scommons,  you  go  to  work,  and  you  do  the  thing  that’s 
proper,  and  you  and  Doctor  S.  take  steps  for  finding  out 
the  poor  boy,  and  at  last  you  do  find  out  the  poor  boy, 
and  me  and  Mrs.  Boffin  often  exchange  the  observation, 

^ We  shall  see  him  again,  under  happy  circumstances.  ’ 
But  it  was  never  to  be ; and  the  want  of  satisfactori- 
ness is,*  that  after  all  the  money  never  gets  to  him.” 

But  it  gets,  ” remarked  Light  wood,  with  a languid 
inclination  of  the  head,  ‘'into  excellent  hands.” 

“It  gets  into  the  hands  of  me  and  Mrs.  Boffin  only’ 
this  very  day  and  hour,  and  that’s  what  I am  working 
round  to,  having  waited  for  this  day  and  hour  a’  pur- 
pose. Mr.  Lightwood,  here  has  been  a wicked  cruel 
murder.  By  that  murder  me  and  Mrs.  Boffin  mysteri- 
ously profit.  For  the  apprehension  and  conviction  of 
the  murderer,  we  offer  a reward  of  one  tithe  of  the 
property — a reward  of  Ten  Thousand  Pound.” 

“Mr.  Boffin,  it’s  too  much.” 

“Mr.  Lightwood,  me  and  Mrs.  Boffin  have  fixed  the 
sum  together,  and  we  stand  to  it.” 

“ But  let  me  represent  to  you,”  returned  Lightwood, 
“speaking  now  with  professional  profundity,  and  not 
with  individual  imbecility,  that  the  offer  of  such  an 
immense  reward  is  a temptation  to  forced  suspicion, 
forced  construction  of  circumstances,  strained  accusa- 
tion, a whole  tool-box  of  edged  tools.” 

“Well,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  a little  staggered,  “that’s 
the  sum  we  put  o’  one  side  for  the  purpose.  Whether  it 
shall  be  openly  declared  in  the  new  notices  that  must 
now  be  put  about  in  our  names ” 

“ In  your  name,  Mr.  Boffin  ; in  your  name.” 

“Very  well ; in  my  name,  which  is  the  same  as  Mrs. 
Boffin’s,  and  means  both  of  us,  is  to  be  considered  in 
drawing  ’em  up.  But  this  is  the  first  instruction  that  I, 
as  the  owner  of  the  property,  give  to  my  lawyer  on 
coming  into  it.” 

“Your  lawyer,  Mr.  Boffin,”  returned  Lightwood, 
making  a very  short  note  of  it  with  a very  rusty  pen, 
“has  the  gratification  of  taking  the  instruction.  There 
is  another  ? ” 

“ There  is  just  one  other,  and  no  more.  Make  me  as 
compact  a little  will  as  can  be  reconciled  with  tightness, 
leaving  the  whole  of  the  property  to  ‘my  beloved  wife, 
VOL,  I,  7 


98 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Henerietty  Boffin,  sole  executrix.’  Make  it  as  short  as 
you  can,  using  those  words  ; but  make  it  tight.” 

At  some  loss  to  fathom  Mr.  Boffin’s  notions  of  a tight 
will,  Lightwood  felt  his  way. 

“I  beg  your  pardon,  but  professional  profundity  must 
be  exact.  When  you  say  tight ” 

“ I mean  tight,”  Mr.  Boffin  explained. 

“Exactly  so.  And  nothing  can  be  more  laudable. 
But  is  the  tightness  to  bind  Mrs.  Boffin  to  any  and  what 
conditions  ? ” 

“ Bind  Mrs.  Boffin  ?”  interposed  her  husband.  “ No  ! 
What  are  you  thinking  of  ! What  I want  is,  to  make 
it  all  hers  so  tight  as  that  her  hold  of  it  can’t  be  loosed.” 

“ Hers  freely,  to  do  what  she  likes  with  ? Hers  abso- 
lutely ? ” 

“Absolutely?”  repeated  Mr.  Boffin,  with  a short 
sturdy  laugh.  “ Hah  ! I should  think  so  ! It  would  be 
handsome  in  me  to  begin  to  bind  Mrs.  Boffin  at  this 
time  of  day  ! ” 

So  that  instruction,  too,  was  taken  by  Mr.  Lightwood ; 
and  Mr.  Lightwood,  having  taken  it,  was  in  the  act  of 
showing  Mr.  Boffin  out,  when  Mr.  Eugene  Wray  burn 
almost  jostled  him  in  the  doorway.  Consequently  Mr. 
Lightwood  said,  in  his  cool  manner,  “ Let  me  make  you 
two  known  to  one  another,”  and  further  signified  that 
Mr.  W rayburn  was  counsel  learned  in  the  law,  and  that, 
partly  in  the  way  of  business,  and  partly  in  the  way  of 
pleasure,  he  had  imparted  to  Mr.  Wrayburn  some  of  the 
interesting  facts  of  Mr.  Boffin’s  biography. 

“ Delighted,”  said  Eugene — though  he  didn’t  look  so 
— “to  know  Mr.  Boffin.” 

“Thankee,  sir,  thankee,  returned  that  gentleman, 
“ And  how  do  you  like  the  law?  ” 

“A not  particularly,”  returned  Eugene. 

“ Too  dry  for  you,  eh?  Well,  I suppose  it  wants  some 
years  of  sticking  to,  before  you  master  it.  But  there’s 
nothing  like  work.  Look  at  the  bees?” 

“ I beg  your  pardon,”  returned  Eugene,  with  a reluct- 
ant smile,  but  you  will  excuse  my  mentioning  that  I 
always  protest  against  being  referred  to  the  bees?  ” 

“ Do  you!  ” said  Boffin. 

“I  object  on  principle,”  said  Eugene,  “ as  a biped — ” 

“ As  a what?”  asked  Mr.  Boffin. 

“ As  a two-footed  creature — I object  on  principle,  as 


MR.  BOFFIN  IN  CONSULTATION. 


99 


a two-footed  creature,  to  being  constantly  referred  to 
insects  and  four-footed  creatures.  I object  to  being  re- 
quired to  model  my  proceedings  according  to  the  pro- 
ceedings of  the  bee,  or  the  dog,  or  the  spider,  or  the 
camel.  I fully  admit  that  the  camel,  for  instance,  is 
an  excessively  temperate  person;  but  he  has  several 
stomachs  to  entertain  hirnself  with,  and  I have  only  one. 
Besides,  I am  not  fitted  up  with  a convenient  cool  cellar 
to  keep  my  drink  in.” 

But  I said,  you  know,”  urged  Boffin,  rather  at  a loss 
for  an  answer,  the  bee.” 

Exactly.  And  may  I represent  to  you  that  it’s  inju- 
dicious to  say  the  bee?  for  the  whole  case  is  assumed. 
Conceding  for  a moment  that  there  is  any  analogy  be- 
tween a bee  and  a man  in  a shirt  and  pantaloons 
(which  I deny),  and  that  it  is  settled  that  the  man  is  to 
learn  from  the  bee  (which  I also  deny),  the  question  still 
remains,  what  is  he  to  learn?  To  imitate?  Or  to  avoid? 
When  your  friends,  the  bees,  worry  themselves  to  that 
highly  fluttered  extent  about  their  sovereign,  and  be- 
come perfectly  distracted  touching  the  slightest  mon- 
archical movement,  are  we  men  to  learn  the  greatness 
of  Tuft-hunting,  or  the  littleness  of  the  Court  Circular? 
I am  not  clear,  Mr.  Boffin,  but  that  the  hive  may  be 
satirical.” 

''At  all  events,  they  work,”  said  Mr.  Boffin. 

"Ye-es,”  returned  Eugene,  disparagingly,  "they 
work  ; but  don’t  you  think  they  overdo  it?  They  work 
so  much  more  than  they  need — they  make  so  much  more 
than  they  can  eat — they  are  so  incessantly  boring  and 
buzzing  at  their  one  idea  till  Death  comes  upon  them — 
that  don’t  you  think  they  overdo  it?  And  are  human 
labourers  to  have  no  holidays,  because  of  the  bees? 
And  am  I never  to  have  change  of  air,  because  the  bees 
don’t?  Mr.  Boffin,  I think  honey  excellent  at  breakfast, 
but,  regarded  in  the  light  of  my  conventional  school- 
master and  moralist,  I protest  against  the  tyrannical 
humbug  of  your  friend  the  bee.  With  the  highest 
respect  for  you.” 

" Thankee,”  said  Mr.  Boffin.  " Morning,  morning  ! ” 

But,  the  worthy  Mr.  Boffin  jogged  away  with  a com- 
fortless impression  he  could  have  dispensed  with,  that 
there  was  a deal  of  unsatisfactoriness  in  the  world, 
besides  what  he  had  recalled  as  appertaining  to  the 


100 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Harmon  property.  And  he  was  still  jogging  along 
Fleet  Street  in  this  condition  of  mind,  when  he  became 
aware  that  he  was  closely  tracked  and  observed  by  a 
man  of  genteel  appearance. 

Now  then?  ” said  Mr.  Boffin,  stopping  short, with  his 
meditations  brought  to  an  abrupt  check,  ‘^what’s  the 
next  article?’’ 

I beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Boffin.” 

^‘My  name  too,  eh?  How  did  you  come  by  it?  I 
don’t  know  you.” 

No,  sir,  you  don’t  know  me.” 

Mr.  Boffin  looked  full  at  the  man,  and  the  man  looked 
full  at  him.  '^No,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  after  a glance  at 
the  pavement,  as  if  it  were  made  of  faces  and  he  were 
trying  to  match  the  man’s,  I don^t  know  you.” 

I am  nobody,”  said  the  stranger,  and  not  like  to  be 
known  ; but  Mr.  Boffin’s  wealth ” 

Oh  ! that’s  got  about  already,  has  it  ?”  muttered  Mr. 
Boffin. 

— And  his  romantic  manner  of  acquiring  it,  make 
him  conspicuous.  You  were  pointed  out  to  me  the  other 
day.” 

Well,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  I should  say  I was  a disap- 
pintment  to  you  when  I was  pinted  out,  if  your  polite- 
ness would  allow  you  to  confess  it,  for  I am  well  aware 
I am  not  much  to  look  at.  What  might  you  want  with 
me  ? Not  in  the  law,  are  you  ?” 

No,  sir.” 

^^No  information  to  give,  for  a reward  ?” 

^'No,  sir.” 

There  may  have  been  a momentary  mantling  in  the 
face  of  the  man  as  he  made  the  last  answer,  but  it  pass- 
ed directly. 

^‘Ifl  don’t  mistake,  you  have  followed  me  from  my 
lawyer’s  and  tried  to  fix  my  attention.  Say  out ! Have 
you  ? Or  haven’t  you  ? ” demanded  Mr.  Boffin,  rather 
angry. 

‘Wes.” 

“ Why  have  you  ? ” 

“ If  you  will  allow  me  to  walk  beside  you,  Mr.  Boffin, 
I will  tell  you.  Would  you  object  to  turn  aside  into  this 

Elace — I think  it  is  called  Clifford’s  Inn — where  we  can 
ear  one  another  better  than  in  the  roaring  street  ? ” 

(“  Now,  thought  Mr.  Boffin,  “ if  he  proposes  a game  at 


MR.  BOFFIN  IN  CONSULTATION. 


101 


skittles,  or  meets  a country  gentleman  just  come  into 
property  or  produces  any  article  of  jewellery  he  has 
found,  ril  knock  him  down!”  With  this  discreet  re- 
flection, and  carrying  his  stick  in  his  arm  as  Punch  car- 
ries his,  Mr.  Boffin  turned  into  Clifford’s  Inn  aforesaid.) 

‘^Mr.  Boffin,  I happened  to  be  in  Chancery  Lane  this 
morning  when  I saw  you  going  along  before  me.  I took 
the  liberty  of  following  you,  trying  to  make  up  my  mind 
to  speak  to  you,  till  you  went  into  your  lawyer’s.  Then 
I waited  outside  till  you  came  out.” 

Don’t  quite  sound  like  skittles,  nor  yet  country  gen- 
tleman, nor  yet  jewellery,”  thought  Mr.  Boffin,  ^^but 
there’s  no  knowing.” 

I am  afraid  my  object  is  a bold  one,  I am  afraid  it 
has  little  of  the  usual  practical  world  about  it,  but  I 
venture  it.  If  you  ask  me,  or  if  you  ask  yourself — which 
is  more  likely — what  emboldens  me,  I answer,  I have 
been  strongly  assured,  that  you  are  a man  of  rectitude 
and  plain  dealing,  with  the  soundest  of  sound  hearts, 
and  that  you  are  blessed  in  a wife  distinguished^  by  the 
same  qualities.” 

^^Your  information  is  true  of  Mrs.  Boffin,  anyhow,” 
was  Mr.  Boffin's  answer,  as  he  surveyed  his  new  friend 
again.  There  was  something  repressed  in  the  strange 
man's  manner,  and  he  walked  with  his  eyes  on  the 
ground — though  conscious,  for  all  that,  of  Mr.  Boffin's 
observation — and  he  spoke  in  a subdued  voice.  But 
his  words  came  easily,  and  his  voice  was  agreeable  in 
tone,  albeit  constrained. 

‘AYhen  I add,  I can  discern  for  myself  what  the 
general  tongue  says  of  you — that  you  are  quite  unspoiled 
by  Fortune,  and  not  uplifted — I trust  you  will  not,  as  a 
man  of  an  open  nature,  suspect  that  I mean  to  flatter 
you,  but  will  believe  that  all  I mean  is  to  excuse  myself, 
these  being  my  only  excuses  for  my  present  intrusion.” 

C^How  much?”  thought  Mr.  Boffin.  ^^It  must  be 
coming  to  money.  How  much  ?”) 

You  will  probably  change  your  manner  of  living, 
Mr.  Boffin,  in  your  changed  circumstances.  You  will 
probably  keep  a larger  house,  have  many  matters  to 
apange,  and  be  beset  by  numbers  of  correspondents. 
If  you  would  try  me  as  your  Secretary ” 

''As  whatV^  cried  Mr.  Boffin,  with  his  eyes  wide 
open. 


102 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND* 

“Your  Secretary.'’ 

^"Well,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  under  his  breath,  ‘^that’s  a 
queer  thing  ! ” 

Or,”  pursued  the  stranger,  wondering  at  Mr.  Boffin’s 
wonder,  ''  if  you  would  try  me  as  your  man  of  business 
under  any  name,  I know  you  would  find  me  faithful  and 
grateful,  and  I hope  you  would  find  me  useful.  You 
may  naturally  think  that  my  immediate  object  is 
money.  Not  so,  for  I would  willingly  serve  you  a year 
— two  years — any  term  you  might  appoint — before  that 
should  begin  to  be  a consideration  between  us.” 

Where  do  you  come  from  ?”  asked  Mr.  Boffin. 

I come,”  returned  the  other,  meeting  his  eye,  from 
many  countries.” 

Mr.  Boffin’s  acquaintance  with  the  names  and  situ- 
ations of  foreign  lands  being  limited  in  extent  and 
somewhat  confused  in  quality,  he  shaped  his  next 
question  on  an  elastic  model. 

From — any  particular  place?” 

I have  been  in  many  places,” 

What  have  you  been?”  asked  Mr.  Boffin. 

Here  again  he  made  no  great  advance,  for  the  reply 
was,  I have  been  a student  and  a traveller.” 

''  But  if  it  ain’t  a liberty  to  plump  it  out,”  said  Mr. 
Boffin,  what  do  you  do  for  your  living?” 

''  I have  mentioned,”  returned  the  other,  with  another 
look  at  him,  and  a smile,  what  I aspire  to  do.  I have 
been  superseded  as  to  some  slight  intentions  I had,  and 
I may  say  that  I have  now  to  begin  life.” 

Not  very  well  knowing  how  to  get  rid  of  this  appli- 
cant, and  feeling  the  more  embarrassed  because  his 
manner  and  appearance  claimed  a delicacy  in  which 
the  worthy  Mr.  Boffin  feared  he  himself  might  be  defi- 
cient, that  gentleman  glanced  into  the  mouldy  little 
plantation  or  cat-preserve,  of  Clifford’s  Inn,  as  it  was 
that  day,  in  search  of  a suggestion.  Sparrows  were 
there,  cats  were  there,  dry-rot  and  wet-rot  were  there, 
but  it  was  not  otherwise  a suggestive  spot. 

All  this  time,”  said  the  stranger,  producing^  little 
pocket-book  and  taking  out  a card,  I have  not  men- 
tioned my  name.  My  name  is  Rokesmith.  I lodge  at 
one  Mr.  Wilfer’s  at  Holloway.” 

Mr,  Boffin  stared  again. 

“ Father  of  Miss  Bella  Wilfer?”  said  he. 


MR.  BOFFm  m CONSULTATION. 


103 


landlord  has  a daughter  named  Bella.  Yes;  no 

doubt.’’ 

Now,  this  name  had  been  more  or  less  in  Mr.  Boffin’s 
thoughts  all  the  morning,  and  for  days  before;  therefore 
he  said: 

'^That’s  singular,  too!”  unconsciously  staring  again, 
past  all  bounds  of  good  manners,  with  the  card  in  his 
hand.  Though,  bye-tlie-bye,  I suppose  it  was  one  of 
that  family  that  pinted  me  out?” 

''No.  I have  never  been  in  the  streets  with  one  of 
them.” 

" Heard  me  talked  of  among  ’em,  though?  ” 

"No.  I occupy  my  own  rooms,  and  have  held  scarcely 
any  communication  with  them.” 

" Odder  and  odder!”  said  Mr.  Boffin.  " Well,  sir,  to 
tell  you  the  truth,  I don’t  know  what  to  say  to  you.” 

" Say  nothing,”  returned  Mr.  Rokesmith:  "allow  me 
to  call  on  you  in  a few  days.  I am  not  so  unconscion- 
able to  think  it  likely  that  you  would  accept  me  on  trust 
at  first  sight,  and  take  me  out  of  the  very  street.  Let 
me  come  to  you  for  your  further  opinion,  at  your  leis- 
ure.” 

"That’s  fair,  and  I don’t  object,”  said  Mr.  Boffin; 
"but  it  must  be  on  condition  that  it’s  fully  understood 
that  I no  more  know  that  I shall  ever  be  in  want  of  any 
gentleman  as  Secretary  — it  was  Secretary  you  said; 
wasn’t  it?” 

"Yes.” 

Again  Mr.  Boffin’s  eyes  opened  wide,  and  he  stared  at 
the  applicant  from  head  to  foot,  repeating.  "Queer!— 
Your  sure  it  was  Secretary  ? Are  you?” 

" I am  sure  I said  so.” 

— "As  Secretary,”  repeated  Mr.  Boffin,  meditating 
upon  the  word;  " I no  more  know  that  I may  ever  want  a 
Secretary,  or  what-not,  than  I do  that  I shall  ever  be  in 
want  of  the  man  in  the  moon.  Me  and  Mrs.  Boffin  have 
not  even  settled  that  we  shall  make  any  change  in  our 
way  of  life.  Mrs.  Boffin’s  inclinations  certainly  do  tend 
towards  Fashion;  but,  being  already  set  up  in  a fashion- 
able way  at  the  Bower,  she  may  not  make  further 
alterations.  However,  sir,  as  you  don’t  press  yourself, 
I wish  to  meet  you  so  far  as  saying,  by  all  means  call 
at  the  Bower  if  you  like.  Call  in  the  course  of  a week 
or  two.  At  the  same  time,  I consider  that  I ough^to 


104 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


name,  in  addition  to  what  I have  already  named,  that  I 
have  in  my  employment  a literary  man — with  a wooden 
leg — as  I have  no  thoughts  of  parting  from.” 

I regret  to  hear  I am  in  some  sort  anticipated,”  Mr. 
Rokesmith  answered,  evidently  having  heard  it  with 
surprise;  ^^but  perhaps  other  duties  might  arise?” 

''You  see,”  returned  Mr.  Boffin,  with  a confidential 
sense  of  dignity,  "as  to  my  literary  man’s  duties, 
they’re  clear.  Professionally  he  declines  and  he  falls, 
and  as  a friend  he  drops  into  poetry.” 

Without  observing  that  these  duties  seemed  by  no 
means  clear  to  Mr.  Rokesmith’s  astonished  comprehen- 
sion, Mr.  Boffin  went  on: 

"And  now,  sir.  I’ll  wish  you  good-day.  You  can  call 
at  the  Bower  any  time  in  a week  or  two.  It’s  not  above 
a mile  or  so  from  you,  and  your  landlord  can  direct  you 
to  it.  But  as  he  may  not  know  it  by  its  new  name  of 
Boffin’s  Bower,  say,  when  you  inquire  of  him,  it’s  Har- 
mon’s; will  you?” 

"Harmon’s,”  repeated  Mr.  Rokesmith,  seeming  to 
have  caught  the  sound  imperfectly,  " Harmon’s.  How 
do  you  spell  it  ? ” 

"Why,  as  to  the  spelling  of  it,”  returned  Mr.  Boffin, 
with  great  presence  of  mind,  "that’s  your  look  out. 
Harmon’s  is  all  you’ve  got  to  say  to  him.  Morning, 
morning,  morning  ! ” And  so  departed,  without  look- 
ing back. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

MR.  AND  MRS.  BOFFIN  IN  CONSULTATION. 

Betaking  himself  straight  homeward  Mr.  Boffin, 
without  further  let  or  hindrance,  arrived  at  the 
Bower,  and  gave  Mrs.  Boffin  (in  a walking  dress  of  black 
velvet  and  feathers,  like  a mourning  coach-horse)  an 
account  of  all  he  had  said  and  done  since  breakfast. 

"This  brings  us  round,  my  dear,”  he  then  pursued, 
"to  the  question  we  left  unfinished  : namely,  whether 
there’s  to  be  any  new  go-in  for  Fashion.” 

"Now  I’ll  tell  you  what  I want.  Noddy,”  said  Mrs. 
Boffin,  smoothing  her  dress  with  an  air  of  immense  en- 
joyment, "I  want  Society.” 


MR.  AND  MRS.  BORFIN  IN  CONSULTATION.  105 

Fashionable  Society,  my  dear 

'‘^Yes!’’  cried  Mrs.  Boffin,  laughing  with  the  glee  of 
a child.  Yes  ! It’s  no  good  my  being  kept  here  like 
Wax- Work  ; is  it  now  ?” 

People  have  to  pay  to  see  Wax- Work,  my  dear,”  re- 
turned her  husband,  whereas  (though  you’d  be  cheap 
at  the  same  money)  tho  neighbours  is  welcome  to  see 
you  for  nothing.” 

But  it  don’t  answer,”  Said  the  cheerful  Mrs.  Boffin. 

When  we  worked  like  the  neighbours,  we  suited  one 
another.  Now  we  have  left  work  off,  we  have  left  off 
suiting  one  another.” 

^^What,  do  you  think  of  beginning  work  again?” 
Mr.  Boffin  hinted. 

Out  of  the  question!  We  have  come  into  a great 
fortune,  and  we  must  do  what’s  right  by  our  fortune; 
we  must  act  up  to  it.” 

Mr.  Boffin,  who  had  a deep  respect  for  his  wife’s  intu- 
itive wisdom,  replied,  though  rather  pensively:  '^I  sup- 
pose we  must.” 

It’s  never  been  acted  up  to  yet,  and,  consequently, 
no  good  has  come  of  it,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin. 

True,  to  the  present  time,”  Mr.  Boffin  assented,  with 
his  former  pensiveness,  as  he  took  his  seat  upon  his  set- 
tle. I hope  good  may  be  coming  of  it  in  the  future 
time.  Towards  which,  what’s  your  views,  old  lady?” 

Mrs.  Boffin,  a smiling  creature,  broad  of  figure  and 
simple  of  nature,  with  her  hands  folded  in  her  lap,  and 
with  buxom  creases  in  her  throat,  proceeded  to  expound 
her  views.  - • 

say,  a good  house  in  a good  neighbourhood,  good 
things  about  us,  good  living,  and  good  society.  I say, 
live  like  our  means,  without  extravagance,  and  be 
happy.” 

Yes.  I say  be  happy,  too,”  assented  the  still  pensive 
Mr.  Boffin. 

Lor-a-mussy!”  exclaimed  Mrs.  Boffin,  laughing  and 
clapping  her  hands,  and  gaily  rocking  herself  to  and 
fro,  when  I think  of  me  in  a light  yellow  chariot  and 
pair,  with  silver  boxes  to  the  wheels — ” 

Oh!  you  was  thinking  of  that,  was  you,  my  dear?” 

Yes!  ” cried  the  delighted  creature.  ''And  with  a 
footman  up  behind,  with  a bar  across,  to  keep  his  legs 
from  being  poled!  And  with  a coachman  up  in  front, 


106 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


sinking  down  into  a seat  big  enough  for  three  of  him, 
all  covered  with  upholstery  in  green  and  white!  And 
with  two  bay  horses  tossing  their  heads  and  stepping 
higher  than  they  trot  long- ways!  And  with  you  and 
me  leaning  back  inside,  as  grand  as  ninepence ! Oh-h-h-h 
my!  Ha  ha  ha  ha  ha!’’ 

Mrs.  Boffin  clapped  her  hands  again,  rocked  herself 
again,  beat  her  feet  upon  the  floor,  and  wiped  the  tears 
of  laughter  from  her  eyes. 

And  what,  my  old  lady,”  inquired  Mr.  Boffin,  when 
he  also  had  sympathetically  laughed:  '^what’s  your 
views  on  the  subject  of  the  Bower’” 

Shut  it  up.  Don’t  part  with  it,  but  put  somebody  in 
it,  to  keep  it.” 

Any  other  views?” 

Noddy,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin,  coming  from  her  fashion- 
able sofa  to  his  side  on  the  plain  settle,  and  hooking  her 
comfortable  arm  through  his.  ^^Next  I think — and  I 
really  have  been  thinking  early  and  late — of  the  dis- 
appointed girl  ; her  that  was  so  cruelly  disappointed, 
you  know,  both  of  her  husband  and  his  riches.  Don’t* 
you  think  we  might  do  something  for  her  ? Have  her  to 
live  with  us  ? Or  something  of  that  sort  ? ” 

Ne-ver  once  thought  of  the  way  of  doing  it ! ” cried 
Mr.  Boffin,  smiting  the  table  in  his  admiration.  What 
a thinking  steam -ingein  this  old  lady  is.  And  she  don’t 
know  how  she  does  it.  Neither  does  the  ingein  !” 

Mrs.  Boffin  pulled  his  nearest  ear,  in  acknowledgment 
of  this  piece  of  philosophy,  and  then  said,  gradually 
toning  dowm  to  a motherly  strain:  ‘^^Last,  and  not 
least,  I have  taken  a fancy.  You  remember  dear  little 
John  Harmon,  before  he  went  to  school  ? Over  yonder 
across  the  yard,  at  our  fire  ? Now  that  he  is  past  all 
benefit  of  the  money,  and  it’s  come  to  us,  I should  like 
to  find  some  orphan  child,  and  take  the  boy  and  adopt 
him  and  give  him  John’s  name,  and  provide  for  him. 
somehow  it  would  make  me  easier,  I fancy.  Say  it’s 
only  a whim — ” 

But  I don’t  say  so,”  interposed  her  husband. 

^^No,  but  deary,  if  you  did — ” 

''I  should  be  a Beast  if  I did,”  her  husband  inter- 
posed again. 

That’s  as  much  as  to  say  you  agree  ? Good  and 
kind  of  you,  and  like  you,  deary  ! And  don’t  you  begin 


MR.  AND  MRS.  BOFFIN  IN  CONSULTATION.  107 


to  find  it  pleasant  now,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin,  once  more 
radiant  in  her  comely  way  from  head  to  foot,  and  once 
more  smoothing  her  dress  with  immense  enjoyment, 

don’t  you  begin  to  find  it  pleasant  already,  to  think 
that  a child  will  be  made  brighter,  and  better,  and 
happier,  because  of  that  poor  sad  child  that  day  ? And 
isn’t  it  pleasant  to  know  that  the  good  will  be  done  with 
the  poor  sad  child’s  own  money  ? ” 

‘^‘^Yes;  and  it’s  pleasant  to  know  that  you  are  Mrs. 
Boffin,”  said  her  husband,  ‘^^and  it’s  been  a pleasant 
thing  to  know  this  many  and  many  a year  ! ” It  was 
ruin  to  Mrs.  Boffin’s  aspirations,  but,  having  so  spoken, 
they  sat  side  by  side,  a hopelessly  Unfasliionable  pair. 

These  two  ignorant  and  unpolished  people  had  guided 
themselves  so  far  on  in  their  journey  of  life,  by  a reli- 
gious sense  of  duty  and  desire  to  do  right.  Ten  thou- 
sand weaknesses  and  absurdities  might  have  been  de- 
tected in  the  breasts  of  both ; ten  thousand  vanities  ad- 
ditional, possibly,  in  the  breast  of  the  woman.  But  the 
hard  wrathful  and  sordid  nature  that  had  wrung  as 
much  work  out  of  them  as  could  be  got  in  their  best 
days,  for  as  little  money  as  could  be  paid  to  hurry  on 
their  worst,  had  never  been  so  warped  but  that  it  knew 
their  moral  straightness  and  respected  it.  In  its  own 
despite,  in  a constant  conflict  with  itself  and  them,  it 
had  done  so.  And  this  is  the  eternal  law.  For,  Evil 
often  stops  short  at  itself  and  dies  with  the  doer  of  it ; 
but  Good,  never. 

Through  his  most  inveterate  purposes,  the  dead  Jailer 
of  Harmony  Jail  had  known  these  two  faithful  ser- 
vants to  be  honest  and  true.  While  he  raged  at  them 
and  reviled  them  for  opposing  him  with  the  speech  of 
the  honest  and  true,  it  had  scratched  his  stony  heart, 
and  he  had  perceived  the  powerlessness  of  all  his 
wealth  to  buy  them  if  he  had  addressed  himself  to  the 
attempt.  So,  even  while  he  was  their  griping  taskmas- 
ter and  never  gave  them  a good  word,  he  had  written 
their  names  down  in  his  will.  So,  even  while  it  was  his 
daily  declaration  that  he  mistrusted  all  mankind — and 
sorely  indeed  he  did  mistrust  all  who  bore  any  resem- 
blance to  himself — he  was  as  certain  that  these  two  peo- 
ple, surviving  him,  would  be  trustworthy  in  all  things 
from  the  greatest  to  the  least,  as  he  was  that  he  must 
surely  die. 


108 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin,  sitting  side  by  side,  with  Fashion 
withdrawn  to  an  immeasurable  distance,  fell  to  discuss- 
ing how  they  could  best  find  their  orphan.  Mrs.  Boffin 
suggested  advertisement  in  the  newspapers,  requesting 
orphans  answering  annexed  description  to  apply  at  the 
Bower  on  a certain  day;  but  Mr.  Boffin  wisely  appre- 
hending obstruction  of  the  neighboring  thoroughfares 
by  orphan  swarms,  this  course  was  negatived.  Mrs. 
Boffin  next  suggested  application  to  their  clergyman  for 
a likely  orphan.  Mr.  Boffin  thinking  better  of  this 
scheme,  they  resolved  to  call  upon  the  reverend  gentle- 
man at  once,  and  to  take  the  same  opportunity  of  mak- 
ing acquaintance  with  Miss  Bella  Wilfer.  In  order 
that  these  visits  might  be  visits  of  state,  Mrs.  Boffin’s 
equipage  was  ordered  out. 

This  consisted  of  a long  hammer-headed  old  horse, 
formerly  used  in  the  business,  attached  to  a four- 
wheeled  chaise  of  the  same  period,  which  had  long  been 
exclusively  used  by  the  Harmony  Jail  poultry  as  the 
favorite  laying-place  of  several  discreet  hens.  An  un- 
wonted application  of  corn  to  the  horse,  and  of  paint 
and  varnish  to  the  carriage,  when  both  fell  in  as  a part 
of  the  Boffin  legacy,  had  made  what  Mr.  Boffin  consid- 
ered a neat  turn-out  of  the  whole ; and  a driver  being 
added,  in  the  person  of  a long  hammer-headed  young 
man  who  was  a very  good  match  for  the  horse,  left 
nothing  to  be  desired.  He,  too  had  been  formerly  used 
in  the  business,  but  was  now  entombed  by  an  honest 
jobbing  tailor  of  the  district  in  a perfect  Sepulchre  of 
coat  and  gaiters,  sealed  with  ponderous  buttons. 

Behind  this  domestic  Mr.  and  Mr.  Boffin  took  their 
seats  in  the  back  compartment  of  the  vehicle,  which 
was  sufficiently  commodious,  but  had  an  undignified 
and  alarming  tendency,  in  getting  over  a rough  cross- 
ing, to  hiccup  itself  away  from  the  front  compartment. 
On  their  being  descried  emerging  from  the  gates  of  the 
Bower,  the  neighborhood  turned  out  at  door  and  win- 
dow to  salute  the  Boffins.  Among  those  who  were  ever 
and  again  left  behind,  staring  after  the  equipage,  were 
many  youthful  spirits,  who  hailed  it  in  stentorian  tones 
with  such  congratulations  as  ''Nod-dy  Boffin!”  ''Bof- 
fin’s mo-ney!”  "Down  with  the  dust.  Boffin!”  and 
other  similar  compliments.  These,  the  hammer-headed 
young  man  took  in  such  ill  part  that  he  often  impaired 


Our  Mutual  Friend. 


THE  BOFFIN  PROGKESS. 


MK.  AND  MRa  BOFFIN  IN  CONSULTATION.  109 


the  majesty  of  the  progress  by  pulling  up  short,  and 
making  as  though  he  would  alight  to  exterminate  the 
offenders  ; a purpose  from  which  he  only  allowed  him- 
self to  be  dissuaded  after  long  and  lively  arguments 
with  his  employers. 

At  length  the  Bower  district  was  left  behind,  and  the 
peaceful  dwelling  of  the  Reverend  Frank  Milvey  was 
gained.  The  Reverend  Frank  Milvey’s  abode  was  a 
very  modest  abode,  because  his  income  was  a very 
modest  income.  He  was  officially  accessible  to  every 
blundering  old  woman  who  had  incoherence  to  bestow 
upon  him,  and  readily  received  the  Boffins.  He  Avas 
quite  a young  man,  expensively  educated  and  wretch- 
edly paid,  with  quite  a young  wife  and  half  a dozen 
quite  young  children.  He  was  under  the  necessity  of 
teaching  and  translating  from  the  classics,  to  eke  out 
his  scanty  means,  yet  was  generally  expected  to  have 
more  time  to  spare  than  the  idlest  person  in  the  parish, 
and  more  money  than  the  richest.  He  accepted  the 
needless  inequalities  and  inconsistencies  of  his  life, 
with  a kind  of  conventional  submission  that  was  almost 
slavish ; and  any  daring  layman  who  would  have  ad- 
justed such  burdens  as  his  more  decently  and  gracious- 
ly, would  have  had  small  help  from  him. 

With  a ready  patient  face  and  manner,  and  yet  with 
a latent  smile  that  showed  a quick  enough  observation 
of  Mrs.  Boffin’s  dress,  Mr.  Milvey,  in  his  little  book-room 
— charged  with  sounds  and  cries  as  though  the  six 
children  above  were  coming  down  through  the  ceiling, 
and  the  roasting  leg  of  mutton  below  were  coming  up 
through  the  floor — listened  to  Mrs.  Boffin’s  statement  of 
her  want  of  an  orphan. 

I think,”  said  Mr.  Milvey,  that  you  have  never  had 
a child  of  your  own,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin  ? ” 

Never. 

But,  like  the  Kings  and  Queens  in  the  Fairy  Tales, 

I suppose  you  have  wished  for  one  ? ” 

In  a general  way,  yes. 

Mr.  Milvey  smiled  again,  as  he  remarked  to  himself, 

Those  kings  and  queens  were  always  wishing  for 
children.”  It  occurring  to  him,  perhaps,  that  if  they  had 
been  Curates,  their  wishes  might  have  tended  in  the 
opposite  direction. 

‘^I  think,”  he  pursued,  ^^Ave  had  better  take  Mrs.  Mil- 


110 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


vey  into  our  Council.  She  is  indispensable  to  me.  If 
you  please,  Til  call  her.” 

So  Mr.  Mil  vey  called,  Margaretta,  my  dear!”  and 
Mrs.  Milvey  came  down.  A pretty,  bright  little  woman, 
something  worn  by  anxiety,  who  had  repressed  many 
pretty  tastes  and  bright  fancies,  and  substituted  in  their 
stead,  schools,  soup,  flannel,  coals,  and  all  the  week-day 
cares  and  Sunday  coughs  of  a large  population,  young 
and  old.  As  gallantly  had  Mr.  Milvey  repressed  much 
in  himself  that  naturally  belonged  to  his  old  studies  and 
old  fellow-students,  and  taken  on  among  the  poor 
and  their  children  with  the  hard  crumbs  of  life. 

'‘Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin,  my  dear,  whose  good  fortune 
you  have  heard  of.” 

Mrs.  Milvey,  with  the  most  unaffected  grace  in  the 
world,  congratulated  them,  and  was  glad  to  see  them. 
Yet  her  engaging  face,  being  an  open  as  well  as  a per- 
ceptive one,  was  not  without  her  husband’s  latent  smile. 

" Mrs.  Boffin  wishes  to  adopt  a little  boy,  my  dear.” 

Mrs.  Milvey  looking  rather  alarmed,  her  husband 
added : 

" An  orphan,  my  dear.” 

" Oh  ! ” said  Mrs.  Milvey,  reassured  for  her  own  little 
boys. 

"And  I was  thinking,  Margaretta,  that  perhaps  old 
Mrs.  Goody’s  grandchild  might  answer  the  purpose.” 

" Oh  my  dear  Frank  I I don't  think  that  would  do.’^ 

"No?” 

" Oh  no  ! ” 

The  smiling  Mrs.  Boffin,  feeling  it  incumbent  on  her 
to  take  part  in  the  conversation,  and  being  charmed 
with  the  emphatic  little  wife  and  her  ready  interest, 
here  offered  her  acknowledgments  and  inquired  what 
there  was  against  him. 

" I don't  think,”  said  Mrs.  Milvey,  glancing  at  the 
Reverend  Frank — " and  I believe  my  husband  will 
agree  with  me  when  he  considers  it  again — that  you 
could  possibly  keep  that  orphan  clean  from  snuff. 
Because  his  grandmother  takes  so  many  ounces,  and 
drops  it  over  him.” 

"But  he  would  not  be  living  with  his  grandmother 
then,  Margaretta,”  said  Mr.  Milvey. 

No,  Frank,  but  it  would  be  impossible  to  keep  her 
from  Mrs.  Boffin’s  house  ; and  the  more  there  was  to  eat 


MR.  AND  MRS.  BOFFIN  IN  CONSULTATION.  Ill 

and  drink  there^  the  oftener  she  would  go.  And  she  is 
an  inconvenient  woman.  I hope  it’s  not  uncharitable 
to  remember  that  last  Christmas  Eve  she  drank  eleven 
cups  of  tea,  and  grumbled  all  the  time.  And  she  is  not 
a grateful  woman,  Frank.  You  recollect  her  addressing 
a crowd  outside  this  house,  about  her  wrongs,  when, 
one  night  after  we  had  gone  to  bed,  she  brought  back 
the  petticoat  of  new  flannel  that  had  been  given  her, 
because  it  was  too  short.” 

'^That’s  true,”  said  Mr.  Milvey.  I don’t  think  that 
would  do.  Would  little  Harrison ” 

^^Oh,  Frank  remonstrated  his  emphatic  wife. 

He  has  no  grandmother,  my  dear.” 

^‘No,  but  I don^t  think  Mrs.  Boffin  would  like  an 
orphan  who  squints  so  much.^^ 

That’s  true  again,”  said  Mr.  Milvey,  becoming  hag- 
gard with  perplexity.  If  a little  girl  would  do ” 

But,  my  dear  Frank,  Mrs.  Boffin  wants  a boy.” 
That’s  true  again,”  said  Mr.  Milvey.  ^^Tom  Bocker 
is  a nice  boy  ” (thoughtfully). 

''  But  I doubt,  Frank,”  Mrs.  Milvey  hinted,  after  a 
little  hesitation,  "if  Mrs.  Boffin  wants  an  orphan  quite 
nineteen,  who  drives  a cart  and  waters  the  roads.  ” 

Mr.  Milvey  referred  the  point  to  Mrs.  Boffin  in  a look; 
on  that  smiling  lady’s  shaking  her  black  velvet  bonnet 
and  bows,  he  remarked,  in  lower  spirits,  "that’s  true 
again.” 

"I  am  sure,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin,  concerned  at  giving  so 
much  trouble,  "that  if  I had  known  you  would  have 
taken  so  much  pains,  sir — and  you,  too,  ma’am — I don’t 
think  I would  have  come.” 

" Pi^ay  don’t  say  that !”  urged  Mrs.  Milvey. 

"No,  don’t  say  that,”  assented  Mr.  Milvey,  "because 
we  are  so  much  obliged  to  you  for  giving  us  the  prefer- 
ence.” Which  Mrs.  Milvey  confirmed;  and  really  the 
kind,  conscientious  couple  spoke  as  if  they  kept  some 
profitable  orphan  warehouse  and  were  personally  pat- 
ronized. "But  it  is  a responsible  trust,”  added  Mr.  MiL 
vey,  "and  difficult  to  discharge.  At  the  same  time,  we 
are  naturally  very  unwilling  to  lose  the  chance  you  so 
kindly  give  us,  and  if  you  could  afford  us  a day  or  two 
to  look  about  us — you  know,  Margaretta,  we  might 
carefully  examine  the  workhouse,  and  the  Infant 
School,  and  your  District.” 


112 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


To  be  sure  r said  the  emphatic  little  wife. 

'^We  have  orphans,  I know/’ pursued  Mr.  Milvey, 
quite  with  the  air  as  if  he  might  have  added  in  stock/’ 
and  quite  as  anxiously  as  if  there  were  great  competi- 
tion in  the  business  and  he  were  afraid  of  losing  an 
order,  ''over  at  the  clay-pits;  but  they  are  employed  by 
relations  or  friends,  and  I am  afraid  it  would  come  at 
last  to  a transaction  in  the  way  of  barter.  And  even  if 
you  exchanged  blankets  for  the  child — or  books  and  fir- 
ing— it  would  be  impossible  to  prevent  their  being 
turned  into  liquor.” 

Accordingly,  it  was  resolved  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mil- 
vey should  search  for  an  orphan  likely  to  suit  and  as 
free  as  possible  from  the  foregoing  objections,  and 
should  communicate  again  with  Mrs.  Boffin.  Then,  Mr. 
Boffin  took  the  liberty  of  mentioning  to  Mr.  Milvey  that 
if  Mr.  Milvey  would  do  him  the  kindness  to  be  perpetu- 
ally his  banker  to  the  extent  of  " a twenty-pound  note  or 
so,”  to  be  expended  without  any  reference  to  him,  he 
would  be  heartily  obliged.  At  this,  both  Mr.  Milvey  and 
Mrs.  Milvey  were  quite  as  much  pleased  as  if  they  had 
no  wants  of  their  own,  but  only  knew  what  poverty 
was  in  the  persons  of  other  people;  and  so  the  inter- 
view terminated  with  satisfaction  and  good  opinion  on 
all  sides. 

" Now,  old  lady,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  as  they  resumed 
their  seats  behind  the  hammer-headed  horse  and  man, 
" having  made  a very  agreeable  visit  there,  we’ll  try 
Wilfer’s.” 

It  appeared,  on  their  drawing  up  at  the  family  gate, 
that  to  try  Wilfer’s  was  a thing  more  easily  projected 
than  done,  on  account  of  the  extreme  difficulty  of 
getting  into  that  establishment;  three  pulls  at  the 
bell  producing  no  external  result,  though  each  was  at- 
tended by  audible  sounds  of  scampering  and  rushing 
within.  At  the  fourth  tug — vindictively  administered 
by  the  hammer-headed  young  man — Miss  Lavina  ap- 
peared, emerging  from  the  house  in  an  accidental 
manner,  with  a bonnet  and  parasol,  as  designing  to  take 
a contemplative  walk.  The  young  lady  was  astonished 
to  find  visitors  at  the  gate,  and  expressed  her  feelings 
in  appropriate  action. 

"Here’s  Mr.  and  Mrs  Boffin!”  growled  the  hammer- 
headed young  man  through  the  bars  of  the  gate,  and  at 


MR.  AND  MRS.  BORFIN  IN  CONSULTATION,  lia 

the  same  time  shaking  it,  as  if  he  were  cm  view  in  a 
Menagerie;  “ they’ve  been  here  half  an  hour.  ” 

“Who  did  you  say?  asked  Miss  Lavinia. 

“ Mr.  and  Mrs,  Boffin!  returned  the  young  man, 
rising  into  a roar. 

Miss  Lavinia  tripped  uj)  the  steps  to  the  house  door, 
tripped  down  the  steps  with  the  key,  tripped  across  the 
little  garden,  and  opened  the  gate.  “ Please  to  walk 
in,”  said  Miss  Lavinia,  haughtily.  “ Our  servant  is  out.” 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin  complying,  and  pausing  in  the 
little  hall  until  Miss  Lavinia  came  up  to  show  them 
where  to  go  next,  perceived  three  pairs  of  listening  legs 
^ upon  the  stairs  above.  Mrs.  Wilfer’s  legs.  Miss  Bella’s 
legs,  Mr.  George  Sampson’s  legs. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin,  I think?”  said  Lavinia,  in  a 
warning  voice. 

Strained  attention  on  the  part  of  Mrs.  Wilfer’s  legs, 
of  Miss  Bella’s  legs,  of  Mr.  George  Sampson’s  legs. 

“ Yes,  Miss.” 

“ If  you’ll  step  this  way — down  these  stairs — I’ll  let 
Ma  know.” 

Excited  flight  of  Mrs.  Wilfer’s  legs,  of  Miss  Bella’s, 
of  Mr.  George  Sampson’s  legs. 

After  waiting  some  quarter  of  an  hour  alone  in  the 
family  sitting-room,  which  presented  traces  of  having 
been  so  hastily  arranged  after  a meal,  that  one  might 
have  doubted  whether  it  was  made  tidy  for  visitors,  or 
cleared  for  blindman’s  buff,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin  became 
aware  of  the  entrance  of  Mrs.  Wilfer,  majestically 
faint,  and  with  a condescending  stitch  in  her  side : 
which  was  her  company  manner. 

“Pardon  me,”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer,  after  the  first  salu- 
tations, and  as  soon  as  she  had  adjusted  the  handker- 
chief under  her  chin,  and  waved  her  gloved  hands,  “to 
what  am  I indebted  for  this  honour  ? ” 

“ To  make  short  of  it,  ma’m,”  returned  Mr.  Boffin, 
“perhaps  you  may  be  acquainted  with  the  names  of 
me  and  Mrs.  Bomn,  as  having  come  into  a certain 
property.” 

“I  have  heard,  sir,”  returned  Mrs.  Wilfer,  with  a 
dignified  bend  of  her  head,  “ of  such  being  the  case.” 

“And  I dare  say,  ma’m,”  pursued  Mr.  Boffin,  while 
Mrs.  Boffin  added  confirmatory  nods  and  smiles,  “ you 
are  not  very  much  inclined  to  take  kindly  to  us  ? ” 

VOL.  I.  8 


114 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Pardon  me/’  said  Mr.  Wilfer.  T’ were  unjust  to 
visit  upon  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin,  a calamity  which  was 
doubtless  a dispensation.”  These  words  were  rendered 
the  more  effective  by  a serenely  heroic  expression  of 
suffering. 

That’s  fairly  meant,  I am  sure,”  remarked  the 
honest  Mr.  Boffin;  Mrs.  Boffin  and  me,  ma’am,  are  plain 
people,  and  we  don’t  want  to  pretend  to  anything,  nor 
yet  to  go  round  and  round  at  anything  ; because  there’s 
always  a straight  way  to  everything.  Consequently, 
we  make  this  call  to  say,  that  we  shall  be  glad  to  have 
the  honour  and  pleasure  of  your  daughter’s  acquain- 
tance, and  that  we  shall  be  re j iced  if  your  daughter  will 
come  to  consider  our  house  in  the  light  of  her  home 
equally  with  this.  In  short,  we  want  to  cheer  your 
daughter,  and  to  give  her  the  opportunity  of  sharing 
such  pleasures  as  we  are  a going  to  take  ourselves.  We 
want  to  brisk  her  up,  and  brisk  her  about,  and  give  her 
a change.” 

That’s  it!”  said  the  open-hearted  Mrs.  Boffin.  ^'Lor  I 
Let’s  be  comfortable.” 

Mrs.  Wilfer  bent  her  head  in  a distant  manner  to  her 
lady  visitor,  and  with  majestic  monotony  replied  to  the 
gentleman : 

Pardon  me.  I have  several  daughters.  Which  of 
my  daughters  am  I to  understand  is  thus  favoured  by 
the  kind  intentions  of  Mr.  Boffin  and  his  lady  ? ” 

Don’t  you  see  ?”  the  ever-smiling  Mrs.  Boffin  put  in. 
‘^Naturally,  Miss  Bella,  you  know.” 

‘^^Oh-h!”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer,  with  a severely  uncon- 
vinced look.  My  daughter  Bella  is  accessible  and  shall 
speak  for  herself.”  Then  opening  the  door  a little  way, 
simultaneously  with  a sound  of  scuttling  outside  it,  the 
good  lady  made  the  proclamation,  Send  Miss  Bella  to 
me  ! ” Which  proclamation,  though  grandly  formal, 
and  one  might  almost  say  heraldic,  to  hear,  was  in  fact 
enunciated  with  her  maternal  eyes  reproachfully  glar- 
ing on  that  young  lady  in  the  flesh — and  in  so  much  of 
it  that  she  was  retiring  with  difficulty  into  the  small 
closet  under  the  stairs,  apprehensive  of  the  emergence 
of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin. 

‘'The  avocations  of  R.  W.,  my  husband,”  Mrs.  Wflfer 
explained,  on  resuming  her  seat,  “ keep  him  fully  en- 
gaged in  the  City  at  this  time  of  the  day,  or  he  would 


MR  AJSTD  MRS.  BOFFIN  IN  CONSULTATION.  115 


have  had  the  honour  of  participating  in  your  reception 
beneath  our  humble  roof.’^ 

^^Very  pleasant  premises!’^  said  Mr.  Boffin,  cheer- 

fully. 

Pardon  me,  sir,”  returned  Mrs.  Wilfer,  correcting 
him,  ^'it  is  the  abode  of  conscious  though  independent 
Poverty.” 

Finding  it  rather  difficult  to  pursue  the  conversation 
down  this  road,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin  sat  staring  at  mid- 
air, and  Mrs.  Wilfer  sat  silently  giving  them  to  under- 
stand that  every  breath  she  drew  required  to  be  drawn 
with  a self-denial  rarely  paralleled  in  history,  until  Miss 
Bella  appeared  : whom  Mrs.  Wilfer  presented,  and  to 
whom  she  explained  the  purpose  of  the  visitors. 

^^lam  much  obliged  to  you,  lam  sure,”  said  Miss 
Bella,  coldly  shaking  her  curls,  but  I doubt  if  I have 
the  inclination  to  go  out  at  all.” 

Bella  ! ” Mrs.  Wilfer  admonished  her  ; Bella,  you 
must  conquer  this.” 

^Wes,  do  what  your  Ma  says,  and  conquer  it,  my 
dear,”  urged  Mrs.  Boffin,  because  we  shall  be  so  glad 
to  have  you,  and  because  you  are  much  too  pretty  to 
keep  yourself  shut  up.”  With  that,  the  pleasant  crea- 
ture gave  her  a kiss,  and  patted  her  on  her  dimpled 
shoulders  ; Mrs.  Wilfer  sitting  stiffiy  by,  like  a function- 
ary presiding  over  an  interview  previous  to  an  ex- 
ecution. 

We  are  going  to  move  into  a nice  house,”  said  Mrs. 
Boffin,  who  was  woman  enough  to  compromise  Mr. 
Boffin  on  that  point,  when  he  couldn’t  very  well  contest 
it;  and  we  are  going  to  set  up  a nice  carriage,and  we’ll 
go  everywhere  and  see  everything.  And  you  mustn’t,” 
seating  Bella  beside  her,  and  patting  her  hand,  '^you 
mustn’t  feel  a dislike  to  us  to  begin  with,  because  we 
couldn’t  help  it,  you  know,  my  dear.” 

With  the  natural  tendency  of  youth  to  yield  to  can- 
dour and  sweet  temper.  Miss  Bella  was  so  touched  by 
the  simplicity  of  this  address  that  she  frankly  returned 
Mrs.  Boffin’s  kiss.  Not  at  all  to  the  satisfaction  of  that 
good  woman  of  the  world,  her  mother,  who  sought  to 
hold  the  advantageous  ground  of  obliging  the  Boffins 
instead  of  being  obliged. 

^^My  youngest  daughter,  Lavinia,”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer, 
glad  to  make  a diversion,  as  that  young  lady  reap- 


116 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


peared.  Mr.  George  Sampson,  a friend  of  the 
family.^’ 

The  friend  of  the  family  was  in  that  stage  of  the 
tender  passion  which  bound  him  to  regard  everybody  else 
as  the  foe  of  the  family.  He  put  the  round  head  of  his 
cane  in  his  mouth,  like  a stopper,  when  he  sat  down;  as 
if  he  felt  himself  full  to  the  throat  with  affronting  senti- 
ments. And  he  eyed  the  Boffins  with  implacable  eyes. 

‘‘If  you  like  to  bring  your  sister  with  you  when  you 
come  to  stay  with  us,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin,  of  course  we 
shall  be  glad.  The  better  you  please  yourself.  Miss 
Bella,  the  better  you’ll  please  us.” 

“Oh,  my  consent  is  of  no  consequence  at  all,  I sup- 
pose?” cried  Miss  Lavinia. 

“Lavvy,”  said  her  sister,  in  a low  voice,  “have  the 
goodness  to  be  seen  and  not  heard.” 

“ No,  I won’t,”  replied  the  sharp  Lavinia.  “I’m  not 
a child,  to  be  taken  notice  of  by  strangers.” 

“You  are  a child.” 

“I’m  not  a child,  and  I won’t  be  taken  notice  of. 
‘Bring  your  sister,’  indeed!  ” 

“Lavinia!”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer.  “Hold!  I will  not 
allow  you  to  utter  in  my  presence  the  absurd  suspicion 
that  any  strangers — I care  not  what  their  names — can 
patronize  my  child.  Do  you  dare  to  suppose,  you 
ridiculous  girl,  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin  would  enter 
these  doors  upon  a patronizing  errand  ; or,  if  they  did, 
would  remain  within  them,  only  for  one  single  instant, 
while  your  mother  had  the  strength  yet  remaining  in 
her  vital  frame  to  request  them  to  depart?  You  little 
know  your  mother  if  you  presume  to  think  so.” 

“ It’s  all  very  fine,  ” Lavinia  began  to  grumble,  when 
Mrs.  Wilfer  repeated  : 

“ Hold  ! I will  not  allow  this.  Do  you  not  know  what  is 
due  to  guests  ? Do  you  not  comprehend  that  in  presum- 
ing to  hint  that  this  lady  and  gentleman  could  have 
any  idea  of  patronizing  any  member  of  your  family — I 
care  not  which — you  accuse  them  of  an  impertinence 
little  less  than  insane  ? ” 

“Never  mind  me  and  Mrs.  Boffin,  ma’am,”  said  Mr. 
Boffin,  smilingly  : “we  don’t  care.” 

“ Pardon  me,  but  I do,  ” returned  Mrs.  Wilfer. 

Miss  Lavinia  laughed  a short  laugh  as  she  muttered, 
“Yes,  to  be  sure.” 


MR.  AND  MRS.  BOFFIN  IN  CONSULTATION.  117 


And  I require  my  audacious  child,  ” proceeded  Mrs. 
Wilfer  with  a withering  look  at  her  youngest,  on  whom 
it  had  not  the  slightest  effect,  ^^to  please  to  be  just  to 
her  sister  Bella  ; to  remember  that  her  sister  Bella  is 
much  sought  after  ; and  that  when  her  sister  Bella  ac- 
cepts an  attention,  she  considers  herself  to  be  confer- 
ring qui-i-ite  as  much  honour,  ’’ — this  with  an  indignant 
shiver, — ^^as  she  receives.’’ 

But  here  Miss  Bella  repudiated,  and  said  quietly,  ‘^1 
can  speak  for  myself,  you  know,  ma.  You  needn’t 
bring  me  in,  please.” 

And  it’s  all  very  well  aiming  at  others  through  con- 
venient me,  ” said  the  irrepressible  Lavinia,  spitefully  ; 
^'but  I should  like  to  ask  George  Sampson  what  he  says 
to  it.” 

''Mr.  Sampson,  ” proclaimed  Mrs.  Wilfer,  seeing  that 
young  gentleman  take  his  stopper  out,  and  so  darkly 
fixing  him  with  her  eyes  as  that  he  put  it  in  again  : 
" Mr.  Sampson,  as  a friend  of  this  family  and  a fre- 
quenter of  this  house,  is,  I am  persuaded,  far  too  well- 
bred  to  interpose  on  such  an  invitation.” 

This  exaltation  of  the  young  gentleman  moved  the 
conscientious  Mrs.  Bofiin  to  repentance  for  having  done 
him  an  injustice  in  her  mind,  and  consequently  to  say- 
ing that  she  and  Mr.  Boffin  would  any  time  be  glad  to 
see  him ; an  attention  which  he  handsomely  acknowl- 
edged by  replying,  with  his  stopper  unremoved,  " Much 
obliged  to  you,  but  I’m  always  engaged,  day  and  night.” 

"However,  Bella  compensating  for  all  drawbacks  by 
responding  to  the  advances  of  the  Boffins  in  an  engag- 
ing way,  that  easy  pair  were  on  the  whole  well  satis- 
fied, and  proposed  to  the  said  Bella  that  as  soon  as  they 
should  be  in  a condition  to  receive  her  in  a manner  suit- 
able to  their  desires,  Mrs.  Boffin  should  return  with 
notice  of  the  fact.  This  arrangement  Mrs.  Wilfer  sanc- 
tioned with  a stately  inclination  of  her  head  and  wave 
of  her  gloves,  as  who  should  say,  "Your  demerits  shall 
be  overlooked,  and  you  shall  be  mercifully  gratified, 
poor  people.” 

" Bye-the-bye,  ma’am,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  turning  back 
as  he  was  going,  " you  have  a lodger?” 

" A gentleman,”  Mrs.  Wilfer  answered,  qualifying  the 
low  expression,  "undoubtedly  occupies  our  first  floor.” 

" I may  call  him  Our  Mutual  Friend,”  said  Mr.  Boffin. 


118 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


What  sort  of  a fellow  is  Our  Mutual  Friend,  now?*’ 
Do  you  like  him?” 

^^Mr.  Rokesmith  is  very  punctual,  very  quiet,  a very 
eligible  inmate.” 

'^Because,”  Mr.  BoflBn  explained,  '^you  must  know 
that  I’m  not  particularly  well  acquainted  with  Our  Mu- 
tual Friend,  for  I have  only  seen  him  once.  You  give 
a good  account  of  him.  Is  he  at  home?” 

^‘Mr.  Rokesmith  is  at  home,”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer;  ^'in- 
deed,” pointing  through  the  window,  there  he  stands 
at  the  garden  gate.  Waiting  for  you,  perhaps?” 

Perhaps  so,”  replied  Mr.  Boffin.  Saw  me  come  in, 
maybe.” 

Bella  had  closely  attended  to  this  short  dialogue. 
Accompanying  Mrs.  Boffin  to  the  gate,  she  as  closely 
watched  what  followed. 

'^How  are  you,  sir,  how  are  you?”  said  Mr.  Boffin. 

This  is  Mrs.  Boffin.  Mr.  Rokesmith,  that  I told  you 
of,  my  dear.” 

She  gave  him  good  day,  and  he  bestirred  himself  and 
helped  her  to  her  seat,  and  the  like,  with  a ready  hand. 

Good-bye  for  the  present.  Miss  Bella,”  said  Mrs. 
Boffin,  calling  out  a hearty  parting.  ^^We  shall  meet 
again  soon!  And  then  I hope  I shall  have  my  little 
John  Harmon  to  show  you.” 

Mr.  Rokesmith,  who  was  at  the  wheel  adjusting  the 
skirts  of  her  dress,  suddenly  looked  behind  him,  and 
around  him,  and  then  looked  up  at  her,  with  a face  so 
pale  that  Mrs.  Boffin  cried  : 

Gracious!”  And  after  a moment,  What’s  the 
matter,  sir  ? ” 

How  can  you  show  her  the  dead  ? ” returned  Mr. 
Rokesmith. 

It’s  only  an  adopted  child.  One  I have  told  her  of. 
One  I’m  going  to  give  the  name  to!  ” 

''You  took  me  by  surprise,”  said  Mr.  Rokesmith, 
" and  it  sounded  like  an  omen,  that  you  should  speak 
of  showing  the  Dead  to  one  so  young  and  blooming.” 

Now,  Bella,  suspected  by  this  time  that  Mr.  Roke- 
smith admired  her.  Whether  the  knowledge  (for  it 
was  rather  that  than  suspicion)  caused  her  to  incline  to 
him  a little  more,  or  a little  less,  than  she  had  done  at 
first ; whether  it  rendered  her  eager  to  find  out  more 
about  him,  because  she  sought  to  establish  reason  for 


MR.  AND  MRS.  BOFFIN  IN  CONSULTATION.  Ill) 


her  distrust,  or  because  she  sought  to  free  him  from  it ; 
was  as  yet  dark  to  her  own  heart.  But  at  most  times 
he  occupied  a great  amount  of  her  attention,  and  she 
had  set  her  attention  closely  on  this  incident. 

That  he  knew  it  as  well  as  she,  she  knew  as  well  as 
he,  when  they  were  left  together  standing  on  the  path 
by  the  garden  gate. 

Those  are  worthy  people.  Miss  Wilfer.” 

Do  you  know  them  well  ? ’’  asked  Bella. 

He  smiled,  reproaching  her,  and  she  coloured,  re- 
proaching herself — both,  with  the  knowledge  that  she 
had  meant  to  entrap  him  into  an  answer  not  true — when 
he  said  I know  of  them.’’ 

Truly,  he  told  us  he  had  seen  you  but  once.” 

Truly,  I supposed  he  did.” 

Bella  was  nervous  now,  and  would  have  been  glad  to 
recall  her  question. 

You  thought  it  strange  that,  feeling  much  interested 
in  you,  I should  start  at  what  sounded  like  a proposal 
to  bring  you  into  contact  with  the  murdered  man  who  lies 
in  his  grave.  I might  have  known — of  course  in  a mo- 
ment should  have  known — that  it  could  not  have  that 
meaning.  But  my  interest  remains.” 

Re-entering  the  family-room  in  a meditative  state. 
Miss  Bella  was  received  by  the  irrepressible  Lavinia 
with: 

There,  Bella!  At  last  I hope  you  have  got  your 
wishes  realized — by  your  Boffins.  You’ll  be  rich  enough 
now — with  your  Boffins.  You  can  have  as  much  flirt- 
ing as  you  like — at  your  Boffins.  But  you  won’t  take 
me  to  your  Boffins,  I can  tell  you — you  and  your  Boffins 
too!” 

If,”  quoth  Mr.  George  Sampson,  moodily  pulling  his 
stopper  out,  Miss  Bella’s  Mr.  Boffin  comes  any  more  of 
his  nonsense  to  me,  I only  wish  him  to  understand,  as 
betwixt  man  and  man,  that  he  does  it  at  his  per — ,”  and 
was  going  to  say  peril;  but  Miss  Lavinia,  having  no 
confidence  in  his  mental  powers,  and  feeling  his  oration 
to  have  no  definite  application  to  any  circumstances, 
jerked  his  stopper  in  again,  with  a sharpness  that  made 
his  eyes  water. 

And  now  the  worthy  Mrs.  Wilfer,  having  used  her 
youngest  daughter  as  a lay-figure  for  the  edification  of 
these  Boffins,  became  bland  to  her,  and  proceeded  to  de- 


120 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


velop  her  last  instance  of  force  of  character,  which  was 
still  in  reserve.  This  was,  to  illuminate  the  family  with 
her  remarkable  powers  as  a physiognomist;  powers  that 
terrified  R.  W.  whenever  let  loose,  as  being  always 
fraught  with  gloom  and  evil  which  no  inferior  pres- 
cience was  aware  of.  And  this  Mrs.  Wilfer  now  did,  be 
it  observed,  in  jealousy  of  these  Boffins,  in  the  very 
same  moments  when  she  was  already  reflecting  how 
she  would  flourish  these  very  same  Boffins  and  the  state 
they  kept,  over  the  heads  of  her  Boffinless  friends. 

Of  their  manners,'’ said  Mrs.  Wilfer,  I say  nothing. 
Of  their  appearance,  I say  nothing.  Of  the  disinter- 
estedness of  their  attentions  towards  Bella,  I say  noth- 
ing. But  the  craft,  the  secresy,  the  dark  deep  under- 
hand plotting,  written  in  Mrs.  Boffin’s  countenance, 
make  me  shudder.” 

As  an  incontrovertible  proof  that  those  baleful  attri- 
butes were  all  there,  Mrs.  Wilfer  shuddered  on  the  spot. 


CHAPTER  X. 


A MARRIAGE  CONTRACT. 

There  is  excitement  in  the  Veneering  mansion. 

The  mature  young  lady  is  going  to  be  married  (pow- 
der and  all)  to  the  mature  young  gentleman,  and  she  is 
to  be  married  from  the  Veneering  house,  and  the  Ve- 
neerings  are  to  give  the  breakfast.  The  Analytical,  who 
objects  as  a matter  of  principle  to  everything  that 
occurs  on  the  premises,  necessarily  objects  to  the 
match  ; but  his  consent  has  been  dispensed  with,  and  a 
spring-van  is  delivering  its  load  of  green-house  plants 
at  the  door,  in  order  that  to-morrow’s  feast  may  be 
crowned  with  flowers. 

The  mature  young  lady  is  a lady  of  property.  The 
mature  young  "gentleman  is  a gentleman  of  property. 
He  invests  his  property.  He  goes  in  a condescending 
amateurish  way  into  the  city,  attends  meetings  of 
Directors,  and  has  to  do  with  traffic  in  Shares.  As  is 
well  known  to  the  wise  in  their  generation,  traffic  in 
Shares  is  the  one  thing  to  have  to  do  with  in  this  world. 


A MARRIAGE  CONTRACT. 


121 


Have  no  antecedents,  no  established  character,  no  cul- 
tivation, no  ideas,  no  manners ; have  Shares.  Have 
Shares  enough  to  be  on  Boards  of  Direction  in  capital 
letters,  oscillate  on  mysterious  business  between  Lon- 
don and  Paris,  and  be  great.  Where  does  he  come 
from  ? Shares.  Where  is  he  going  to  ? Shares. 
What  are  his  tastes  ? Shares.  Has  he  any  prin- 
ciples ? Shares.  What  squeezes  him  into  Parliament  ? 
Shares.  Perhaps  he  never  of  himself  achieved  success 
in  anything,  never  originated  anything,  never  pro- 
duced anything  ? Sufficient  answer  to  all ; Shares.  O 
mighty  Shares  ! To  set  those  blaring  images  so  high, 
and  to  cause  us  smaller  vermin,  as  under  the  influence  of 
henbane  or  opium,  to  cry  out,  night  and  day,  '^Relieve 
us  of  our  money,  scatter  it  for  us,  buy  us  and  sell  us, 
ruin  us,  only  we  beseech  ye  take  rank  among  the 
powers  of  the  earth,  and  fatten  on  us  ! ’’ 

While  the  Loves  and  Graces  have  been  preparing  this 
torch  for  Hymen,  which  is  to  be  kindled  to-morrow, 
Mr.  Twemlow  has  suffered  much  in  his  mind.  It  would 
seem  that  both  the  mature  young  lady  and  the  mature 
young  gentleman  must  indubitably  be  Veneering’s 
oldest  friends.  Wards  of  his,  perhaps  ? Yet  that  can 
scarcely  be,  for  they  are  older  than  himself.  Veneering 
has  been  in  their  confidence  throughout,  and  has  done 
much  to  lure  them  to  the  altar.  He  has  mentioned  to 
Twemlow  how  he  said  to  Mrs.  Veneering,  Anastatia, 
this  must  be  a match.”  He  has  mentioned  to  Twemlow 
how  he  regards  Sophronia  Akershem  (the  mature  young 
lady)  in  the  light  of  a sister,  and  Alfred  Lammle  (the 
mature  young  gentleman)  in  the  light  of  a brother. 
Twemlow  has  asked  him  whether  he  went  to  school  as 
a junior  with  Alfred.  He  has  answered,  Not  exactly.”' 
Whether  Sophronia  was  adopted  by  his  mother  ? He 
has  answered,  “^^Not  precisely  so.”  Twemlow’s  hand 
has  gone  to  his  forehead  with  a lost  air. 

But  two  or  three  weeks  ago,  Twemlow,  sitting  over 
his  newspaper,  and  over  his  dry-toast  and  weak  tea,  and 
over  the  stable-yard  in  Duke  Street,  St.  James’s,  received 
a highly-perfumed  cocked-hat  and  monogram  from  Mrs. 
Veneering,  entreating  her  dearest  Mr.  T.,  if  not  par- 
ticularly engaged  that  day,  to  come  like  a charming 
soul  and  make  a fourth  at  dinner  with  dear  Mr.  Pod- 
snap,  for  the  discussion  of  an  interesting  family  topic  ; 


122 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


the  last  three  words  doubly  underlined  and  pointed  with 
a note  of  admiration.  And  Twemlow,  replying,  ''Not 
engaged,  and  more  than  delighted,”  goes,  and  this  takes 
place  : 

"My  dear  Twemlow,”  says  Veneering,  "your  ready 
response  to  Anastatia’s  unceremonious  invitation  is 
truly  kind,  and  like  an  old,  old  friend.  You  know  our 
dear  friend  Podsnap  ? ” 

Twemlow  ought  to  know  the  dear  friend  Podsnap  who 
covered  him  with  so  much  confusion,  and  he  says  he 
does  know  him,  and  Podsnap  reciprocates.  Apparently, 
Podsnap  has  been  so  wrought  upon  in  a short  time,  as 
to  believe  that  he  has  been  intimate  in  the  house  many, 
many,  many  years.  In  the  friendliest  manner  he  is 
making  himself  quite  at  home  with  his  back  to  the  fire, 
executing  a statuette  of  the  Colossus  at  Rhodes.  Twem- 
low has  before  noticed  in  his  feeble  way  how  soon  the 
Veneering  guests  become  infected  with  the  Veneerihg 
fiction.  Not,  hovrever,  that  he  has  the  least  notion  of 
its  being  his  owm  case. 

"Our  friends,  Alfred  and  Sophronia,”  pursues  Ve- 
neering the  veiled  prophet:  "our  friends  Alfred  and 
Sophronia,  you  will  be  glad  to  hear,  my  dear  fellows, 
are  going  to  be  married.  As  my  wife  and  I make  it  a 
family  affair,  the  entire  direction  of  which  w^e  take 
upon  ourselves,  of  course  our  first  step  is  to  communi- 
cate the  fact  to  our  family  friends. 

("Oh!”  thinks  Twemlow,  with  his  eyes  on  Pod- 
snap, "then  there  are  only  two  of  us,  and  he’s  the 
other.”) 

"I  did  hope,”  Veneering  goes  on,  "to  have  had  Lady 
Tippins  to  meet  you  ; but  she  is  always  in  request,  and 
is  unfortunately  engaged.” 

("Oh  !”  thinks  Twemlow,  with  his  eyeswandering, 
" then  there  are  three  of  us,  and  she's  the  other.”) 

" Mortimer  Lightwood,”  resumes  Veneering,  "whom 
you  both  know,  is  out  of  town  ; but  he  writes,  in  his 
whimsical  manner,  that  as  we  ask  him  to  be  bride- 
groom’s best  man  when  the  ceremony  takes  place,  he 
will  not  refuse,  though  he  doesn’t  see  what  he  has  to  do 
with  it.” 

("  Oh  ! ” thinks  Twemlow,  with  his  eyes  rolling,  " then 
there  are  four  of  us,  and  he's  the  other.”) 

"Boots  and  Brewer,”  observes  Veneering,  "w^hom 


A MARRIAGE  CONTRACT.  123 

you  also  know,  I have  not  asked  to-day ; but  I reserve 
them  for  the  occasion.” 

C'  Then,”  thinks  Twemlow,  with  his  eyes  shut,  there 

are  si ” But  here  collapses  and  does  not  completely 

recover  until  dinner  is  over  and  the  Analytical  has  been 
requested  to  withdraw.) 

''We  now  come,”  says  Veneering,  "to  the  point,  the 
real  point  of  our  little  family  consultation.  Sophronia, 
having  lost  both  father  and  mother,  has  no  one  to  give 
her  away.” 

" Give  her  away  yourself,”  says  Podsnap. 

"My  dear  Podsnap,  no.  For  three  reasons.  Firstly, 
because  I couldn’t  take  so  much  upon  myself  when  I 
have  respected  family  friends  to  remember.  Secondly, 
because  I am  not  so  vain  as  to  think  that  I look  the  part. 
Thirdly,  because  Anastatia  is  a little  superstitious  on 
the  subject,  and  feels  averse  to  my  giving  away  any- 
body until  baby  is  old  enough  to  be  married.” 

"What  would  happen  if  he  did?”  Podsnap  inquires 
of  Mrs.  Veneering. 

"My  dear  Mr.  Podsnap,  it’s  very  foolish  I know,  but  I 
have  an  instinctive  presentiment  that  if  Hamilton  gave 
away  anybody  else  first,  he  would  never  give  away 
baby.”  Thus  Mrs.  Veneering ; with  her  open  hands 
pressed  together,  and  each  of  her  eight  aquiline  fingers 
looking  so  very  like  her  one  aquiline  nose  that  the  bran- 
new  jewels  on  them  seem  necessary  for  distinction’s 
sake. 

" But,  my  dear  Podsnap,”  quoth  Veneering,  " there  is 
a tried  friend  of  our  family  who,  I think  and  hope  you 
will  agree  with  me,  Podsnap,  is  the  friend  on  whom 
this  agreeable  duty  almost  naturally  devolves.  That 
friend,”  saying  the  words  as  if  the  company  were  about 
a hundred  and  fifty  in  number,  "is  now  among  us. 
That  friend  is  Twemlow.” 

" Certainly  !”  From  Podsnap. 

" That  friend,”  Veneering  repeats  with  great  firmness 
" is  our  dear  good  Twemlow.  And  I cannot  sufficiently 
express  to  you,  my  dear  Podsnap,  the  pleasure  I feel  in 
having  this  opinion  of  mine  and  Anastatia’s  so  readily 
confirmed  by  you,  that  other  equally  familiar  and  tried 
friend  who  stands  in  the  proud  position — I mean  who 
proudly  stands  in  the  position — or  I ought  rather  to  say, 
who  places  Anastatia  and  myself  in  the  proud  position 


124 


OUE  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


of  himself  standing  in  the  simple  position — of  baby^s 
godfather.’’  And,  indeed,  Veneering  is  much  relieved 
in  mind  to  find  that  Podsnap  betrays  no  jealousy  of 
Twemlow’s  elevation. 

So,  it  has  come  to  pass  that  the  spring-van  is  strewing 
fiowers  on  the  rosy  hours  and  on  the  staircase,  and  that 
Twemlow  is  surveying  the  ground  on  which  he  is  to 
play  his  distinguished  part  to-morrow.  He  has  already 
been  to  the  church,  and  taken  note  of  the  various  im- 
pediments in  the  aisle,  under  the  auspices  of  an  extremely 
dreary  widow  who  opens  the  pews,  and  whose  left  hand 
appears  to  be  in  a state  of  acute  rheumatism,  but  is  in 
fact  voluntarily  doubled  up  to  act  as  a money-box. 

And  now  Veneering  shoots  out  of  the  Study  wherein 
he  is  accustomed, when  contemplative,  to  give  his  mind 
to  the  carving  and  gilding  of  the  Pilgrims  going  to 
Canterbury,  in  order  to  show  Twemlow  the  little  fiourish 
he  has  prepared  for  the  trumpets  of  fashion,  describing 
how  that  oh  the  seventeenth  instant,  at  St.  James’s 
Church,  the  Reverend  Blank  Blank,  assisted  by  the 
Reverend  Dash  Dash,  united  in  the  bonds  of  matrimony, 
Alfred  Lammle,  Esquire,  of  Sackville  Street,  Piccadilly, 
to  Sophronia,  only  daughter  of  the  late  Horatio  Akers- 
hem,  Esquire,  of  Yorkshire.  Also  how  the  fair  bride 
was  married  from  the  house  of  Hamilton  Veneering, 
Esquire,  of  Stucconia,  and  was  given  away  by  Melvin 
Twemlow,  Esquire,  of  Duke  Street,  St.  James’s,  second 
cousin  to  Lord  Snigsworth,  of  Snigsworthy  Park. 
While  perusing  which  composition,  Twemlow  makes 
some  opaque  approach  to  perceiving  that  if  the  Rever- 
end Blank  Blank  and  the  Reverend  Dash  Dash  fail, 
after  this  introduction,  to  become  enrolled  in  the  list 
of  Veneering’s  dearest  and  oldest  friends,  they  will  have 
none  but  themselves  to  thank  for  it. 

After  which,  appears  Sophronia  (whom  Twemlow  has 
seen  twice  in  his  lifetime),  to  thank  Twemlow  for 
counterfeiting  the  late  Horatio  Akershem,  Esquire, 
broadly  of  Yorkshire.  And  after  her,  appears  Alfred 
(whom  Twemlow  has  seen  once  in  his  lifetime),  to  do 
the  same  and  to  make  a pasty  sort  of  glitter,  as  if  he 
were  constructed  for  candle-light  only,  and  had  been 
let  out  into  daylight  by  some  grand  mistake.  And  after 
that  comes  Mrs.  Veneering,  in  a pervadingly  aquiline 
state  of  figure,  and  with  transparent  little  knobs  on  her 


A MARRIAGE  CONTRACT. 


125 


temper,  like  the  little  transparent  knob  on  the  bridge  of 
her  nose,  Worn  out  by  worry  and  excitement,’’  as  she 
tells  her  dear  Mr.  Twemlow,  and  reluctantly  revived 
with  curacoa  by  the  Analytical.  And  after  that,  the 
bridesmaids  begin  to  come  by  railroad  from  various 
parts  of  the  country,  and  to  come  like  adorable  recruits 
' enlisted  by  a sergeant  not  present ; for,  on  arriving  at 
The  Veneering  depot,  they  are  in  a barrack  of  strangers. 

I So,  Twemlow  goes  home  to  Duke  Street,  St.  James’s, 
to  take  a plate  of  mutton  broth  with  a chop  in  it,  and  a 
look  at  the  marriage-service,  in  order  that  he  may  cut 
in  at  the  right  place  to-morrow  ; and  he  is  low,  and  feels 
it  dull  over  the  livery  stable-yard,  and  is  distinctly 
aware  of  a dint  in  his  heart,  made  by  the  most  adorable 
of  the  adorable  bridesmaids.  For,  the  poor  little  harm- 
less gentleman  once  had  his  fancy,  like  the  rest  of  us, 
and  she  didn’t  answer  (as  she  often  does  not),  and  he 
thinks  the  adorable  bridesmaid  is  like  the  fancy  as  she 
was  then  (which  she  is  not  at  all),  and  that  if  the  fancy 
had  not  married  some  one  else  for  money,  but  had  mar- 
ried him  for  love,  he  and  she  would  have  been  happy 
(which  they  wouldn’t  have  beenj,  and  that  she  has  a 
tenderness  for  him  still  (whereas  her  toughness  is  a 
proverb).  Brooding  over^  the  fire,  with  his  dried  little 
head  in  his  dried  little  hands,  and  his  dried  little  elbows 
on  his  dried  little  knees,  Twemlow  is  melancholy.  ^^No 
Adorable  to  bear  me  company  here  ! ” thinks  he.  No 
Adorable  at  the  club  ! A waste,  a waste,  a waste,  my 
Twemlow  ! ” And  so  drops  asleep,  and  has  galvanic 
starts  all  over  him. 

Betimes  next  morning,  that  horrible  old  Lady  Tippins 
(relict  of  the  late  Sir  Thomas  Tippins,  knighted  in  mis- 
take for  somebody  else  by  His  Majesty  King  George  the 
Third,  who,  while  performing  the  ceremony,  .was  grac- 
iously pleased  to  observe,  ''What,  what,  what  ? Who, 
who,  who  ? Why,  why,  why  ? ”)  begins  to  be  dyed  and 
varnished  for  the  interesting  occasion.  She  has  a repu- 
tation for  giving  smart  accounts  of  things,  and  she  must 
be  at  these  people’s  early,  my  dear,  to  lose  nothing  of 
the  fun.  Whereabout  in  the  bonnet  and  drapery  an- 
nounced by  her  name,  any  fragment  of  the  real  woman 
may  be  concealed,  is  perhaps  known  to  her  maid ; but 
you  could  easily  buy  all  you  see  of  her,  in  Bond  Street ; 
or  you  might  scalp  her,  and  peel  her,  and  scrape  her, 


12(3 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


and  make  two  Lady  Tippinses  out  of  her,  and  yet  not 
penetrate  to  the  genuine  article.  She  has  a large  gold 
eye-glass,  has  Lady  Tippins,  to  survey  the  proceedings 
with.  If  she  had  one  in  each  eye,  it  might  keep  that 
other  drooping  lid  up,  and  look  more  uniform.  But  per- 
ennial youth  is  in  her  artifical  flowers,  and  her  list  of 
lovers  is  full. 

‘^Mortimer,  you  wretch,’’  says  Lady  Tippins,  turning 
the  eye-glass  about  and  about,  where  is  your  charge, 
the  bridegroom  ? ” 

Give  you  my  honour,”  returns  Mortimer,  don’t 
know,  and  I don’t  care.” 

Miserable  ! Is  that  the  way  you  do  your  duty  ?” 

Beyond  an  impression  that  he  is  to  sit  upon  my  knee 
and  be  seconded  at  some  point  of  the  solemnities,  like  a 
principal  at  a prize-flght,  I assure  you  I have  no  notion 
what  my  duty  is,”  returns  Mortimer. 

Eugene  is  also  in  attendance,  with  a pervading  air 
upon  him  of  having  presupposed  the  ceremony  to  be  a 
funeral,  and  of  being  disappointed.  The  scene  is  the 
Vestry-room  of  St.  James’s  Church,  with  a number  of 
leathery  old  registers  on  shelves,  that  might  be  bound 
in  Lady  Tippinses. 

But,  hark  ! A carriage  at  the  gate,  and  Mortimer’s 
man  arrives,  looking  rather  like  a spurious  Mephisto- 
pheles  and  an  unacknowledged  member  of  that  gentle- 
man’s family.  Whom  Lady  Tippins,  surveying  through 
her  eye-glass,  considers  a fine  man,  and  quite  a catch  ; 
and  of  whom  Mortimer  remarks,  in  the  lowest  spirits, 
as  he  approaches,  I believe  this  is  my  fellow,  confound 
him  ! ” More  carriages  at  the  gate,  and  lo  the  rest  of 
the  characters.  Whom  Lady  Tippins,  standing  on  a 
cushion,  surveying  through  the  eye-glass,  thus  checks 
off  : Bride  ; five-and-forty  if  a day,  thirty  shillings  a 
yard,  veil  fifteen  pound,  pocket-handkerchief  a present. 
Bridesmaids  ; kept  down  for  fear  of  outshining  bride, 
consequently  not  girls,  twelve  and  sixpence  a yard, 
Veneering’s  flowers,  snub-nosed  one  rather  pretty  but 
too  conscious  of  her  stockings,  bonnets  three  pound  ten. 
Twemlow  ; blessed  release  for  the  dear  man  if  she  really 
was  his  daughter,  nervous  even  under  the  pretence  that 
she  is,  well  he  may  be.  Mrs.  Veneering;  never  saw 
such  velvet,  say  two  thousand  pounds  as  she  stands,  ab- 
solute jeweller’s  window,  father  must  have  been  a pawn- 


A MARRIAGE  CONTRACT. 


127 


broker,  or  how  could  these  people  do  it  ? Attendants  ; 
unknown,  pokey.” 

Ceremony  performed,  register  signed.  Lady  Tippins 
escorted  out  of  sacred  edifice  by  Veneering,  carriages 
rolling  back  to  Stucconia,  servants  with  favours  and 
flowers,  Veneering’s  house  reached,  drawing-rooms  most 
magnificent.  Here,  the  Podsnaps  await  the  happy  party; 
Mr.  Podsnap,  with  his  hair-brushes  made  the  most  of; 
that  imperial  rocking-horse,  Mrs.  Podsnap,  majestically 
skittish.  Here,  too,  are  Boots  and  Brewer,  and  the  two 
other  Buffers;  each  Buffer  with  a flower  in  his  button- 
hole, his  hair  curled,  and  his  gloves  buttoned  on  tight, 
apparently  come  prepared,  if  anything  had  happened 
to  the  bridegroom,  to  be  married  instantly.  Here,  too, 
the  bride’s  aunt  and  next  relation;  a widowed  female  of 
a Medusa  sort,  in  a stoney  cap,  glaring  petrifaction  at 
her  fellow-creatures.  Here,  too,  the  bride’s  trustee;  an 
oilcake-fed  style  of  business-gentleman  with  mooney 
spectacles,  and  an  object  of  much  interest.  Veneering 
launching  himself  upon  this  trustee  as  his  oldest  friend 
(which  makes  seven,  Twemlow  thought),  and  confiden- 
tially retiring  with  him  into  the  conservatory,  it  is 
understood  that  Veneering  is  his  co-trustee,  and  that 
they  are  arranging  about  the  fortune.  Buffers  are  even 
overheard  to  whisper  Thir-ty  Thou-sand  Pou-nds!  with 
a smack  and  a relish  suggestive  of  the  very  finest  oysters. 
Pokey  unknowns,  amazed  to  And  how  intimately  they 
know  Veneering,  pluck  up  spirit,  fold  their  arms,  and 
begin  to  contradict  him  before  breakfast.  What  time 
Mrs.  Veneering,  carrying  baby  dressed  as  a bridesmaid, 
flits  about  among  the  company,  emitting  flashes  of 
many-coloured  lightning  from  diamonds,  emeralds,  and 
rubies. 

The  Analytical,  in  course  of  time  achieving  what  he 
feels  to  be  due  to  himself  in  bringing  to  a dignified  con- 
clusion several  quarrels  he  has  on  hand  with  the  pastry- 
cook’s men,  announces  breakfast.  Dining-room  no  less 
magnificent  than  drawing-room  ; tables  superb  ; all  the 
camels  out,  and  all  laden.  Splendid  cake,  covered 
with  Cupids,  silver,  and  true-lovers’  knot.  Splendid 
bracelet,  produced  by  Veneering  before  going  down, 
and  clasped  upon  the  arm  of  bride.  Yet  nobody  seems 
to  think  much  more  of  the  Veneerings  than  if  they 
were  a tolerable  landlord  and  landlady  doing  the  thing 


128 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


in  the  way  of  business  at  so  much  a head.  The  bride 
and  bridegroom  talk  and  laugh  apart,  as  has  always 
been  their  manner ; and  the  Buffers  work  their 
way  through  the  dishes  with  systematic  perseverance, 
as  has  always  been  their  manner ; and  the  pokey  un- 
knowns are  exceedingly  benevolent  to  one  another  in 
invitations  to  take  glasses  of  • champagne ; but  Mrs. 
Podsnap,  arching  her  mane  and  rocking  her  grandest, 
has  a far  more  deferential  audience  than  Mrs.  Veneer- 
ing ; and  Podsnap  all  but  does  the  honours. 

Another  dismal  circumstance  is,  that  Veneering,  hav- 
ing the  captivating  Tippins  on  one  side  of  him  and  the 
bride’s  aunt  on  the  other,  finds  it  immensely  difficult  to 
keep  the  peace.  For,  Medusa,  besides  unmistakingly 
glaring  petrifaction  at  the  fascinating  Tippins,  follows 
every  lively  remark  made  by  that  dear  creature  with 
an  audible  snort : which  may  be  referable  to  a chronic 
cold  in  the  head,  but  may  also  be  referable  to  indigna- 
tion and  contempt.  And  this  snort  being  regular  in  its 
reproduction,  at  length  comes  to  be  expected  by  the 
company,  who  make  embarrassing  pauses  when  it  is  fall- 
ing due,  and  by  waiting  for  it,  render  it  more  emphatic 
when  it  comes.  The  stoney  aunt  has  likewise  an  injuri- 
ous way  of  rejecting  all  dishes  whereof  Lady  Tippins 
partakes  : saying  aloud  when  they  are  proffered  to  her, 
^^No,  no,  no,  not  for  me.  Take  it  away!”  As  with  a 
set  purpose  of  implying  a misgiving  that  if  nourished 
upon  similar  meats,  she  might  come  to  be  like  that 
charmer,  which  would  be  a fatal  consummation.  Aware 
of  her  enemy.  Lady  Tippins  tries  a youthful  sally  or 
two,  and  tries  the  eye-glass  ; but  from  the  impenetrable 
cap  and  snorting  armour  of  the  stoney  aunt  all  weapons 
rebound  powerless. 

Another  objectionable  circumstance  is,  that  the  pokey 
unknowns  support  each  other  ill  being  unimpressible. 
^ They  persist  in  not  being  frightened  by  the  gold  and 
""  silver  camels,  and  they  are  banded  together  to  defy  the 
• elaborately  chased  ice  pails.  They  even  seem  to  unite 
in  some  vague  utterance  of  the  sentiment  that  the  land- 
lord and  landlady  will  make  a pretty  good  profit  out  of 
this,  and  they  almost  carry  themselves  like  customers. 
Nor  is  there  compensating  influence  in  the  adorable 
bridesmaids;  for  having  very  little  interest  in  the  bride, 
and  none  at  all  in  one  another,  those  lovely  beings 


A MARRIAGE  CONTRACT. 


129 


become,  each  one  on  her  own  account,  depreciatingly 
contemplative  of  the  millinery  present;  while  the  bride- 
groom’s man,  exhausted,  in  the  back  of  his  chair,  ap-* 
pears  to  be  improving  the  occasion  by  penitentially 
contemplating  all  the  wrong  he  has  ever  done;  the 
difference  between  him  and  his  friend  Eugene  being, 
that  the  latter,  in  the  back  of  Ms  chair,  appears  to  be 
contemplating  all  the  wrong  he  would  like  to  do — par- 
ticularly to  the  present  company. 

In  which  state  of  affairs,  the  usual  ceremonies  rather 
droop  and  flag,  and  the  splendid  cake  when  cut  by  the 
fair  hand  of  the  bride  has  but  an  indigestible  appear- 
ance. However,  all  the  things  indispensable  to  be  said 
are  said,  and  all  the  things  indispensable  to  be  done  are 
done  (including  Lady  Tippin’s  yawning,  falling  asleep, 
and  waking  insensible),  and  there  is  hurried  preparation 
for  the  nuptial  journey  to  the  Isle  of  Wight,  and  the 
outer  air  teems  with  brass  bands  and  spectators.  In 
full  sight  of  whom,  the  malignant  star  of  the  Analytical 
has  preordained  that  pain  and  ridicule  shall  befall  him. 
For  he,  standing  on  the  doorsteps  to  grace  the  departure, 
is  suddenly  caught  a most  prodigious  thump  on  the  side 
of  his  head  with  a heavy  shoe,  which  a Buffer  in  the 
hall,  champagne-flushed  and  wild  of  aim,  has  borrowed 
on  the  spur  of  the  moment  from  the  pastry-cook’s 
porter,  to  cast  after  the  departing  pair  as  an  auspicious 
omen. 

So  they  all  go  up  again  into  the  gorgeous  drawing- 
rooms— all  of  them  flushed  with  breakfast,  as  having 
taken  scarlatina  sociably — and  there  the  combined  un- 
knowns do  malignant  things  with  their  legs  to  ottomans, 
and  take  as  much  as  possible  out  of  the  splendid  furni- 
ture. And  so.  Lady  Tippins,  quite  undetermined  whether 
to-day  is  the  day  before  yesterday,  or  the  day  after  to- 
morrow, or  the  week  after  next,  fades  away;  and  Mor- 
timer Lightwood  and  Eugene  fade  away,  and  Twemlow 
fades  away,  and  the  stoney  aunt  goes  away — she  de- 
clines to  fade,  proving  rock  to  the  last — and  even  the 
unknowns  are  slowly  strained  off,  and  it  is  all  over. 

All  over,  that  is  to  say,  for  the  time  being.  But,  there 
is  another  time  to  come,  and  it  comes  in  about  a fort- 
night, and  it  comes  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lammle  on  the 
sands  at  Shanklin,  in  the  Isle  of  Wight. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lammle  have  walked  for  some  time  op 
yoL,  I.  9 


130 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


the  Shanklin  sands,  and  one  may  see  by  their  footprints 
that  they  have  not  walked  arm  in  arm,  and  that  they 
have  not  walked  in  a straight  track,  and  that  they  have 
walked  in  a moody  humour  ; for  the  lady  has  prodded 
little  spirting  holes  in  the  damp  sand  before  her  with 
her  parasol,  and  the  gentleman  has  trailed  his  stick 
after  him.  As  if  he  were  of  the  Mephistopheles  family 
indeed,  and  had  walked  with  a drooping  tail. 

“ Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,  then,  Sophronia ” 

Thus  he  begins  after  a long  silence,  when  Sophronia 
flashes  fiercely,  and  turns  upon  him. 

“ Don’t  put  it  upon  me,  sir.  I ask  you,  do  you  mean 
to  tell  me  ?” 

Mr.  Lammle  falls  silent  again,  and  they  walk  as  be- 
fore. Mrs.  Lammle  opens  her  nostrils  and  bites  her 
under-lip  ; Mr.  Lammle  takes  his  gingerous  whiskers  in 
his  left  hand,  and,  bringing  them  together,  frowns 
furtively  at  his  beloved,  out  of  a thick  gingerous 
bush. 

“Do  /mean  to  say  !”  Mrs.  Lammle  after  a time  re- 
peats, with  indignation.  “ Putting  it  on  me  ! The  un- 
manly disingenuousness  ! ” 

Mr.  Lammle  stops,  releases  his  whiskers,  and  looks  at 
her.  “ The  what  ?”  • 

Mrs.  Lammle  haughtily  replies,  without  stopping,  and 
without  looking  back.  “ The  meanness.” 

He  is  at  her  side  again  in  a pace  or  two,  and  he  re- 
torts, “ That  is  not  what  you  said.  You  said  disin- 
genuousness. 

“What  if  I did?” 

“ There  is  no  ‘ if  ’ in  the  case.  You  did.” 

! “ I did  then.  And  what  of  it  ? ” 

“ What  of  it  ? ” says  Mr.  Lammle.  “ Have  you  the  face 
to  utter  the  word  to  me  ? ” 

“ The  face,  to  !”  replied  Mrs.  Lammle,  staring  at  him 
with  cold  scorn.  “Pray,  how  dare  you,  sir,  utter  the 
word  to  me  ? ” 

“I  never  did.” 

As  this  happens  to  be  true,  Mrs.  Lammle  is  thrown  on 
the  feminine  resource  of  saying,  “ I don’t  care  what  you 
uttered  or  did  not  utter.” 

After  a little  more  walking  and  a little  more  silence, 
Mr.  Lammle  breaks  the  latter. 

“You  shall  proceed  in  your  own  way.  You  claim  a 


A MARRIAGE  CONTRACT. 


131 


right  to  ask  me  do  I mean  to  tell  you.  Do  I mean  to 
tell  you  what  ? ’’ 

That  you  are  a man  of  property  ?” 

Then  you  married  me  on  false  pretences 

^^So  be  it.  Next  comes  what  you  mean  to  say.  Do 
you  mean  to  say  you  are  a woman  of  property 
^^No.’’ 

^^Then  you  married  me  on  false  pretences.” 

‘^If  you  were  so  dull  a fortune-hunter  that  you  de- 
ceived yourself,  or  if  you  were  so  greedy  and  grasping 
that  you  were  over- willing  to  be  deceived  by  appear- 
ances, is  it  my  fault,  you  adventurer  ? ” the  lady  de- 
mands with  great  asperity. 

asked  Veneering,  and  he  told  me  you  were  rich.” 

Veneering  !”  with  great  contempt.  ^^And  what 
does  Veneering  know  about  me  !” 

Was  he  not  your  trustee  ?” 

^‘^No.  I have  no  trustee,  but  the  one  you  saw  on  the 
day  when  you  fraudulently  married  me.  And  his  trust 
is  not  a very  difficult  one,  for  it  is  only  an  annuity  of  a 
hundred  and  fifteen  pounds.  I think  there  are  some 
odd  shillings  or  pence,  if  you  are  very  particular.” 

Mr.  Lammle  bestows  a by  no  means  loving  look  upon 
the  partner  of  his  joys  and  sorrows,  and  he  mutters 
something  ; but  checks  himself. 

Question  for  question.  It  is  my  turn  again,  Mrs. 
Lammle.  What  made  you  suppose  me  a man  of 
property  ? ” 

‘‘You  made  me  suppose  you  so.  Perhaps  you  will 
deny  that  you  always  presented  yourself  to  me  in  that 
character  ? ” 

But  you  asked  somebody,  too.  Come,  Mrs.  Lammle, 
admission  for  admission.  You  asked  somebody?  ” 

• I asked  Veneering.” 

And  Veneering  knew  as  much  of  me  as  he  knew  of 
you,  or  as  anybody  knows  of  him.” 

After  more  silent  walking,  the  bride  stops  short,  to 
say  in  a passionate  manner  : 

I never  vdll  forgive  the  Veneerings  for  this!” 

Neither  will  I,”  returns  the  bridegroom. 

With  that  they  walk  again  ; she,  making  those  angry 
spirts  in  the  sand  ; he  dragging  that  dejected  tail.  The 
tide  is  low,  and  seems  to  have  thrown  them  togethei' 


132 


OUR  mutual  FRIENL*. 


high  on  the  bare  shore.  A gull  comes  sweeping  by 
their  heads,  and  flouts  them.  There  was  a golden  sur- 
face on  the  brown  cliffs  but  now,  and  behold  they  are 
only  damp  earth.  A taunting  roar  comes  from  the  sea, 
and  the  far-out  rollers  mount  upon  one  another,  to  look 
at  the  entrapped  impostors,  and  to  join  in  impish  and 
exultant  gambols. 

“Do  you  pretend  to  believe,”  Mrs.  Lammle  resumes, 
sternly,  “ when  you  talk  of  my  marrying  you  for  worldly 
advantages,  that  it  .was  within  the  bounds  of  reason- 
able probability  that  I would  have  married  you  for 
yourself?” 

“Again  there  are  two  sides  to  the  question,  Mrs. 
Lammle.  What  do  you  pretend  to  believe?” 

“ So  you  first  deceive  me  and  then  insult  me!”  cries 
the  lady,  with  a heaving  bosom. 

“ Not  at  all.  I have  originated  nothing.  The  double- 
edged  question  was  yours.” 

“Was  mine!”  the  bride  repeats,  and  her  parasol 
breaks  in  her  angry  hand. 

His  colour  has  turned  to  a livid  white,  and  ominous 
marks  have  come  to  light  about  his  nose,  as  if  the  finger 
of  the  very  devil  himself  had,  within  the  last  few  mo- 
ments, touched  it  here  and  there.  But  he  has  repressive 
power,  and  she  has  none. 

“Throw  it  away,”  he  coolly  recommends  as  to  the 
parasol ; “ you  have  made  it  useless  ; you  look  ridiculous 
with  it.” 

Whereupon  she  calls  him  in  her  rage,  “A  deliberate 
villain,”  and  so  casts  the  broken  thing  from  her  as  that 
it  strikes  him  in  falling.  The  finger-marks  are  some- 
thing whiter  for  the  instant,  but  he  walks  on  at  her 
.side. 

She  bursts  into  tears,  declaring  herself  the  wretched- 
est,  the  most  deceived,  the  worst-used,  of  women. 
Then  she  says  that  if  she  had  the  courage  to  kill  herself, 
she  would  do  it.  Then  she  calls  him  vile  imposter. 
Then  she  asks  him,  why,  in  the  disappointment  of  his 
base  speculation,  he  does  not  take  her  life  with  his  own 
hand,  under  the  present  favourable  circumstances. 
Then  she  cries  again.  Then  she  is  enraged  again,  and 
makes  some  mention  of  swindlers.  Finally  she  sits 
down  crying  on  a block  of  stone,  and  is  in  all  the  known 
and  unknown  humours  of  her  sex  at  once.  Pending  her 


A MARRIAGE  CONTRACT. 


133 


changes,  those  aforesaid  marks  in  his  face  have  come 
and  gone,  now  here,  now  there,  like  white  stops  of  a 
pipe  on  which  the  diabolical  performer  has  played  a 
tune.  Also  his  livid  lips  are  parted  at^last,  as  if  he 
were  breathless  with  running.  Yet  he  is  not. 

‘^Now,  get  up,  Mrs.  Lammle,  and  let  us  speak  reason- 
ably.’’ 

She  sits  upon  her  stone,  and  takes  no  heed  of  him.  t 

''Get  up,  I tell  you.” 

Raising  her  head,  she  looks  contemptuously  in  his 
face,  and  repeats,  "You  tell  me  ! Tell  me,  forsooth  !” 

She  effects  not  to  know  that  his  eyes  are  fastened  on 
her  as  she  droops  her  head  again  ; but  her  whole  figure 
reveals  that  she  knows  it  uneasily. 

" Enough  of  this.  Come  ! Do  you  hear  ? Get  up.” 

Yielding  to  his  hand,  she  rises,  and  they  walk  again  ; 
but  this  time  with  their  faces  turned  towards  their  place 
of  residence. 

" Mrs.  Lammle,  we  have  both  been  deceiving,  and  we 
have  both  been  deceived.  We  have  both  been  biting, 
and  we  have  both  been  bitten.  In  a nut-shell,  there’s 
the  state  of  the  case.” 

"You  sought  me  out ” 

" Tut ! Let  us  have  done  with  that.  We  know  very 
well  how  it  was.  Why  should  you  and  I talk  about  it, 
when  you  and  I can’t  disguise  it  ? To  proceed.  I am 
disappointed  and  cut  a poor  figure.” 

" Am  I no  one  ? ” 

"Some  one — and  I was  coming  to  you,  if  you  had 
waited  a moment.  You,  too,  are  disappointed  and  cut 
a poor  figure.” 

" An  injured  figure  ! ” 

"You  are  now  cool  enough,  Sophronia,  to  see  that 
you  can’t  be  injured  without  my  being  equally  injured; 
and  that  therefore  the  mere  word  is  not  to  the  purpose. 
When  I look  back,  I wonder  how  I can  have  been  such 
a fool  as  to  take  you  to  so  great  an  extent  upon  trust.” 

"And  when  I look  back — ” the  bride  cries,  interrupt- 
ing. 

" And  when  you  look  back,  you  wonder  how  you  can 
have  been — you’ll  excuse  the  word?” 

" M )st  certainly,  with  so  much  reason.” 

" — Such  a fool  as  to  take  7ne  to  so  great  an  extent 
upon  trust.  But  the  folly  is  committed  on  both  sides.  I 


134 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


cannot  get  rid  of  you;  you  cannot  get  rid  of  me.  What 
follows?’’ 

Shame  and  misery/’  the  bride  bitterly  replies. 

I don’t  know,  A mutual  understanding  follows,  and 
I think  it  may  carry  us  through.  Here  I split  my  dis- 
course (give  me  your  arm,  Sophronia)  into  three  heads, 
to  make  it  shorter  and  plainer.  Firstly,  it’s  enough  to 
have  been  done,  without  the  mortification  of  being 
known  to  have  been  done.  So  we  agree  to  keep  the 
fact  to  ourselves.  You  agree?” 

''If  it  is  possible,  I do.” 

"Possible!  We  have  pretended  well  enough  to  one 
another.  Can’t  we,  united,  pretend  to  the  world? 
Agreed.  Secondly,  we  owe  the  Veneerings  a grudge, 
and  we  owe  all  other  people  the  grudge  of  wishing 
them  to  be  taken  in,  as  we  ourselves  have  been  taken 
in.  Agreed.” 

"Yes.  Agreed.” 

"We  come  smoothly  to  thirdly.  You  have  called  me 
an  adventurer,  Sophronia.  So  I am.  In  plain  uncom- 
plimentary English,  so  I am.  So  are  you,  my  dear.  So 
are  many  people.  We  agree  to  keep  our  own  secret, 
and  to  work  together  in  furUierance  of  our  own 
schemes.” 

"What  schemes?” 

" Any  scheme  that  will  bring  us  money.  By  our  own 
schemes,  I mean  our  joint  interest.  Agreed?” 

She  answers,  after  a little  hesitation,  "I  suppose  so. 
Agreed.” 

"Carried  at  once,  you  see!  Now,  Sophronia,  only  half 
a dozen  words  more.  We  know  one  another  perfectly. 
Don’t  be  tempted  into  twitting  me  with  the  past  knowl- 
edge that  you  have  of  me,  because  it  is  identical  with 
the  past  knowledge  I have  of  you,  and  in  twitting  me, 
you  twit  yourself,  and  I don’t  want  to  hear  you  do  it. 
With  this  good  understanding  established  between  us, 
it  is  better  never  done.  To  wind  up  all: — You  have 
shown  temper  to-day,  Sophronia.  Don’t  be  betrayed 
into  doing  so  again,  because  I have  a devil  of  a temper 
myself.” 

So,  the  happy  pair,  with  this  hopeful  marriage  contract 
thus  signed,  sealed,  and  delivered,  repair  homeward. 
If,  when  those  infernal  fingermarks  were  on  the  white 
and  breathless  countenance  of  Alfred  Lammle^  Esquire, 


PODSNAPPERY. 


135 


they  denoted  that  he  conceived  the  purpose  of  subduing 
his  dear  wife  Mrs.  Alfred  Lammle,  by  at  once  divesting 
her  of  any  lingering  reality  or  pretence  of  self-respect, 
the  purpose  would  seem  to  have  been  presently  ex- 
ecuted. The  mature  young  lady  has  mighty  little  need 
of  powder,  now,  for  her  downcast  face,  as  he  escorts 
her  in  the  light  of  the  setting  sun  to  their  abode  of 
bliss. 


CHAPTER  XL 

PODSNAPPERY. 

Mr.  PODSXAP  was  well  to  do,  and  stood  very  high 
in  Mr.  Podsnap’s  opinion.  Beginning  with  a good 
inheritance,  he  had  married  a good  inheritance,  and 
had  thriven  exceedingly  in  the  Marine  Insurance  way, 
and  was  quite  satisfied.  He  never  could  make  out  why 
everybody  was  not  quite  satisfied,  and  he  felt  conscious 
that  he  set  a brilliant  social  example  in  being  particu- 
larly well  satisfied  with  most  things,  and,  above  all 
other  things,  with  himself. 

Thus  happily  acquainted  with  his  own  merit  and  im- 
portance, Mr.  Podsnap  settled  that  whatever  he  put 
behind  him  he  put  out  of  existence.  There  was  a digni- 
fied conclusiveness — not  to  add  a grand  convenience — 
in  this  way  of  getting  rid  of  disagreeables  which  had 
done  much  tov/ards  establishing  Mr.  Podsnap  in  his 
lofty  place  in  Mr.  Podsnap’s  satisfaction.  don’t 

want  to  know  about  it;  I don’t  choose  to  discuss  it;  I 
don’t  admit  it!”  Mr.  Podsnap  had  even  acquired  a pe- 
culiar fiourish  of  his  right  arm  in  often  clearing  the 
world  of  its  most  difficult  problems,  by  sweeping  them 
behind  him  (and  consequently  sheer  away)  with  those 
words  and  a flushed  face.  For  they  afironted  him. 

Mr.  Podsnap’s  world  was  not  a very  large  world, 
morally  ; no,  nor  even  geographically  : seeing  that 
although  his  business  was  sustained  upon  commerce 
with  other  countries,  he  considered  other  countries, 
with  that  important  reservation,  a mistake,  and  of  their 
manners  and  customs  would  conclusively  observe, 
‘^Not  English!”  when,  Presto,  with  a flourish  of  the 


136 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


arm,  and  a flush  of  the  face,  they  were  swept  away. 
Elsewise,  the  world  got  up  at  eight,  shaved  close  at  a 
quarter-past,  breakfasted  at  nine,  went  to  the  City  at 
ten,  came  home  at  half -past  flve,  and  dined  at  seven. 
Mr.  Podsnap’s  notions  of  the  Arts  in  their  integrity 
might  have  been  stated  thus.  Literature  ; large  print, 
respectfully  descriptive  of  getting  up  at  eight,  shaving 
close  at  a quarter  past,  breakfasting  at  nine,  going  to 
the  City  at  ten,  coming  home  at  half -past  flve,  and 
dining  at  seven.  Painting  and  Sculpture  ; models  and 
portraits  representing  Professors  of  getting  up  at 
eight,  shaving  close  at  a quarter  past,  breakfasting  at 
nine,  going  to  the  City  at  ten,  coming  home  at  half- 
past flve,  and  dining  at  seven.  Music ; a respectable 
performance  (without  variations)  on  stringed  and  wind 
instruments,  sedately  expressive  of  getting  up  at  eight, 
shaving  close  at  a quarter  past,  breakfasting  at  nine, 
going  to  the  City  at  ten,  coming  home  at  half -past  flve, 
and  dining  at  seven.  Nothing  else  to  be  permitted  to 
those  same  vagrants  the  Arts,  on  pain  of  excommuni- 
cation. Nothing  else  To  Be  — anywhere! 

As  a so  eminently  respectable  man,  Mr.  Podsnap  was 
sensible  of  its  being  required  of  him  to  take  Providence 
under  his  protection.  Consequently  he  always  knew 
exactly  what  Providence  meant.  Inferior  and  less 
respectable  men  might  fall  short  of  that  mark,  but  Mr. 
Podsnap  was  always  up  to  it.  And  it  was  very  remark- 
able (and  must  have  been  very  comfortable)  that  what 
Providence  meant,  was  invariably  what  Mr.  Podsnap 
meant. 

These  may  be  said  to  have  been  the  articles  of  a faith 
and  school  which  the  present  chapter  takes  the  liberty 
of  calling,  after  its  representative  man,  Podsnappery. 
They  were  conflned  within  close  bounds,  as  Mr.  Pod- 
snap’s  own  head  was  conflned  by  his  shirt-collar  ; and 
they  were  enunciated  with  a sounding  pomp  that 
smacked  of  the  creaking  of  Mr.  Podsnap’s  own  boots. 

There  was  a Miss  Podsnap.  And  this  young  rocking- 
horse  was  being  trained  in  her  mother’s  art  of  prancing 
in  a stately  manner  without  ever  getting  on.  But  the 
high  parental  action  was  not  yet  imparted  to  her,  and 
in  truth  she  was  but  an  undersized  damsel,  with  high 
shoulders,  low  spirits,  chilled  elbows,  and  a rasped  sur- 
face of  nosC;  who  seemed  to  take  occasional  frosty  peeps 


POBSNAPPEBY. 


out  of  childhood  into  womanhood,  and  to  shrink  back 
again,  overcome  by  her  mother’s  head-dress  and  her 
father  from  head  to  foot— crushed  by  the  mere  dead- 
weight of  Podsnapjiery. 

A certain  institution  in  Mr.  Podsnap’s  mind  which  he 
called  “the  young  person”  may  be  considered  to  have 
DGGn  GmbodiGd.  in  Miss  Podsnnp,  his  daughtGr.  It  was 
an  inconvGniGnt  and  Gxacting  institution^  as  rGouiring 
GVGry thing  in  thG  univGrsG  to  dg  filGd  down  and  fittod  to 
Tho  quGstion  about  Gvorything  was,  would  it  bring 
ablush  into  tho  chook  of  tho  young  person?  And  the 
inconvenience  of  the  young  person  was,  that,  according 
to  Mr.  Podsnap,  she  seemed  always  liable  to  burst  into 
blushes  when  there  was  no  need  at  all.  There  appeared 
to  be  no  line  of  demarcation  between  the  young  person’s 
excessive  innocence,  and  another  person’s  guiltiest 
knowledge.  Take  Mr.  Podsnap’s  word  for  it,  and  the 
soberest  tints  of  drab,  white,  lilac,  and  grey,  were  all 
naming  red  to  his  troublesome  Bull  of  a young  person. 

The  Podsnaps  lived  in  a shady  angle  adjoining  Port- 
man  Square.  They  were  a kind  of  people  certain  to 
dwell  in  the  shade,  wherever  they  dwelt.  Miss  Pod- 
snap  s life  had  been,  from  her  first  appearance  on  this 
planet,  altogether  of  a shady  order;  for,  Mr.  Podsnap’s 
young  person  was  likely  to  get  little  good  out  of  associ- 
ation with  ot^er  young  persons,  and  had  therefore  been 
restricted  to  companionship  with  not  very  congenial 
older  persons,  and  with  massive  furniture.  Miss  Pod- 
snap  s early  views  of  life  being  principally  derived  from 
the  reflections  of  it  in  her  father’s  boots,  and  in  the  wal- 
nut and  rosewood  tables  of  the  dim  drawing-rooms,  .and 
in  their  swarthy  giants  of  looking-glasses,  were  of  a 
sombre  castj  and  it  was  not  wonderful  that  now,  when 
she  was  on  most  days  solemnly  tooled  through  the  Park 
by  the  side  of  her  mother  in  a great  tall  custard-col- 
oured phaeton,  she  showed  above  the  apron  of  that  ve- 
hicle like  ^ dejected  young  person  sitting  up  in  bed  to 
take  a startled  look  at  things  in  general,  and  very 
strongly  desiring  to  get  her  head  under  the  counterpane 
again.  ^ 


Said  Mr.  Podsnap  to  Mrs.  Podsnap, 
most  eighteen.” 

eightee^*’*  to  Mr.  Podsnap,  assenting 


Georgiana  is  al- 


‘Almost 


138  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND, 

Said  Mr.  Pod^nap  then  to  Mrs.  Podsnap,  ^'Really  I 
think  we  should  have  some  people  on  Georgiana’s  birth- 
day.” 

Said  Mrs.  Podsnap  then  to  Mr.  Podsnap,  ^ 'Which  will 
enable  us  to  clear  off  all  those  people  who  are  due.” 

So  it  came  to  pass  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Podsnap  requested 
the  honour  of  the  company  of  seventeen  friends  of  their 
souls  at  dinner;  and  'that  they  substituted  other  friends 
of  their  souls  for  such  of  the  seventeen  original  friends 
of  their  souls  as  deeply  regretted  that  a prior  engage- 
ment prevented  their  having  the  honour  of  dining  with 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Podsnap,  in  pursuance  of  their  kind  invi- 
tation; and  that  Mrs.  Podsnap  said  of  all  these  incon- 
solable personages,  as  she  checked  them  off  with  a pen- 
cil in  her  list,  "Asked,  at  any  rate,  and  got  rid  of;”  and 
that  they  successfully  disposed  of  a good  many  friends 
of  their  souls  in  this  way,  and  felt  their  consciences 
much  lightened. 

There  were  still  other  friends  of  their  souls  who  were 
not  entitled  to  be  asked  to  dinner,  but  had  a claim  to  be 
invited  to  come  and  take  a haunch  of  mutton  vapour- 
bath  at  half -past  nine.  For  the  clearing  off  of  these 
worthies,  Mrs.  Podsnap  added  a small  and  early  evening 
to  the  dinner,  and  looked  in  at  the  music  shop  to  bespeak 
a well-conducted  automaton  to  come  and  play  quadrilles 
for  a carpet  dance. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Veneering,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Veneering’s 
bran-new  bride  and  bridegroom,  were  of  the  dinner  com- 
pany; but  the  Podsnap  establishment  had  nothing  else 
in  common  with  the  Veneerings.  Mr.  Podsnap  could 
tolerate  taste  in  a mushroom  man  who  stood  in  need  of 
that  sort  of  thing,  but  was  far  above  it  himself.  Hideous 
solidity  was  the  characteristic  of  the  Podsnap  plate. 
Everything  was  made  to  look  as  heavy  as  it  could,  and 
to  take  up  as  much  room  as  possible.  Everything  said 
boastfully,  " Here  you  have  as  much  of  me  in  my  ugli- 
ness a.s  if  I were  only  lead;  but  I am  so  many^ounces  of 
precious  metal  worth  so  much  an  ounce; — wouldn’t  you 
like  to  melt  me  down  ? ” A corpulent  straddling  epergne, 
blotched  all  over  as  if  it  had  broken  out  in  an  eruption 
rather  than  been  ornamented,  delivered  this  address 
from  an  unsightly  silver  platform  in  the  centre  of  the 
table.  Four  silver  wine-coolers,  each  furnished  with 
four  staring  heads,  each  head  obtrusively  carrying  a big 


PODSNAPPERY. 


139 


silver  ring  in  each  of  its  ears,  conveyed  the  sentiment 
up  and  down  the  table,  and  handed  it  on  to  the  pot-bel- 
lied silver  salt-cellars.  All  the  big  silver  spoons  and 
forks  widened  the  mouths  of  the  company  expressly  for 
the  purpose  of  thrusting  the  sentiment  down  their 
throats  with  every  morsel  they  ate. 

The  majority  of  the  guests  were  like  the  plate,  and 
included  several  heavy  articles  weighing  ever  so  much. 
But  there  was  a foreign  gentleman  among  them  : whom 
Mr.  Podsnap  had  invited  after  much  debate  with  him- 
self— believing  the  whole  European  continent  to  be  in 
mortal  alliance  against  the  young  person — and  there 
was  a droll  disposition,  not  only  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Pod- 
snap,  but  everybody  else,  to  treat  him  as  if  he  were  a 
child  who  was  hard  of  hearing. 

As  a delicate  concession  to  this  unfortunately-born 
foreigner,  Mr.  Podsnap,  in  receiving  him,  had  presented 
his  wife  as  '^Madame  Podsnap  also  his  daughter  as 
^^Mademoiselle  Podsnap,”  with  some  inclination  to  add 
^^ma  fille,”  in  which  bold  venture,  however,  he  checked 
himself.  The  Veneerings  being  at  that  time  the  only 
other  arrivals,  he  had  added  (in  a condescendingly  ex- 
planatory manner),  Monsieur  Vey-nair-reeng,”  and 
had  then  subsided  into  English. 

How  Do  You  Like  London  ? ” Mr.  Podsnap  now  in- 
quired from  his  station  of  host,  as  if  he  were  adminis- 
tering something  in  the  nature  of  a powder  or  potion  to 
the  deaf  child  ; London,  Londres,  London  ? ” 

The  foreign  gentleman  admired  it. 

''You  find  it  Very  Large  ?”  said  Mr.  Podsnap,  spaci- 
ously. 

The  foreign  gentleman  found  it  very  large. 

" And  Very  Rich  ? ” 

The  foreign  gentleman  found  it,  without  doubt  enor- 
mement  riche. 

"Enormously  Rich,  we  say,”  returned  Mr.  Podsnap, 
in  a condescending  manner.  " Our  English  adverbs  do 
Not  terminate  in  Mong,  and  We  Pronounce  the  ' ch’  as 
if  there  were  a ' t’  before  it.  We  Say  Ritch.” 

" Reetch,”  remarked  the  foreign  gentleman. 

"And  Do  You  Find,  Sir,”  pursued  Mr.  Podsnap,  with 
dignity,  "Many  Evidences  that  Strike  You,  of  our 
British  Constitution  in  the  Streets  Of  The  World’s  Me- 
tropolis^ London^  Londres,  London?” 


140 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


The  foreign  gentleman  begged  to  be  pardoned,  but 
did  not  altogether  understand. 

'^The  Constitution  Britannique,”  Mr.  Podsnap  ex- 
plained, as  if  he  were  teaching  in  an  infant  school. 

We  Say  British,  But  You  Say  Britannique,  You  Know” 
(forgivingly,  as  if  that  were  not  his  fault).  The  Con- 
stitution, Sir.” 

The  foreign  gentleman  said,  ^^Mais,  vees;  I know 
eom.” 

A youngish  sallowish  gentleman  in  spectacles,  wdth  a 
lumpy  forehead,  seated  in  a supplementary  chair  at  a 
corner  of  the  table,  here  caused  a profound  sensation 
by  saying,  in  a raised  voice,  Esker,”  and  then  stop- 
ping dead. 

Mais  oui,”  said  the  foreign  gentleman,  turning  to- 
wards him.  ^^Est-ce  que?  Quoi  done?” 

But  the  gentleman  with  the  lumpy  forehead  having 
for  the  time  delivered  himself  of  all  that  he  found  be- 
hind his  lumps,  spake  for  the  time  no  more. 

Was  Inquiring,”  said  Mr.  Podsnap,  resuming  the 
thread  of  his  discourse,  Whether  You  Have  Observed 
in  our  Streets  as  We  should  say,  Upon  our  Pavvy  as  You 
would  say,  any  Tokens— — ” 

The  foreign  gentleman,  with  patient  courtesy  en- 
treated pardon;  ^^But  what  was  tokenz?” 

Marks,”  said  Mr.  Podsnap;  Signs,  you  know.  Ap- 
pearances— Traces.  ” 

Ah!  of  a Orse?  ” inquired  the  foreign  gentleman. 

'‘We  call  it  Horse,”  said  Mr.  Podsnap,  with  forbear- 
ance. "In  England,  Angleterre,  England,  We  Aspirate 
the  ‘H,’  and  We  Say  ‘Horse.’  Only  our  Lower  Classes 
Say  ‘ Orse!  ’ ” 

‘‘Pardon,”  said  the  foreign  gentleman;  ‘‘I  am  alwiz 
wrong!  ” 

‘‘  Our  Language,”  said  Mr.  Podsnap,  with  a gracious 
consciousness  of  being  always  right,  ‘‘  is  Difficult. 
Ours  is  a Copious  Language,  and  Trying  to  Strangers. 
I will  not  Pursue  nfy  Question.” 

But  the  lumpy  gentleman,  unwilling  to  give  it  up, 
again  madly  said,  "Esker,”  and  again  spake  no 
more. 

‘‘  It  merely  referred,”  Mr.  Podsnap  explained,  with  a 
sense  of  meritorious  proprietorship,  ‘‘ to  Our  Constitu- 
tion, Sir.  We  Englishmen  are  Yery  Proud  of  Our  Con- 


PODSNAPPERY. 


141 


stitution,  Sir.  It  Was  Bestowed  Upon  Us  By  Prov- 
idence. No  Other  Country  is  so  Favored  as  This 
Country.’’ 

And  ozer  countries  ? — ” the  foreign  gentleman  was 
beginning,  when  Mr.  Podsnap  put  him  right  again. 

We  do  not  say  Oze':'  ; we  say  Other  : the  letters  are 
' T ’ and  ^ H ;’  You  say  Tay  and  Aish,  You  Know  ; (still 
with  clemency).  The  sound  is  ^ th  ’ — ^ th  ! ’” 

And  other  countries,”  said  the  foreign  gentleman. 

They  do  how  ?” 

They  do.  Sir,”  returned  Mr.  Podsnap,  gravely  shak- 
ing his  head  ; they  do — I am  sorry  to  be  obliged  to  say 
it — as  they  do;” 

^‘^It  was  a little  particular  of  Providence,”  said  the 
foreign  gentleman,  laughing  ; for  the  frontier  is  not 
large.” 

Undoubtedly,”  assented  Mr.  Podsnap;  ^^But  so  it 
is.  It  was  the  Charter  of  the  Land.  This  Island  was 
Blest,  Sir,  to  the  Direct  Exclusion  of  such  Other  Coun- 
tries as — as  there  may  happen  to  be.  And  if  .we  were 
all  Englishmen  present,  I would  say,”  added  Mr.  Pod- 
snap, looking  round  upon  his  compatriots,  and  sound- 
ing solemnly  with  his  theme,  ^‘^that  there  is  in  the  Eng- 
lishman a combination  of  qualities,  a modesty,  an  in- 
dependence, a responsibility,  a repose,  combined  with 
an  absence  of  everything  calculated  to  call  a blush  into 
the  cheek  of  a young  person,  which  one  would  seek  in 
vain  among  the  Nations  of  the  Earth.” 

Having  delivered  this  little  summary,  Mr.  Podsnap’s 
face  flushed  as  he  thought  of  the  remote  possibility  of 
its  being  at  all  qualified  by  any  prejudiced  citizen  of 
any  other  country  ; and,  with  his  favourite  right-arm 
flourish,  he  put  the  rest  of  Europe  and  the  whole  of 
Asia,  Africa,  and  America  nowhere. 

The  audience  were  much  edified  by  this  passage  of 
words  ; and  Mr.  Podsnap,  feeling  that  he  was  in  rather 
remarkable  force  to-day,  became  smiling  and  conver- 
sational. 

^^Has  anything  more  been  heard.  Veneering,”  he  in- 
quired, ‘^‘^of  the  lucky  legatee  ?” 

Nothing  more,”  returned  Veneering,  than  that  he 
has  come  into  possession  of  the  property.  I am  told 
people  now  call  him  The  Golden  Dustman.  I mentioned 
to  you  some  time  ago,  I think,  that  the  young  lady 


142 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


whose  intended  husband  was  murdered  is  daughter  to 
a clerk  of  mine  ? ’’ 

Yes,  you  told  me  that/’  said  Podsnap  ; and  by-the- 
bye,  I wish  you  would  tell  it  again  here,  for  it’s  a curi- 
ous coincidence — curious  that  the  first  news  of  the  dis- 
covery should  have  been  brought  straight  to  your  table 
(when  I was  there),  and  curious  that  one  of  your  people 
should  have  been  so  nearly  interested  in  it.  Just  relate 
that,  will  you  ? * 

Veneering  was  more  than  ready  to  do  it,  for  he  had 
prospered  exceedingly  upon  the  Harmon  Murder,  and 
had  turned  the  social  distinction  it  conferred  upon  him 
to  the  account  of  making  several  dozen  of  bran-new 
bosom-friends.  Indeed,  such  another  lucky  hit  would 
almost  have  set  him  up  in  that  way  to  his  satisfaction. 
So,  addressing  himself  to  the  most  desirable  of  his 
neighbours,  while  Mrs.  Veneering  secured  the  next 
most  desirable,  he  plunged  into  the  case,  and  emerged 
from  it  twenty  minutes  afterwards  with  a Bank  Direc- 
tor in  his  arms.  In  the  mean  time,  Mrs.  Veneering  had 
dived  into  the  same  waters  for  a wealthy  Ship-Broker, 
and  had  brought  him  up,  safe  and  sound,  by  the  hair. 
Then  Mrs.  Veneering  had  to  relate,  to  a larger  circle, 
how  she  had  been  to  see  the  girl,  and  how  she  was  really 
pretty,  and  (considering  her  station)  presentable.  And 
this  she  did  with  such  a successful  display  of  her  eight 
aquiline  fingers  and  their  encircling  jewels,  that  she 
happily  laid  hold  of  a drifting  General  Officer,  his  wife 
and  daughter,  and  not  only  restored  their  animation 
which  had  become  suspended,  but  made  them  lively 
friends  within  an  hour. 

Although  Mr.  Podsnap  would  in  a general  way  have 
highly  disapproved  of  Bodies  in  rivers  as  ineligible 
topics  with  reference  to  the  cheek  of  the  young  person, 
he  had,  as  one  may  say,  a share  in  this  affair  which 
made  him  a part  proprietor.  As  its  returns  were  imme- 
diate, too,  in  the  way  of  restraining  the  company  from 
speechless  contemplation  of  the  wine-coolers,  it  paid, 
and  he  was  satisfied. 

And  now  the  haunch  of  mutton  vapour-bath  having 
received  a gamey  infusion,  and  a few  last  touches  of 
sweets  and  coffee,  was  quite  ready,  and  the  bathers 
came  ; but  not  before  the  discreet  automaton  had  got 
behind  the  bars  of  the  piano  music-desk,  and  there 


FODSNAPPERY. 


143 


presented  the  appearance  of  a captive  languishing  in  a 
rosewood  jail.  And  who  now  so  pleasant  or  so  well  as- 
sorted as  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Alfred  Lammle,  he  all  sparkle, 
she  all  gracious  contentment,  both  at  occasional  inter- 
vals exchanging  looks  like  partners  at  cards  who  played 
a game  against  All  England. 

There  was  not  much  youth  among  the  bathers,  but 
there  was  no  youth  (the  young  person  always  excepted) 
in  the  articles  of  Podsnappery.  Bald  bathers  folded 
their  arms  and  talked  to  a Mr.  Podsnap  on  the  hearthrug; 
sleek-whiskered  bathers,  with  hats  in  their  hands, 
lunged  at  Mrs.  Podsnap  and  retreated;  prowling  bathers, 
went  about  looking  into  ornamental  boxes  and  bowls  as 
if  they  had  suspicions  of  larceny  on  the  part  of  the 
Podsnaps,  and  expected  to  find  something  they  had 
lost  at  the  bottom  ; bathers  of  the  gentler  sex  sat  silently 
comparing  ivory  shoulders.  All  this  time  and  always, 
poor  little  Miss  Podsnap,  whose  tiny  efforts  (if  she  had 
made  any)  were  swallowed  up  in  the  magnifience  of 
her  mother’s  rocking,  kept  herself  as  much  out  of  sight 
and  mind  as  she  could,  and  appeared  to  be  counting  on 
many  dismal  returns  of  the  day.  It  was  somehow  un- 
derstood, as  a secret  article  in  the  state  proprieties  of 
Podsnappery,  that  nothing  must  be  said  about  the  day. 
Consequently  this  young  damsel's  nativity  was  hushed 
up  and  looked  over,  as  if  it  were  agreed  on  all  hands  that 
it  would  have  been  better  that  she  had  never  been  born. 

The  Lammles  were  so  fond  of  the  dear  Venee rings 
that  they  could  not  for  some  time  detach  themselves 
from  those  excellent  friends;  but  at  length,  either  a very 
open  smile  on  Mr.  Lammle’s  part,  or  a very  secret 
elevation  of  one  of  his  gingerous  eyebrows — certainly 
the  one  or  the  other — seemed  to  say  to  Mr.  Lammle, 
^^Why  don’t  you  play?”  And  so,  looking  about  her, 
she  saw  Miss  Podsnap,  and  seeming  to  say  responsively, 

That  card?”  and  to  be  answered,  ^^xes,”  went  and 
sat  beside  Miss  Podsnap. 

Mrs.  Lammle  was  overjoyed  to  escape  into  a corner 
for  a little  quiet  talk. 

It  promised  to  be  a very  quiet  talk,  for  Miss  Podsnap 
replied  in  a flutter,  '^Oh!  Indeed,  it’s  very  kind  of  you, 
but  I am  afraid  I don^t  talk.” 

^“^Let  us  make  a beginning,”  said  the  insinuating 
Mrs.  Lammle,  with  her  best  smile. 


144 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


^'Oh!  I am  afraid  youdl  find  me  very  dull.  But  Ma 
talks 

That  was  plainly  to  be  seen,  for  Ma  was  talking  then 
at  her  usual  canter,  with  arched  head  and  mane,  opened 
eyes  and  nostrils. 

Fond  of  reading  perhaps  ? ’’ 

^‘^Yes.  At  least  I — doiTt  mind  that  so  much,^’  re- 
turned Miss  Podsnap. 


M — m — m — m — music.’’  So  insinuating  was  Mrs. 
Lammle  that  she  got  half  a dozen  ms  into  the  word 
before  she  got  it  out. 

haven’t  nerve  to  play  even  if  I could.  Ma 
plays.” 

(At  exactly  the  same  canter,  and  with  a certain 
flourishing  appearance  of  doing  something  Ma  did,  in 
fact,  occasionally  take  a rock  upon  the  instrument.) 

Of  course  you  like  dancing  ?” 

^^Oh  no,  I don’t,”  said  Miss  Podsnap. 

No  ? With  your  youth  and  attractions  ? Truly, 
my  dear,  you  surprise  me?  ” 

I can’t  say,”  observed  Miss  Podsnap,  after  hesitat- 
ing considerably,  and  stealing  several  timid  looks  at 
Mrs.  Lammle’s  carefully  arranged  face,  how  I might 
have  liked  it  if  I had  been  a — you  won’t  mention  it,  will 
you  ? ” 

' ^ My  dear ! N ever ! ” 

No,  I am  sure  you  won’t.  I can’t  say  then  how  I 
should  have  liked  it  if  I had  been  a chimney-sweep  on 
May-day.” 

Gracious!”  was  the  exclamation  which  amazement 
elicited  from  Mrs.  Lammle. 

There!  I knew  you’d  wonder.  But  you  won’t  men- 
tion it,  will  you  ? ” 

Upon  my  word,  my  love,”  said  Mrs.  Lammle,  you 
make  me  ten  times  more  desirous,  now  I talk  to  you,  to 
know  you  well  than  I was  when  I sat  over  yonder  look- 
ing at  you.  How  I wish  we  could  be  real  friends  ! Try 
me  as  a real  friend.  Come!  Don’t  fancy  me  a frumpy 
old  married  woman,  my  dear;  I was  married  but  the 
other  day,  you  know ; I am  dressed  as  a bride  now,  you 
see.  About  the  chimney-sweeps  ? ” 

Hush!  Ma’ll  hear.” 

She  can’t  hear  from  where  she  sits.” 

Don’t  you  be  too  sure  of  that,”  said  Miss  Podsnap, 


I^OBSNAPPERY.  i4S 

in  a lowei"  voice.  what  I mean  is  that  they 

seem  to  enjoy  iV’ 

And  that  perhaps  you  would  have  enjoyed  it,  if  you 
had  been  one  of  them?'' 

Miss  Podsnap  nodded  significantly. 

Then  you  don’t  enjoy  it  now?" 

How  is  it  possible?"  said  Miss  Podsnap.  Oh  it  is 
such  a dreadful  thing!  If  I was  wicked  enough — and 
strong  enough — to  kill  anybody,  it  should  be  my 
partner." 

This  was  such  an  entirely  new  view  of  the  Terpsichor- 
ean  art  as  socially  practised,  that  Mrs.  Lammle  looked 
at  her  young  friend  in  some  astonishment.  Her  young 
friend  sat  nervously  twiddling  her  fingers  in  a pinioned 
attitude,  as  if  she  were  trying  to  hide  her  elbows.  But 
this  latter  Utopian  object  (in  short  sleeves)  always  ap- 
peared to  be  the  great  inoffensive  aim  of  her  existence. 

It  sounds  horrid,  don't  it?"  said  Miss  Podsnap,  with 
a penitential  face. 

Mrs.  Lammle,  not  very  well  knowing  what  to  answer, 
resolved  herself  into  a look  of  smiling  encouragement. 

But  it  is,  as  it  always  has  been,"  pursued  Miss  Pod- 
snap, such  a trial  to  me!  I so  dread  being  awful. 
And  it  is  so  awful!  No  one  knows  what  I suffered  at 
Madame  Sauteuse's,  where  I learnt  to  dance  and  make 
presentation-curteseys,  and  other  dreadful  things — or  at 
least  where  they  tried  to  teach  me.  Ma  can  do  it.” 

At  any  rate,  my  love,"  said  Mrs.  Lammle,  sooth- 
ingly, that's  over." 

Yes,  its  over,"  returned  Miss  Podsnap,  ''but  there’s 
nothing  gained  by  that.  It’s  worse  here  than  at 
Madame  Sauteuse's.  Ma  was  there,  and  Ma’s  here;  but 
Pa  wasn't  there,  and  company  wasn’t  there,  and  there 
were  not  real  partners  there.  Oh  there’s  Ma  speaking 
to  the  man  at  the  piano!  Oh  there’s  Ma  going  up  to 
somebody!  Oh  I know  she’s  going  to  bring  him  to  me! 
Oh  please  don’t,  please  don’t,  please  don’t!  Oh  keep 
away,  keep  away,  keep  away ! ’’  These  pious  ejaculations 
Miss  Podsnap  uttered  with  her  eyes  closed,  and  her  head 
leaning  back  against  the  wall. 

But  the  Ogre  advanced  under  the  pilotage  of  Ma,  and 
Ma  said,  "Georgiana,  Mr.  Grompus,"  and  the  Ogre 
clutched  his  victim  and  bore  her  off  to  his  castle  in  the 
top  couple.  Then  the  discreet  automaton  who  had 

VOL.  I,  10 


146 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


surveyed  liis  ground,  played  a blossomless  tuneless 
' ' set,  ’’  and  sixteen  disciples  of  Podsnappery  went  through 
the  figures  of  — 1,  Getting  up  at  eight  and  shaving  close 
at  a quarter  past — 2,  Breakfasting  at  nine — 3,  Going  to 
the  City  at  ten — 4,  Coming  home  at  half  past  five — 5, 
Dining  at  seven,  and  the  grand  chain. 

While  these  solemnities  were  in  progress;  Mr.  Alfred 
Lammle  (most  loving  of  husbands)  approached  the 
chair  of  Mrs.  Alfred  Lammle  (most  loving  of  wives), 
and  bending  over  the  back  of  it,  trifled  for  some  few 
seconds  with  Mrs.  Lammle’s  bracelet.  Slightly  in 
contrast  with  this  brief  airy  toying,  one  might  have 
noticed  a^  certain  dark  attention  in  Mrs.  Lammle’s  face 
as  she  said  some  words  with  her  eyes  on  Mr.  Lammle’s 
waistcoat,  and  seemed  in  return  to  receive  some  lesson. 
But  it  was  all  done  as  a breath  passes  from  a mirror. 

And  now,  the  grand  chain  riveted  to  the  last  link,  the 
discreet  automaton  ceased,  and  the  sixteen,  two  and 
two,  took  a walk  among  the  furniture.  And  herein  the 
unconsciousness  of  the  Ogre  Grompus  was  pleasantly 
conspicuous  ; for,  that  complacent  monster,  believing 
that  he  was  giving  Miss  Podsnap  a treat,  prolonged  to 
the  utmost  stretch  of  possibility  a peripatetic  account 
of  an  archery  meeting ; while  his  victim,  heading  the 
procession  of  sixteen  as  it  slowly  circled  about,  like  a 
revolving  funeral,  never  raised  her  eyes  except  once  to 
steal  a glance  at  Mrs.  Lammle,  expressive  of  intense 
despair. 

At  length  the  procession  was  dissolved  by  the  violent 
arrival  of  a nutmeg,  before  which  the  drawing-room 
door  bounced  open  as  if  it  were  a cannon-ball;  and 
while  that  fragrant  article,  dispersed  through  several 
glasses  of  coloured  warm  water,  was  going  the  round 
of  society,  Miss  Podsnap  returned  to  her  seat  by  her 
new  friend. 

^^Oh  my  goodness,”  said  Miss  Podsnap.  Thafs 
over  ! I hope  you  didn’t  look  at  me.” 

My  dear,  why  not  ?” 

Oh  I know  all  about  myself,”  said  Miss  Podsnap. 

^^ril  tell  you  something  / know  about  you,  my  dear,” 
returned  Mrs.  Lammle  in  her  winning  way,  ^^and  that 
is,  you  are  most  unnecessarily  shy.” 

''  Ma  ain’t,”  said  Miss  Podsnap.  '' — I detest  you  ! Go 
along '!  ” This  shot  was  levelled  under  her  breath  at  the 


PODSNAPPERY. 


11? 


gallant  Grompus  for  bestowing  an  insinuating  smile 
upon  her  in  passing. 

Pardon  me  if  I scai^cely  see,  my  dear  Miss  Pod- 
snap,’’  Mrs.  Lammle  was  beginning  wheit  the  young 
lady  interposed. 

If  we  are  going  to  be  real  friends  (and  I suppose  we 
are,  for  you  are  the  only  person  who  ever  proposed  it), 
don’t  let  us  be  awful.  It’s  awful  enough  to  he  Miss 
Podsnap,  without  being  called  so.  Call  me  Georgiana. 

Dearest  Georgiana,”  Mrs.  Lammle  began  again. 

Thank  you,”  said  Miss  Podsnap. 

Dearest  Georgiana,  pardon  me  if  I scarcely  see,  my 
love,  why  your  mamma’s  not  being  shy,  is  a reason  why 
you  should  be.” 

Don’t  you  really  see  that?”  asked  Miss  Podsnap, 
plucking  at  her  fingers  in  a troubled  manner,  and  fur- 
tively casting  her  eyes  now  on  Mrs.  Lammle,  now  on 
the  ground.  Then,  perhaps,  it  isn’t?” 

^^My  dearest  Georgiana,  you  defer  much  too  readily 
to  my  poor  opinion.  Indeed  it  is  not  even  an  opinion, 
darling,  for  it  is  only  a confession  of  my  dulness.” 

^^Oh,  you  are  not  dull,  returned  Miss  Podsnap.  ‘‘I 
am  dull,  but  you  couldn’t  have  made  me  talk  if  you 
were.” 

Some  little  touch  of  conscience  answering  this  per- 
ception of  her  having  gained  a purpose,  called  bloom 
enough  into  Mrs.  Lammle’s  face  to  make  it  look  brighter 
as  she  sat  smiling  her  best  smile  on  her  dear  Georgiana, 
and  shaking  her  head  with  an  affectionate  playfulness. 
Not  that  it  meant  anything,  but  that  Georgiana  seemed 
to  like  it. 

What  I mean  is,”  pursued  Georgiana,  ^Ghat  Ma 
being  so  endowed  with  awfulness,  and  Pa  being 
so  endowed  with  infiuence,  and  there  being  so  much 
awfulness  everywhere — I mean,  at  least,  everywhere 
where  I am  — perhaps  it  makes  me  who  am  so  defi- 
cient in  awfulness,  and  frightened  at  it — I say  it  very 
badly — I don’t  know  whether  you  can  understand  what 
I mean?” 

Perfectly,  dearest  Georgiana!”  Mrs.  Lammle  was 
proceeding  with  every  reassuring  wile,  when  the  head 
of  that  young  lady  suddenly  wentLack  against  the  wall 
again  and  her  eyes  closed. 

‘^^Oh,  there’s  Ma  being  awful  with  somebody  with  a 


148 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


glass  in  his  eye ! Oh  I know  she’s  going  to  bring  him 
here!  Oh,  don’t  bring  him— don’t  bring  him!  Oh  he’ll  be 
my  partner  with  his  glass  in  his  eye ! Oh  what  shall  I 
do!  ” This  time  Georgiana  accompanied  her  ejaculations 
with  taps  of  her  feet  upon  the  floor,  and  was  altogether  in 
quite  a desperate  condition.  But,  there  was  no  escape 
from  the  niaj  estic  Mrs.  Podsnap’s  production  of  an  ambl- 
ing stranger,  with  one  eye  screwed  up  into  extinction  and 
the  other  framed  and  glazed,  who,  having  looked  down 
out  of  that  organ,  as  if  he  descried  Miss  Podsnap  at  the 
bottom  of  some  perpendicular  shaft,  brought  her  to  the 
surface,  and  ambled  off  with  her.  And  then  the  cap- 
tive at  the  piano  played  another  ‘^set,”  expressive  of  his 
mournful  aspirations  after  freedom,  and  other  sixteen 
went  through  the  former  melancholy  motions,  and  the 
ambler  took  Miss  Podsnap  for  a furniture  walk,  as  if  he 
had  struck  out  an  entirely  original  conception. 

In  the  mean  time  a stray  personage  of  a meek  de- 
meanour, who  had  wandered  to  the  hearthrug  and  got 
among  the  heads  of  tribes  assembled  there  in  conference 
with  Mr.  Podsnap,  eliminated  Mr.  Podsnap’s ‘flush  and 
flourish  by  a highly  unpolite  remark;  no  less  than  a ref- 
erence to  the  circumstance  that  some  half-dozen  people 
had  lately  died  in  the  streets,  of  starvation.  It  was 
clearly  ill-timed  after  dinner.  It  was  not  adapted  to  the 
cheek  of  the  young  person.  It  was  not  in  good  taste. 

I don’t  believe  it,”  said  Mr.  Podsnap,  putting  it  be- 
hind him. 

The  meek  man  was  afraid  we  must  take  it  as  proved, 
because  there  were  the  Inquests  and  the  Registrar’s 
returns. 

Then  it  was  fheir  own  fault,”  said  Mr.  Podsnap. 

Veneering  and  other  elders  of  tribes  commended  this 
way  out  of  it.  At  once  a short  cut  and  a broad 
road. 

The  man  of  meek  demeanour  intimated  that  truly  it 
would  seem  from  the  facts,  as  if  starvation  had  been 
forced  upon  the  culprits  in  question — as  if,  in  their 
wretched  manner,-  they  had  made  their  weak  protests 
against  it — as  if  they  would  have  taken  the  liberty  of 
starving  it  off  if  they  could — as  if  they  would  rather  not 
have  been  starved  upon  the  whole,  if  perfectly  agree- 
able to  all  parties. 

There  is  not,”  said  Mr.  Podsnap,  flushing  angrily. 


PODSNAPPERY. 


149 


there  is  not  a country  in  the  world,  sir,  where  so  noble 
a provision  is  made  for  the  poor  as  in  this  country.’’ 

The»  meek  man  was  quite  willing  to  concede  that,  but 
perhaps  it  rendered  the  matter  even  worse,  as  showing 
that  there  piust  be  something  appallingly  wrong  some- 
where. 

Where  ?”  said  Mr.  Podsnap. 

The  meek  man  hinted.  Wouldn’t  it  be  well  to  try,  very 
seriously,  to  find  out  where  ? 

Ah  ! ” said  Mr.  Podsnap.  Easy  to  say  somewhere; 
not  so  easy  to  say  where  ! But  I see  what  you  are 
driving  at.  I knew  it  from  the  first.  Centralization. 
ISTo.  Never  with  my  consent.  Not  English. 

An  approving  murmur  arose  from  the  heads  of  tribes; 
as  saying,  There  you  have  him  ! Hold  him  ! ” 

He  was  not  aware  (the  meek  man  submitted  of  him- 
self) that  he  was  driving  at  any  ization.  He  had  no 
favorite  ization  that  he  knew  of.  But  he  certainly  was 
more  staggered  by  these  terrible  occurrences  than  he 
was  by  names,  of  howsoever  so  many  syllables.  Might 
he  ask,  was  dying  of  destitution  and  neglect  necessarily 
English  ? 

^Wou  know  what  the  population  of  London  is,  I sup- 
pose,” said  Mr,  Podsnap. 

The  meek  man  supposed  he  did,  but  supposed  that 
had  absolutely  nothing  to  do  with  it,  if  its  laws  were 
well  administered. 

And  you  know;  at  least  I hope  you  know;”  said  Mr. 
Podsnap,  with  severity,  ^^that  Providence  has  declared 
that  you  shall  have  the  poor  always  with  you  ? ” 

The  meek  man  also  hoped  he  knew  that. 

am  glad  to  hear  it,”  said  Mr.  Podsnap  with  a por- 
tentious  air.  I am  glad  to  hear  it.  It  will  render  you 
cautious  how  you  fiy  in  the  face  of  Providence.” 

In  reference  to  that  absurd  and  irreverent  conven- 
tional phrase,  the  meek  man  said,  for  which  Mr.  Pod- 
snap was  not  responsible,  he  the  meek  man  had  no  fear 
of  doing  anything  so  impossible  ; but 

But  Mr.  Podsnap  felt  that  the  time  had  come  for 
flushing  and  flourishing  this  meek  man  down  for  good. 
So  he  said  : 

‘^1  must  decline  to  pursue  this  painful  discussion.  It 
is  not  pleasant  to  my  feelings ; it  is  repugnant  to  my 
feelings.  I have  said  that  I do  not  admit  these  things. 


150^ 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


I have  also  said  that  if  they  do  occur  (not  that  I admit 
it),  the  fault  lies  with  the  sufferers  themselves.  It  is 
not  for  — Mr.  Podsnap  pointed  ^‘^me’’  forcibly,  as 

adding  by  implication  though  it  may  be  all  very  well 
for  you — ^At  is  not  for  me  to  impugn  the  workings  of. 
Providence.  I know  better  than  that,  I trust,  and  I 
have  mentioned  what  the  intentions  of  Providence  are. 
Besides,’’  said  Mr.  Podsnap,  flushing  high  up  among  his 
hair-brushes,  with  a strong  consciousness  of  personal 
affront,  the  subject  is  a very  disagreeable  one.  I will 
go  so  far  as  to  say  it  is  an  odious  one.  It  is  not  one  to 
be  introduced  among  our  wives  and  young  persons,  and 

I ” He  flnished  with  that  flourish  of  his  arm  which 

added  more  expressively  than  any  words.  And  I remove 
it  from  the  face  of  the  earth. 

Simultaneously  with  this  quenching  of  the  meek 
man’s  ineffectual  Are,  Georgiana  having  left  the  ambler 
up  a lane  of  sofa,  in  a No  Thoroughfare  of  back  draw- 
ing-room, to  And  his  own  way  out,  came  back  to  Mrs. 
Lammle.  And  who  should  be  with  Mrs.  Lammle,  but 
Mr.  Lammle.  So  fond  of  her  ! 

Alfred,  my  love,  here  is  my  friend.  Georgiana, 
dearest  girl,  you  must  like  my  husband  next  to 
me.” 

Mr.  Lammle  was  proud  to  be  so  soon  distinguished  by 
this  special  commendation  to  Miss  Podsnap’s  favour. 
But  if  Mr.  Lammle  were  prone  to  be  jealous  of  his  dear 
Sophronia’s  friendships,  he  would  be  jealous  of  her  feel- 
ing towards  Miss  Podsnap. 

^^Say  Georgiana,  darling,”  interposed  his  wife. 

^ ^ Towards  — shall  I ? — Georgiana.  ” Mr.  Lammle 
uttered  the  name  with  a delicate  curve  of  his  right 
hand,  from  his  lips  outward.  For  never  have  I known 
Sophronia  (who  is  not  apt  to  take  sudden  likings)  so 
attracted  and  so  captivated  as  she  is  by — ^shall  I once 
more  ? — Georgiana.” 

The  object  of  this  homage  sat  uneasily  enough  in  re- 
ceipt of  it,  and  then  said,  turning  to  Mrs.  Lammle, 
much  embarrassed  : 

wonder  what  you  like  me  for  ! I am  sure  I can’t 
think.” 

'^Dearest  Georgiana,  for  yourself.  For  your  differ- 
ence from  all  around  you.” 

^^Well!  That  may  be.  For  I think  I like  you  for 


PODSNAPPERY.  151 

your  difference  from  all  around  me/’  said  Georgiana 
with  a smile  of  relief. 

''We  must  be  going  with  the  rest/’  observed  Mrs.  Lam- 
mle,  rising  with  a show  of  unwillingness^  amidst  a gener- 
al dispersal.  "We  are  real  friends,  Georgiana,  dear  ?” 

"Real.” 

" Good  night,  dear  girl ! ” 

She  had  established  an  attraction  over  the  shrinking 
nature  upon  which  her  smiling  eyes  were  fixed,  for 
Georgiana  held  her  hand  while  she  answered  in  a secret 
and  half -frightened  tone: 

"Don’t  forget  me  when  you  are  gone  away.  And 
come  again  soon,  Good-night!” 

Charming  to  see  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lammle  taking  leave 
so  gracefully,  and  going  down  the  stairs  so  lovingly 
and  sweetly,  Not  quite  so  charming  to  see  their  smil- 
ing faces  fall  and  brood  as  they  dropped  moodily  into 
separate  corners  of  their  little  carriage.  But  to  be  sure 
that  was  a sight  behind  the  scenes,  which  nobody  saw, 
and  which  nobody  was  meant  to  see. 

Certain  big,  heavy  vehicles,  built  on  the  model  of  the 
Podsnap  plate,  took  away  the  heavy  articles  of  guests 
weighing  ever  so  much;  and  the  less  valuable  articles 
got  away  after  their  various  manners;  and  the  Podsnap 
plate  was  put  to  bed.  As  Mr.  Podsnap  stood  with  his 
back  to  the  drawing-room  fire,  pulling  up  his  shirt-col- 
lar, like  a veritable  cock  of  the  walk  literally  pluming 
himself  in  the  midst  of  his  possessions,  nothing  would 
have  astonished  him  more  than  an  intimation  that  Miss 
Podsnap,  or  any  other  young  person  properly  born  and 
bred,  could  not  be  exactly  put  away  like  the  plate, 
brought  out  like  the  plate,  polished  like  the  plate, 
counted,  weighed  and  valued  like  the  plate.  That  such 
a young  person  could  possibly  have  a morbid  vacancy 
in  the  heart  for  anything  younger  than  the  plate,  or  less 
monotonous  than  the  plate;  or  that  such  a young  per- 
son’s thoughts  could  try  to  scale  the  region  bounded  on 
the  north,  south,  east,  and  west,  by  the  plate;  was  a 
monstrous  imagination  which  he  would  on  the  spot 
have  flourished  into  space.  This  perhaps  in  some  sort 
arose  from  Mr.  Podsnap’s  blushing  young  person  being, 
so  to  speak,  all  cheek:  whereas  there  is  a possibility 
that  there  may  be  young  persons  of  a rather  more  com- 
plex organization. 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND* 


152 

If  Mr.  Podsnap^  pulling  up  liis  shirt-collar,  could  only 
have  heard  himself  called  ‘^'that  fellow’’  in  a certain 
short  dialogue,  which  passed  between  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Lammle  in  their  opposite  corners  of  their  little  carriage, 
rolling  home! 

^^Sophronia,  are  you  awake?” 

''Am  I likely  to  be  asleep,  sir?” 

"Very  likely,  I should  think,  after  that  fellow’s  com- 
pany. Attend  to  what  I am  going  to  say.” 

" I have  attended  to  what  you  have  already  said,  have 
I not  ? What  else  have  I been  doing  all  to-night  ? ” 

"Attend,  I tell  you”  (in  a raised  voice),  "to  what  I 
am  going  to  say.  Keep  close  to  that  idiot  girl.  Keep 
her  under  your  thumb.  You  have  her  fast,  and  you  are 
not  to  let  her  go.  Do  you  hear  ? ” 

" I hear  you.” 

"I  forsee  there  is  money  to  be  made  out  of  this, 
besides  taking  that  fellow  down  a peg.  We  owe  each 
other  money,  you  know.” 

Mrs.  Lammle  winced  a little  at  the  reminder,  but  only 
enough  to  shake  her  scents  and  essences  anew  into 
the  atmosphere  of  the  little  carriage,  as  she  settled  her- 
self afresh  in  her  own  dark  corner. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  SWEAT  OF  AN  HONEST  MAN’S  BROW. 

Mr.  MORTIMER  LIGHTWOOD  and  Mr.  Eugene 
Wrayburn  took  a coffee-house  dinner  together  in 
Mr.  Lightwood’s  office.  They  had  newly  agreed  to  set 
up  a joint  establishment  together.  They  had  taken  a 
bachelor  cottage  near  Hampton,  on  the  brink  of  the 
Thames,  with  a lawn,  and  a boat-house,  and  all  things 
fitting,  and  were  to  float  with  the  stream  through  the 
summer  and  the  Long  Vacation. 

It  was  not  summer  yet,  but  spring ; and  it  was  not 
gentle  spring  ethereally  mild,  as  in  Thomson’s  Seasons, 
but  nipping  spring  wth  an  easterly  wind,  as  in  Johnson’s, 
Jackson’s,  Dickson’s,  Smith’s,  and  Jones’s  Seasons.  The 
grating  wind  sawed  rather  than  blew;  and  as  it  sawed, 
the  sawdust  whirled  about  the  sawpit.  Every  street  was 


SWEAT  OF  AN  HONEST  MAN’S  BROW.  153 


a sawpit,  and  there  were  no  top-sawyers ; every  pas- 
senger was  an  under-sawyer^  with  the  sawdust  blind- 
ing him  and  choking  him. 

That  mysterious  paper  currency  which  circulates  in 
London  when  the  wind  blows,  gyrated  here  and  there 
and  everywhere.  Whence  can  it  come,  whither  can  it 
go  ? It  hangs  on  every  bush,  flutters  in  every  tree,  is 
caught  flying  by  the^  electric  wires,  haunts  every  en- 
closure, drinks  at  every  pump,  cowers  at  every  grating, 
shudders  upon  every  plot  of  grass,  seeks  rest  in  vain 
behind  the  legions  of  iron  rails.  In  Paris,  where  nothing 
is  wasted,  costly  and  luxurious  city  though  it  be,  but 
where  wonderful  human  ants  creep  out  of  holes  and  pick^ 
up  every  scrap,  there  is  no  such  thing.  There,  it  blows 
nothing  but  dust.  There,  sharp  eyes  and  sharp  stomachs 
reap  even  the  east  wind,  and  get  something  out 
of  it. 

The  wind  sawed,  and  the  sawdust  whirled.  The 
shrubs  wrung  their  many  heads,  bemoaning  that  they 
had  been  over-persuaded  by  the  sun  to  bud;  the  young 
leaves  pined;  the  sparrows  repented  of  their  early  mar- 
riages, like  mem  and  women;  the  colours  of  the  rainbow 
were  discernible,  not  in  floral  spring,  but  in  the  faces  of 
the  people  whom  it  nibbled  and  pinched.  And  ever  the 
wind  sawed,  and  the  sawdust  whirled. 

When  the  spring  evenings  are  too  long  and  light  to 
shut  out,  and  such  weather  is  rife,  the  city  which  Mr. 
Podsnap  so  explanatorily  called  London,  Londres,  Lon- 
don, is  at  its  worst.  Such  a black  shrill  city,  combining 
the  qualities  of  a smoky  house  and  a scolding  wife; 
such  a gritty  city;  such  a hopeless  city,  with  no  rent  in 
the  leaden  canopy  of  its  sky;  such  a beleaguered  city, 
invested  by  the  great  Marsh  Forces  of  Essex  and  Kent. 
So  the  two  old  school-fellows  felt  it  to  be,  as,  their  din- 
ner done,  they  turned  towards  the  Are  to  smoke.  Young 
Blight  was  gone,  the  coffee-house  waiter  was  gone,  the 
plates  and  dishes  were  gone,  the  wine  was  going — but 
not  in  the  same  direction. 

The  wind  sounds  up  here,”  quoth  Eugene,  stirring 
the  Are,  ^^as  if  we  were  keeping  a lighthouse.  I wish 
we  were.” 

Don’t  you  think  it  would  bore  us?”  Light  wood 
asked. 

Not  more  than  any  other  place.  And  there  would  be 


154  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

no  Circuit  to  go.  But  that’s  a selfish  consideration,  per- 
sonal to  me.” 

''And  no  clients  to  come,”  added  Lightwood.  "Not 
that  that’s  a selfish  consideration  at  all  personal  tome/' 

"If  we  were  on  an  isolated  rock  in  a stormy  sea,” 
said  Eugene,  smoking  with  his  eyes  on  the  fire,  " Lady 
Tippins  couldn’t  put  off  to  visit  us,  or,  better  still,  might 
put  off  and  get  swamped.  People  couldn’t  ask  one  to 
wedding  breakfasts.  There  would  be  no  Precedents  to 
hammer  at,  except  the  plain-sailing  Precedent  of  keep- 
ing the  light  up.  It  would  be  exciting  to  look  out  for 
wrecks.” 

^ " But  otherwise,”  suggested  Lightwood,  " there  might 
be  a degree  of  sameness  in  the  life.” 

" I have  thought  of  that  also,”  said  Eugene,  as  if  he 
really  had  been  considering  the  subject  in  its  various 
bearings  with  an  eye  to  the  business  ; " but  it  would  be  a 
defined  and  limited  monotony.  It  would  not  extend 
beyond  two  people.  Now,  it’s  a question  with  me, 
Mortimer,  whether  a monotony  defined  with  that  pre- 
cision and  liihited  to  that  extent,  might  not  be  more 
endurable  than  the  unlimited  monotony  of  one’s  fellow- 
creatures.” 

As  Lightwood  laughed  and  passed  the  wine,  he 
remarked,  "We  shall  have  an  opportunity,  in  our  boating 
summer,  of  trying  the  question.” 

"An  imperfect  one,”  Eugene  acquiesced, with  a sigh, 
"but  so  we  shall,  I hope  we  may  not  prove  too  much 
for  one  another.’^ 

" Now,  regarding  your  respected  father,”  said  Light- 
wood, bringing  him  to  a subject  they  had  expressly 
appointed  to  discuss ; always  the  most  slippery  eel  of 
eels  of  subjects  to  lay  hold  of. 

"Yes,  regarding  my  respected  father,”  assented 
Eugene,  settling  himself  in  his  arm-chair.  " I would 
rather  have  approached  my  respected  father  by  candle- 
light, as  a theme  requiring  a little  artificial  brilliancy  ; 
but  we  will  take  him  by  twilight,  enlivened  with  a glow 
of  Wallsend.” 

He  stirred  the  fire  again  as  he  spoke,  and  having 
made  it  blaze,  resumed. 

" Mv  respected  father  has  found,  down  in  the  parental 
neighborhood,  a wife  for  his  not-generally-respected 
son,” 


SWEAT  OF  AN  HONEST  MAN'S  BROW.  155 


“ With  some  money,  of  course  ?’’ 

With  some  money,  of  course,  or  he  would  not  have 
found  her.  My  respected  father — let  me  shorten  the 
dutiful  tautology  by  substituting  in  future  M.  R.  F., 
which  sounds  military,  and  rather  like  the  Duke  of 
Wellington.’’ 

What  an  absurd  fellow  you  are,  Eugene  !” 

Not  at  all,  I assure  you.  M.  R.  F.,  having  always 
in  the  clearest  manner  provided  (as  he  calls  it)  for  his 
children  by  pre-arranging  from  the  hour  of  the  birth  of 
each,  and  sometimes  from  an  earlier  period,  what  the 
devoted  little  victim’s  calling  and  course  in  life  should 
be,  M.  R.  F.,  pre-arranged  for  myself  that  I was  to  be  the 
barrister  I am  (with  the  slight  addition  of  an  enormous 
practice,  which  has  not  accrued),  and  also  the  married 
man  I am  not.” 

The  first  you  have  often  told  me.” 

The  first  I have  often  told  you.  Considering  myself 
sufficiently  incongruous  on  my  legal  eminence,  I have 
until  now  suppressed  my  domestic  destiny.  You  know 
M.  R.  F.,  but  not  as  well  as  I do.  If  you  knew  him  as 
well  asT  do,  he  would  amuse  you.” 

''Filially  spoken,  Eugene!” 

" Perfectly  so,  believe  me  ; and  with  every  sentiment 
of  affectionate  deference  towards  M.  R.  F.  But  if  he 
amuses  me,  I can’t  help  it.  When  my  eldest  brother 
was  born,  of  course  the  rest  of  us  knew  (I  mean  the  rest 
of  us  would  have  known,  if  we  had  been  in  existence) 
that  he  was  heir  to  the  Family  Embarrassments — we 
call  it  before  company  the  Family  Estate.  But  when 
my  second  "brother  was  going  to  be  born  by-and-by, 
'this,’  says  M.  R.  F.,  'is  a little  pillar  of  the  church.’ 
TFas  born,  and  became  a pillar  of  the  church ; a very 
shaky  one.  My  third  brother  appeared,  considerably 
in  advance  of  his  engagement  to  my  mother;  but  M.  R. 
F.,  not  at  all  put  out  by  surprise,  instantly  declared  him 
a Circumnavigator.  Was  pitchforked  into  the  Navy, 
but  has  not  circumnavigated.  I announced  myself,  and 
was  disposed  of  with  the  highly  satisfactory  results  em- 
bodied before  you.  When  my  younger  brother  was  half 
an  hour  old,  it  was  settled  by  M.  R.  F.  that  he  should 
have  a mechanical  genius.  And  so  on.  Therefore  I 
say  that  M.  R.  F.  amuses  me.” 

" Touching  the  lady,  Eugene.” 


156 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEUD. 


There  M.  R.  F.  ceases  to  be  amusing,  because  my 
intentions  are  opposed  to  touching  the  lady/^ 

Do  you  know  her  ? ” 

Not  in  the  least.” 

Hadn’t  you  better  see  her  ?” 

^^My  dear  Mortimer,  you  have  studied  my  character. 
Could  I possibly  go  down  there,  labelled  ^ Eligible.  On 
VIEW,’  and  meet  the  lady,  similarly  labelled  ? Anything 
to  carry  out  M.  R.  F.’s  arrangements,  I am  sure,  with 
the  greatest  pleasure — except  matrimony.  Could  I pos- 
sibly support  it  ? I,  so  soon  bored,  so  constantly,  so 
fatally  ? ” 

^^But  you  are, not  a consistent  fellow,  Eugene.” 

In  susceptibility  to  boredom,”  returned  that  worthy, 

I assure  you  I am  the  most  consistent ‘of  mankind.” 

Why,  it  was  but  now  that  you  were  dwelling  on  the 
advantages  of  a monotony  of  two.” 

In  a lighthouse.  Do  me  the  justice  to  remember  the 
condition.  In  a lighthouse.” 

Mortimer  laughed  again,  and  Eugene,  having  laughed 
too  for  the  first  time,  as  if  he  found  himself  on  reflection 
rather  entertaining,  relapsed  into  his  usual  gloom,  and 
drowsily  said,  as  he  enjoyed  his  cigar,  ^^No,  there  is 
no  help  for  it;  one  of  the  prophetic  deliveries  of  M.  R. 
F.  must  for  ever  remain  unfulfilled.  With  every  dispo- 
sition to  oblige  him,  he  must  submit  to  a failure.” 

It  had  grown  darker  as  they  talked,  and  the  wind 
was  sawing  and  the  sawdust  was  whirling  outside  paler 
windows.  The  underlying  churchyard  was  already 
settling  into  deep  dim*shade,  and  the  shade  was  creeping 
up  to  th^e  housetops  among  which  they  sat.  As  if,”  said 
Eugene,  ^^as  if  the  churchyard  ghosts  were  rising.” 

He  had  walked  to  the  window  with  his  cigar  in  his 
mouth,  to  exalt  its  flavour  by  comparing  the  fireside 
with  the  outside,  when  he  stopped  midway  on  his  return 
to  his  armchair,  and  said: 

Apparently  one  of  the  ghosts  has  lost  its  way,  and 
dropped  in  to  be  directed.  Look  at  this  phantom!  ” 

Lightwood,  whose  back  was  towards  the  door,  turned 
his  head,  and  there,  in  darkness  of  the  entry,  stood  a 
something  in  the  likeness  of  a man:  to  whom  he 
addressed  the  not  irrelevant  inquiry,  Who  the  devil 
are  you  ? ” 

^^I  ask  your  pardons.  Governors,”  replied  the  ghost. 


SWEAT  OE  AK  HONEST  MAFS  BROW.  15^ 


in  a hoarse  doubled  - barrelled  whisper,  '^but  might 
either  on  you  be  Lawyer  Lightwood  ? ’’ 

^'What  do  you  mean  by  not  knocking  at  the  door 
demanded  Mortimer. 

ask  your  pardons,  Governors,’’  replied  the  ghost, 
as  before,  ^'but  probable  you  was  not  aware  your  door 
stood  open.” 

What  do  you  want  ?” 

Hereunto  the  ghost  again  hoarsely  replied  in  its 
double-barreled  manner,  I ask  your  pardons,  Gover- 
nors, but  might  one  on  you  be  Lawyer  Lightwood  ? ” 

One  of  us  is,”  said  the  owner  of  that  name. 

All  right.  Governors  Both,”  returned  the  ghost, 
carefully  closing  the  room  door  ; tickler  business.” 

Mortimer  lighted  the  candles.  They  showed  the 
visitor  to  be  an  ill-looking  visitor  with  a squinting  leer, 
who,  as  he  spoke,  fumbled  at  an  old  sodden  fur  cap, 
formless  and  mangey,  that  looked  like  a furry  animal, 
dog  or  cat,  puppy  or  kitten,  drowned  and  decaying. 

Now,”  said  Mortimer,  what  is  it  ?” 

‘^Governors  Both,”  returned  the  man,  in. what  he 
meant  to  be^a  wheedling  tone,  which  on  you  might 
be  Lawyer  Lightwood  ? ” 
am.” 

Lawyer  Lightwood,”  ducking  at  him  with  a servile 
air,  I am  a man  as  gets  my  living,  and  as  seeks  to  get 
my  living,  by  the  sweat  of  mybrow.  Not  to  risk  being 
done  out  of  the  sweat  of  my  brow,  by  any  chances,  I 
should  wish  afore  going  further  to  be  swore  in,” 

‘G  am  not  a swearer  in  of  people,  man.” 

The  visitor,  clearly  anything  but  reliant  on  this  as- 
surrance,  doggedly  muttered  ‘^Alfred  David.” 

Is  that  your  name  ?”  asked  Lightwood. 

^^My  name?”  returned  the  man.  ^^No;  I want  to 
take  a Alfred  David.” 

(Which  Eugene,  smoking  and  contemplating  him, 
interpreted  as  meaning  Affidavit.) 

tell  you,  my  good  fellow,”  said  Lightwood,  with 
his  indolent  laugh,  ^^thatlhave  nothing  to  do  with 
swearing.” 

^“^He  can  swear  at  you.”  Eugene  explained;  ^'and  so 
can  I.  But  we  can’t  do  more  for  you.” 

Much  discomfited  by  this  information,  the  visitor 
turned  the  drowned  dog  or  cat,  puppy  or  kitten,  about 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


158 

and  about,  and  looked  from  one  of  the  Governors  Both 
to  the  other  of  the  Governors  Both,  while  he  deeply 
considered  within  himself.  At  length  he  decided  : 

‘^^Then  I must  be  took  down.” 

Where  ?”  asked  Lightwood. 

^^Here,”  said  the  man.  ^^^In  pen  and  ink.” 

First,  let  us  know  what  your  business  is  about.” 

^^It’s  about,”  said  the  man,  taking  a step  forward, 
dropping  his  hoarse  voice,  and  shading  it  with  his  hand, 
^Gt’s  about  from  five  to  ten  thousand  pound  reward. 
That’s  what  it’s  about.  It’s  about  Murder.  That’s  what 
it’s  about.” 

^^Come  near  the  table.  Sit  down.  Will  you  have  a 
glass  of  wine  ? ” 

'Wes,  will,”  said  the  man  ; and  I don’t  deceive  you. 
Governors.” 

It  was  given  him.  Making  a stiff  arm  to  the  elbow, 
he  poured  the  wine  into  his  mouth,  tilted  it  into  his 
right  cheek,  as  saying,  "What  do  you  think  of  it?” 
tilted  it  into  his  left  cheek,  as  saying  "What  do  you 
think  of  it?”  jerked  it  into  his  stomach,  as  saying, 
"What  do  you  think  of  it?”  To  conclude,  smacked 
his  lips,  as  if  all  three  replied,  "We  think  well  of  it.” 

"Will  you  have  another  ?” 

"Yes,  I will,”  he  repeated,  "and  I don’t  deceive  you. 
Governors.”  And  also  repeated  the  other  proceedings. 

"Now,”  began  Lightwood,  "what’s  your  name  ?” 

"Why,  there  you’re  rather  fast.  Lawyer  Lightwood,” 
he  replied  in  a remonstrant  manner.  " Don’t  you  see. 
Lawyer  Lightwood  ? There  you’re  a little  bit  fast. 
I’m  going  to  earn  from  five  to  ten  thousand  pound  by 
the  sweat  of  my  brow  ; and  as  a poor  man  doing  justice 
to  the  sweat  of  my  brow,  is  it  likely  I can  afford  to  part 
with  so  much  as  my  name  without  its  being  took 
down  ? ” 

Deferring  to  the  man’s  sense  of  the  binding  powers  of 
pen  and  ink  and  paper,  Lightwood  nodded  acceptance 
of  Eugene’s  nodded  proposal  to  take  those  spells  in 
hand.  Eugene,  bringing  them  to  the  table,  sat  down  as 
clerk  or  notary. 

"Now,”  said  Lightwood,  "what’s  your  name  ?” 

But  further  precaution  was  still  due  to  the  sweat  of 
this  honest  fellow’s  brow. 

"I  should  wish,  Lawyer  Lightwood,  he  stipulated, 


SWEAT  OF  AN  HONEST  MAN’S  BROW.  159 


have  that  T’other  Governor  ^as  my  witness  that 
what  I said  I said.  Consequent,  will  T’other  Governor 
be  so  good  as  chuck  me  his  name  and  where  he  lives  ? ” 

Eugene,  cigar  in  mouth  and  pen  in  hand,  tossed  him 
his  card.  After  spelling  it  out  slowly,  the  man  made  it 
into  a little  roll,  and  tied  it  up  in  an  end  of  his  necker- 
chief still  more  slowly. 

^'J^ow,”  said  Lightwood,  for  the  third  time,  'Gf  you 
have  quite  completed  your  various  preparations,  my 
friend,  and  have  fully  ascertained  that  your  spirits  are 
cool  and  not  in  any  way  hurried,  what’s  your  name?” 

Roger  Riderhood.” 

Dwelling-place?” 

^^Lime’us  Hole.” 

Calling  or  occupation?” 

Not  quite  so  glib  with  this  answer  as  with  the  previous 
two,  Mr.  Riderhood  gave  in  the  definition,  Waterside 
character.” 

Anything  against  you?”  Eugene  quietly  put  in,  as 
he  wrote. 

Rather  baulked,  Mr.  Riderhood  evasively  remarked, 
with  an  innocent  air,  that  he  believed  the  T’other  Gov- 
ernor had  asked  him  summa’t. 

^'Ever  in  trouble?”  said  Eugene. 

^^Once.”  (Might  happen  to  any  man,  Mr.  Riderhood 
added  incidentally.) 

On  suspicion  of ?” 

Of  seaman’s  pocket,”  said  Mr.  Riderhood.  Where- 
by I was  in  reality  the  man’s  best  friend,  and  tried  to 
take  care  of  him.” 

With  the  sweat  of  your  brow?”  asked  Eugene. 

^^Till  it  poured  down  like  rain,”  said  Roger  Rider- 
hood. 

Eugene  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  and  smoked  with 
his  eyes  negligently  turned  on  the  informer,  and  his 
pen  ready  to  reduce  him  to  more  writing.  Lightwood 
also  smoked,  with  his  eyes  negligently  turned  on  the 
informer. 

Now  let  me  be  took  down  again,”  said  Riderhood, 
when  he  had  turned  the  drowned  cap  over  and  under, 
and  had  brushed  it  the  wrong  way  (if  it  had  a right 
way)  with  his  sleeve?  give  information  that  the 
man  that  done  the  Harmon  Murder  is  Gaffer  Hexam, 
the  man  that  found  the  body.  The  hand  of  Jeece 


IGO 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Hexam,  commonly  called  Gaffer  on  the  river  and  along-* 
shore,  is  the  hand  that  done  that  deed.  His  hand  and 
no  other.’’ 

The  two  friends  glanced  at  one  another  with  more 
serious  faces  than  they  had  shown  yet. 

Tell  us  on  what  grounds  you  make  this  accusation,” 
said  Mortimer  Lightwood. 

On  the  grounds,”  answered  Riderhood,  wiping  his 
face  with  his  sleeve,  ^Ghat  I was  Gaffer’s  pardner,  and 
suspected  of  him  many  a long  day  and  many  a dark 
night.  On  the  grounds  that  I knowed  his  ways. 
On  the  grounds  that  I broke  the  pardnership  be” 
cause  I see  the  danger  ; which  I warn  you  his 
daughter  may  tell  you  another  story  about  that,  for 
anything  I can  say,  but  you  know  what  it’ll  be  worth, 
for  she’d  tell  you  lies,  the  world  round  and  the  heavens 
broad,  to  save  her  father.  On  the  grounds  that  it’s  well 
understood  along  the  cause’ays  and  the  stairs  that  he 
done  it.  On  the  grounds  that  he’s  fell  off  from,  because 
he  done  it.  On  the  grounds  that  I will  swear  he  done 
it.  On  the  grounds  that  you  may  take  me  where  you 
will,  and  get  me  sworn  to  it.  I don’t  want  to  back  out 
of  the  consequences.  I have  made  up  my  mind.  Take 
me  anywheres.” 

All  this  is  nothing,”  said  Lightwood. 

Nothing?”  repeated  Ridemood,  indignantly  and 
amazedly. 

Merely  nothing.  It  goes  to  no  more  than  that  you 
suspect  this  man  of  the  crime.  You  may  do  so  with 
some  reason,  or  you  may  do  so  with  no  reason,  but  he 
cannot  be  convicted  on  your  suspicion.” 

Haven’t  I said — I appeal  to  the  T’other  Governor  as 
my  witness — haven’t  I said  from  the  first  minute  that  I 
opened  my  mouth  in  this  here  world-without-end-ever- 
lasting  chair  ” (he  evidently  used  that  form  of  words  as 
next  in  force  to  an  affidavit),  ^Ghat  I was  willing  to 
swear  that  he  done  it  ? Haven’t  I said.  Take  me  and 
get  me  sworn  to  it  ? Don’t  I say  so  now  ? You  won’t 
deny  it.  Lawyer  Lightwood  ? ” 

Surely  not ; but  you  only  offer  to  swear  to  your  sus- 
picion, and  I tell  you  it  is  not  enough  to  swear  to  your 
suspicion.” 

'‘Not  enough,  ain’t  it.  Lawyer  Lightwood?”  be 
cautiously  demanded, 


SWEAT  OF  AN  rIONEST  MAN^S  BROW.  161 


^'Positively  not.” 

" And  did  I say  it  was  enough  ? Now,  I appeal  to  the 
T’other  Governor.  Now,  fair  ! Did  I say  so  ?” 

"He  certainly  has  not  said  that  he  had  no  more  to 
tell,”  Eugene  observed  in  a low  voice,  without  looking 
at  him,  " whatever  he  seemed  to  imply.” 

" Hah  ! ” cried  the  informer,  triumphantly  perceiving 
that  the  - remark  was  generally  in  his  favor,  though 
apparently  not  closely  understanding  it.  "Fort’nate 
for  me,^  I had  a witness  ! ” 

" Go*on,  then,”  said  Lightwood.  " Say  out  what  you 
have  to  say.  No  after-thought.” 

" Let  me  look  down  then!”  cried  the  informer,  eagerly 
and  anxiously.  " Let  me  look  down,  for  by  George  and 
the  Draggin  I’m  coming  to  it  now!  Don’t  do  nothing 
to  keep  back  from  a honest  man  the  fruits  of  the  sweat 
of  his  brow!  I give  information,  then,  that  he  told  me 
that*he  done  it.  Is  that  enough?” 

" Take  care  what  you  say,  my  friend,”  returned  Mor- 
timer. 

"Lawyer  Lightwood,  take  care,  you,  what  I say; 
fori  judge  you’ll  be  answerable  for  follering  it  up!” 
Then,  slowly  and  emphatically  beating  it  all  out  with  his 
open  right  hand  on  the  palm  of  his  left;  "I,  Roger 
Riderhood,  Lime’us  Hole,  Waterside  character,  tell  you. 
Lawyer  Lightwood,  that  the  man  Jesse  Hexam,  com- 
monly called  upon  the  river  and  along-shore  Gaffer, 
told  me  that  he  done  the  deed.  What’s  more,  he  told  me 
with  his  own  lips  that  he  done  the  deed.  What’s  more, 
he  said  that  he  done  the  deed.  And  ITl  swear  it!” 

" Where  did  he  tell  you  so?” 

" Outside,”  replied  Riderhood,  always  beating  it  out, 
with  his  head  determinedly  set  askew,  and  his  eyes 
watchfully  dividing  their  attention  between  his  two 
auditors,  " outside  the  door  of  the  Six  Jolly  Fellowships, 
towards  a quarter  arter  twelve  o’clock  at  midnight — 
but  I will  not  in  my  conscience  undertake  to  swear 
to  so  fine  a matter  as  five  minutes — on  the  night  when 
he  picked  up  the  body.  . The  Six  Jolly  Fellowships 
stands  on  the  spot  still.  The  Six  Jolly  Fellowships 
won’t  run  away.  If  it  turns  out  that  he  warn’t  at  the 
Six  Jolly  Fellowships  that  night  at  midnight.  I’m  a 
li  ar  ” 

" AVhat  did  he  say?” 

VOL.  I. 


11 


162 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


ril  tell  you  (take  me  down,  T'other  Governor,  I ask 
no  better).  He  come  out  first;  I come  out  last.  I might 
be  a minute  arter  him;  I might  be  half  a minute,  I 
might  be  a quarter  of  a minute;  I cannot  swear  to  that 
and  therefore  I won’t.  That’s  knowing  the  obligations 
of  a Alfred  David,  ain’t  it?  ” 

Go  on.” 

I found  him  a waiting  to  speak  to  me.  He  says  to 
me,  ^ Rogue  Riderhood  ’ — for  that’s  the  name  I’m  mostly 
called  by — not  for  any  meaning  in  it,  for  meaning  it  has 
none,  but  because  of  its  being  similar  to  Roger.” 

Never  mind  that.” 

’Sense  me.  Lawyer  Light  wood,  it’s  a part  of  the  truth, 
and  as  such  I do  mind  it,  and  I must  mind  it  and  I will 
mind  it.  ' Rogue  Riderhood,’  he  says,  ' Avords  passed 
betwixt  us  on  the  river  to-night.’  Which  they  had  ; ask 
his  daughter  ! ^ I threatened  you,’  he  says,  ‘ to  chop  you 

over  the  fingers  with  my  boat’s  stretcher,  or  take  a®aim 
at  your  brains  with  my  boathook.  I did  so  on  accounts 
of  your  looking  too  hard  at  what  I had  in  tow,  as  if  you 
was  suspicious,  and  on  accounts  of  your  holding  on  to 
the  gunwale  of  my  boat.’  I says  to  him,  ‘'Gaffer,  I 
know  it.’  He  says  to  me,  ^ Rogue  Riderhood,  you  are  a 
man  in  a dozen  ’ — I think  he  said  in  a score,  but  of  that 
I am  not  positive,  so  take  the  loAvest  figure,  for  precious 
be  the  obligations  of  a Alfred  David.  ^ And,’  he  says, 
^ when  your  fellow-men  is  up,  be  it  their  lives  or  be  it 
their  watches,  sharp  is  ever  the  word  Avith  you.  Had 
you  suspicions  ? ’ I says,  ^ Gaffer,  I had ; and  what’s 
more,  I have.’  He  falls  a shaking,  and  he  says,  ^ Of 
Avhat?’  Isays,  'Of  foul  play.’  He  falls  a shaking 
worse,  and  he  says,  ' There  was  foul  play  then.  I done 
it  for  his  money.  Don’t  betray  me  ! ’ Those  were  the 
words  as  ever  ho  used.” 

There  was  a silence,  broken  only  by  the  fall  of  the 
ashes  in  the  grate.  An  opportunity  which  the  informer 
improved  by  smearing  himself  all  over  the  head  and 
neck  and  face  Avith  his  drowned  cap,  and  not  at  all  im- 
proving his  own  appearance. 

'‘'What  more?”  asked  Lightwood. 

" Oh  him,  d’ye  mean.  Lawyer  Lightwood?  ” 

" Of  anything  to  the  jjurpose.” 

" Noav,  I’m  blest  if  I understand  you,  Governors  Both,” 
said  the  informer,  in  a creeping  manner  : propitiating 


SWEAT  OE  AN  HONEST  MAN’S  BROW,  163 


both,  though  only  one  had  spoken.  What?  Ain’t  that 
enough? ” 

^^Did  you  ask  him  how  he  did  it,  where  he  did  it, 
when  he  did  it?” 

Far  be  it  from  me.  Lawyer  Light  wood!  I was  so 
troubled  in  my  mind,  that  I wouldn’t  have  knowed  more, 
no,  not  for  the  sum  as  I expect  to  earn  from  you  by  the 
sweat  of  my  brow,  twice  told!  I had  put  an  end  to  the 
pardnership.  I had  cut  the  connexion.  I couldn’t  undo 
what  was  done;  and  when  he  begs  and  prays,  ' Old 
pardner,  on  my  knees,  don’t  split  upon  me!’  I only 
makes  answer  ' Never  speak  another  word  to  Roger  Rid- 
erhood,  nor  look  him  in  the  face!  ’ and  I shuns  that  man.” 

Having  given  these  words  a swing  to  make  them 
mount  the  higher  and  go  the  further.  Rogue  Riderhood 
poured  himself  out  another  glass  of  wine  unbidden,  and 
seemed  to  chew  it,  as,  with  the  half-emptied  glass  in 
his  hand,  he  stared  at  the  candles. 

Mortimer  glanced  at  Eugene,  but  Eugene  sat  glower- 
ing at  his  paper,  and  would  give  him  no  reponsive 
glance.  Mortimer  again  turned  to  the  informer,  to 
whom  he  said: 

^Wou  have  been  troubled  in  your  mind  a long  time, 
man  ? ” 

Giving  his  wine  a final  chew,  and  swallowing  it,  the 
informer  answered  in  a single  word: 

^^Hages!  ” 

When  all  that  stir  was  made,  when  the  Government 
reward  was  offered,  when  the  police  were  on  the  alert, 
when  the  whole  country  rang  with  the  crime!”  said 
Mortimer,  impatiently. 

^^Hah!”  Mr.  Riderhood  very  slowly  and  hoarsely 
chimed  in,  with  several  retrospective  nods  of  his  head. 

Warn’t  I troubled  in  my  mind  then!  ” 

^^When  conjecture  ran  wild,  when  the  most  extra- 
vagant suspicions  were  afloat,  when  half  a dozen  inno- 
cent people  rnight  have  been  laid  by  the  heels  any  hour 
in  the  day!”  said  Mortimer,  almost  warming. 

Hah!  ” Mr.  Riderhood  chimed  in,  as  before.  *^Warn’t 
I troubled  in  my  mind  through  it  all!” 

^"But  he  hadn’t,”  said  Eugene,  drawing  a lady’s  head 
upon  his  writing-paper,  and  touching  it  at  intervals, 

the  opportunity  then  of  earning  so  much  money,  you 
see.” 


164 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


^^The  T’other  Governor  hits  the  nail^  Lawyer  Light- 
wood!  It  was  that  as  turned  me.  I had  many  times  and 
again  struggled  to  relieve  myself  of  the  trouble  on  my 
mind,  but  I couldn’t  get  it  off.  I had  once  very  nigh 
got  it  off  to  Miss  Abbey  Potterson  which  keeps  the  Six 
Jolly  Fellowships — there  is  the  ’ouse,  it  won’t  run  away, 
— there  lives  the  lady,  she  ain’t  likely  to  he  struck  dead 
afore  you  get  there — ask  her! — but  I couldn’t  do  it.  At 
last,  out  comes  the  new  bill  with  your  own  lawful  name, 
Lawyer  Lightwood,  printed  to  it,  and  then  I asks  the 
question  of  my  own  intellects.  Am  I to  have  this  trouble 
on  my  mind  for  ever  ? Am  I never  to  throw  it  off  ? Am 
I always  to  think  more  of  Gaffer  than  of  my  own  self  ? 
If  he’s  got  a daughter,  ain’t  I got  a daughter  ? ” 

And  echo  answered— — ?”  Eugene  suggested. 

You  have,”  said  Mr.  Riderhood,  in  a firm  tone. 
Incidentally  mentioning,  at  the  same  time,  her 
age  ?”  inquired  Eugene. 

^^Yes,  Governor.  Tw^o-and-twenty  last  October.  And 
then  I put  it  to  myself,  ' Regarding  the  money.  It  is  a 
pot  of  money.’  For  it  is  a pot,”  said  Mr.  Riderhood, 
with  candour,  ^^and  why  deny  it?” 

"^Hear!’'  from  Eugene,  as  he  touched  his  drawing. 

' It  is  a pot  of  money;  but  is  it  a sin  for  a labouring 
man  that  moistens  every  crust  of  bread  he  earns  with 
his  tears — or  if  not  with  them,  with  the  nolds  he  catches 
in  his  head — is  it  a sin  for  that  man  to  earn  it?  Say 
there  is  anything  again  earning  it.’  This  I put  to  my- 
self strong,  as  in  duty  bound;  'how  can  it  be  said  with- 
out blaming  Lawyer  Lightwood  for  offering  it  to  be 
earned?’  And  was  it  for  me  to  blame  Lawyer  Light- 
wood? No?” 

"No,”  said  Eugene. 

" Certainly  not.  Governor,”  Mr.  Riderhood  acquiesced. 
" So  I made  up  my  mind  to  get  my  trouble  off  my  mind, 
and  to  earn  by  the  sweat  of  my  brow  what  was  held  out 
to  me.  And  what’s  more,”  he  added,  suddenly  turning 
bloodthirsty,  " I mean  to  have  it!  ” And  now  I tell  you, 
once  and  away,  Lawyer  Lightwood,  that  Jesse  Hexham, 
commonly  called  Gaffer,  his  hand  and  no  other,  done 
the  deed,  on  his  own  confession  to  me.  And  I give  him 
up  to  you,  and  I want  him  took.  This  night!  ” 

After  another  silence,  broken  only  by  the  fall  of  the 
ashes  in  the  grate,  which  attracted  the  informer’s  at- 


SWEAT  OF  AN  HONEST  MAN’S  BROW.  1G5 


tention  as  if  it  were  the  chinking  of  money,  Mortimer 
Lightwood  leaned  over  his  friend,  and  said  in  a 
whisper: 

suppose  I must  go  with  this  fellow  to  our  imper- 
turbable friend  at  the  police-station.’’ 

I suppose,”  said  Eugene,  there  is  no  help  for  it.” 

Do  you  believe  him  ? ” 

believe  him  to  be  a thorough  rascal.  But  he  may 
tell  the  truth  for  his  own  purpose,  and  for  this  occasion 
only.” 

It  doesn’t  look  like  it.” 

He  doesn’t,”  said  Eugene.  ‘^But  neither  is  his  late 
partner,  whom  he  denounces,  a prepossessing  person. 
The  firm  are  cut-throat  Shepherds  both,  in  appearance. 
I should  like  to  ask  him  one  thing.” 

The  subject  of  this  conference  sat  leering  at  the  ashes, 
trying  with  all  his  might  to  overhear  what  was  said, 
but  feigning  abstraction  as  the  ^'Governors  Both” 
glanced  at  him. 

^Wou  mentioned  (twice,  I think)  a daughter  of  this 
Hexam’s,”  said  Eugene,  aloud.  ^Wou  don’t  mean  to 
imply  that  she  had  any  guilty  knowledge  of  the  crime  ? ” 

The  honest  man,  after  considering — perhaps  consider- 
ing how  his  answer  might  affect  the  fruits  of  the  sweat 
of  his  brow — replied,  unreservedly,  No,  I don’t.” 

And  you  implicate  no  other  person  ?” 

^Ht  ain’t  what  I implicate,  it’s  what  Gaffer  im- 
plicated,” was  the  dogged  and  determined  answer.  I 
don’t  pretend  to  know  more  than  that  his  words  to  me 
was,  ‘ I done  it.’  Those  was  his  words.” 

must  see  this  out,  Mortimer,”  whispered  Eugene, 
rising.  How  shall  we  go  ?” 

Let  us  walk,”  whispered  Lightwood,  and  give  this 
fellow  time  to  think  of  it.” 

Having  exchanged  the  question  and  answer,  they 
prepared  themselves  for  going  out,  and  Mr.  Riderhood 
rose.  While  extinguishing  the  candles,  Lightwood, 
quite  as  a matter  of  course,  took  up  the  glass  from 
which  that  honest  gentleman  had  drunk,  and  coolly 
tossed  it  under  the  grate,  where  it  fell  shivering  into 
fragments. 

'^Now,  if  you  will  take  the  lead,”  said  Lightwood, 

Mr.  Wrayburn  and  I will  follow.  You  know  where  to 
go,  I suppose  ? ” 


166 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


^‘1  suppose  I do,  Lawyer  Light  wood.’’ 

Take  the  lead,  then.” 

The  waterside  character  pulled  his  drowned  cap  over 
his  ears  with  both  hands,  and  making  himself  more 
round-shouldered  than  nature  had  made  him,  by  the 
sullen  and  persistent  slouch  with  which  be  went,  went 
down  the  stairs,  round  by  the  Xemple  Church,  across 
the  Temple  into  Whitefriars,  and  so  on  by  the  waterside 
streets. 

^^Look  at  his  hang-dog  air,”  said  Light  wood,  follow- 
ing.- 

‘^It  strikes  me  rather  as  a hang-man  air,”  returned 
Eugene.  He  has  undeniable  intentions  that  way.” 

They  said  little  else  as  they  followed.  He  went  on 
before  them  as  an  ugly  Fate  might  have  done,  and  they 
kept  him  in  view,  and  would  have  been  glad  enough  to 
lose  sight  of  him.  But  on  he  went  before  them,  always 
at  the  same  distance,  and  the  same  rate.  Aslant  against 
the  hard  implacable  weather  and  the  rough  wind,  he 
was  no  more  to  be  driven  back  than  hurried  forward, 
but  held  on  like  an  advancing  Destiny.  There  came, 
when  they  were  about  midway  on  their  Journey,  a 
heavy  rush  of  hail,  which  in  a few  minutes  pelted  the 
streets  clear,  and  whitened  them.  It  made  no  difference, 
to  him.  A man’s  life  being  to  be  taken  and  the  price 
of  it  got,  the  hailstones  to  arrest  the  purpose  must  lie 
larger  and  deeper  than  those.  He  crushed  through 
them,  leaving  marks  in  the  fast-melting  slush  that 
were  mere  shapeless  holes  ; one  might  have  fancipd, 
following,  that  the  very  fashion  of  humanity  had  de- 
parted from  his  feet. 

The  blast  went  by,  and  the  moon  contended  with  the 
fast-flying  clouds,  and  the  wild  disorder  reigning  up 
there  made  the  pitiful  little  tumults  in  the  streets  of  no 
account.  It  was  not  that  the  wind  swept  all  the  brawl- 
ers into  places  of  shelter,  as  it  had  swept  the  hail  still 
lingering  in  heaps  wherever  there  was  refuge  for  it;  but 
that  it  seemed  as  if  the  streets  were  absorbed  by  the 
sky,  and  the  night  were  all  in  the  air. 

''If  he  has  had  time  to  think  of  it,”  said  Eugene, 
" he  has  not  had  time  to  think  better  of  it — or  different- 
ly of  it,  if  that’s  better.  There  is  no  sign  of  drawing 
back  in  him;  and  as  I recollect  this  place,  we  must  be 
close  upon  the  corner  where  we  alighted  that  night.” 


SWEAT  OF  AN  HONEST  MAN'S  BROW.  167 


111  fact,  a few  abrupt  turns  brought  them  to  the  river- 
side, where  they  had  slipped  about  among  the  stones, 
and  where  they  now  slipped  more;  the  wind  coming 
against  them  in  slants  and  flaws,  across  the  tide  and 
the  winding  of  the  river,  in  a furious  way.  With  that 
habit  of  getting  under  the  lee  of  any  shelter  which 
waterside  characters  acquire,  the  waterside  character 
at  present  in  question  led  the  way  to  the  leeside  of  the 
Six  Jolly  Fellowship-Porters  before  he  spoke. 

Look  round  here.  Lawyer  Light  wood,  at  them  red 
curtains.  It’s  the  Fellowships,  the  ’ouse  as  I told  you 
wouldn’t  run  away.  And  has  it  run  away?  ” 

Not  showing  himself  much  impressed  by  this  remark- 
able confirmation  of  the  informer’s  evidence,  Lightwood 
inquired  what  other  business  they  had  there  ? 

I wished  you  to  see  the  Fellowships  for  yourself. 
Lawyer  Lightwood,  that  you  might  judge  whether  I’m 
a liar  ; and  now  I’ll  see  Gaffer’s  window  for  myself, 
that  we  may  know  whether  he’s  at  home.” 

With  that  he  crept  away. 

He’ll  come  back,  I suppose  ? ’’murmured  Lightwood. 

Ay  ! and  go  through  with  it,”  murmured  Eugene. 

He  came  back  after  a very  short  interval  indeed. 

^'Gaffer’s  out,  and  his  boat’s  out.  His  daughter’s  at 
home,  sitting  a-looking  at  the  fire.  But  there’s  some 
supper  getting  ready,  so  Gaffer’s  expected.  I can  find 
what  he’s  move  upon,  easy  enough,  presently.” 

Then  he  beckoned  and  led  the  way  again,  and  they 
came  to  the  police-station,  still  as  clean  and  cool  and 
steady  as  before,  saving  that  the  flame  of  its  lamp — 
being  but  a lamp  flame,  and  only  attached  to  the  Force 
as  an  outsider — flickered  in  the  wind. 

Also,  within  doors,  Mr.  Inspector  was  at  his  studies 
as  of  yore.  He  recognized  the  friends  the  instant  they 
reappeared,  but  their  reappearance  had  no  effect  on  his 
composure.  Not  even  the  circumstance  that  Riderhood 
was  their  conductor  moved  him,  otherwise  than  that  as 
he  took  a dip  of  ink  he  seemed,  by  a settlement  of  his 
chin  in  his  stock,  to  propound  to  that  personage,  with- 
out looking  at  him,  the  question,  What  have  ^o^^been 
up  to,  last  ? ” 

Mortimer  Lightwood  asked  him,  would  he  so  good  as 
look  at  those  notes  ? Handing  him  Eugene’s. 

Having  read  the  first  few  lineSj  Mr.  Inspector  mounted 


168 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


to  that  (for  him)  extraordinary  pitch  of  emotion  that  he 
said,  Does  either  of  you  two  gentlemen  happen  to  have 
a pinch  of  snuff  about  him?’’  Finding  that  neither 
had,  he  did  quite  as  well  without  it,  and  read  on. 

Have  you  heard  these  read  ? ” he  then  demanded  of 
the  honest  man, 

^^No,”  said  Riderhood. 

Then  you  had  better  hear  them.”  And  so  read  them 
aloud,  in  an  official  manner. 

Are  these  notes  correct,  now,  as  to  the  information 
you  bring  here  and  the  evidence  you  mean  to  give  ? ” he 
asked,  when  he  had  finished  reading. 

They  are.  They  are  as  correct,”  returned  Mr.  Rider- 
hood,  as  I am.  I can’t  say  more  than  that  for  ’em.” 

I’ll  take  this  man  myself,  sir,”  said  Mr.  Inspector  to 
Lightw’ood.  Then  to  Riderhood,  ^Hs  he  at  home? 
Where  is  he  ? What’s  he  doing  ? You  have  made  it 
your  business  to  know  all  about  him,  no  doubt.” 

Riderhood  said  what  he  did  know,  and  promised  to 
find  out  in  a few  minutes  what  he  didn’t  know. 

Stop,”  said  Mr.  'Inspector  ; ^^not  till  I tell  you.  We 
musn’t  look  like  business.  Would  you  two  gentlemen 
object  to  making  a pretence  of  taking  a glass  of  some- 
thing in  my  company  at  the  Fellowships  ? Well-con- 
ducted house,  and  highly  respectable  landlady.” 

They  replied  that  they  would  be  happy  to  substitute  a 
reality  for  the  pretence,  which,  in  the  main,  appeared 
to  be  as  one  with  Mr.  Inspector’s  meaning. 

Very  good,”  said  he,  taking  his  hat  from  its  peg,  and 
putting  a pair  of  handcuffs  in  his  pocket  as  if  they  were 
his  gloves.  Reserve  ! ” Reserve  saluted.  ^ Wou  know 
whereto  find  me?”  Reserve  again  saluted.  ‘^Rider- 
hood,  when  you  have  found  out  concerning  his  coming 
home,  come  round  to  the  window  of  Cosy,  tap  twice  at 
it,  and  wait  for  me.  Now,  gentlemen.” 

As  the  three  went  out  together,  and  Riderhood 
slouched  off  from  under  the  trembling  lamp  his  separate 
way,  Lightwood  asked  the  officer  what  he  thought  of 
this  ? 

Mr.  Inspector  replied,  with  due  generality  and  reti- 
cence, that  it  was  always  more  likely  that  a man  had 
done  a bad  thing  than  that  he  hadn’t.  That  he  himself 
had  several  times  “reckoned  up”  Gaffer,  but  had  never 
been  able  to  bring  him  to  a satisfactory  criminal  total, 


SWEAT  OE  AN  HONEST  MAN’S  BROW.  109 

That  if  this  story  was  true,  it  was  only  in  part  true. 
That  the  two  men,  very  shy  characters,  would  have 
been  jointly  and  pretty  equally  ''in.  it but  that  this 
man  had  "spotted”  the  other,  to  save  himself  and  get 
the  money. 

"And  I think,”  added  Mr.  Inspector,  in  conclusion, 
"that  if  all  goes  well  with  him,  he’s  in  a tolerable  way 
of  getting  it.  But  as  this  is  the  Fellowships,  gentlemen, 
where  the  lights  are,  I recommend  dropping  the  subject. 
You  can’t  do  better  than  be  interested  in  some  lime 
works  anywhere  down  about  Northfieet,  and  doubtful 
whether  some  of  your  lime  don’t  get  into  bad  company 
as  it  comes  up  in  barges.” 

"You  hear,  Eugene?”  said  Lightwood  over  his  shoul- 
der. "You  are  deeply  interested  in  lime.” 

"Without  lime,”  returned  that  unmoved  barrister-at- 
law,  "my  existence  would  be  unilluminated  by  a ray  of 
hope.” 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

TRACKING  THE  BIRD  OF  PREY. 

The  two  lime  merchants,  with  their  escort,  entered 
the  dominions  of  Miss  Abbey  Potterson,  to  whom 
their  escort  (presenting  them  and  their  pretended  busi- 
ness over  the  half-door  of  the  bar,  in  a confidential  way) 
preferred  his  figurative  request  that  "a  mouthful  of 
fire  ” might  be  lighted  in  Cosy.  Always  well  disposed 
to  assist  the  constituted  authorities.  Miss  Abbey  bade 
Bob  Gliddery  attend  the  gentlemen  to  that  retreat,  and 
promptly  enliven  it  with  fire  and  gaslight.  Of  this  com- 
mission the  bare-armed  Bob,  leading  the  way  with  a 
fiaming  wisp  of  paper,  so  speedily  acquitted  himself, 
that  Cosy  seemed  to  leap  out  of  a dark  sleep  and  em- 
brace them  warmly,  the  moment  they  passed  the  lintels 
of  its  hospitable  door. 

" They  burn  sherry  very  well  here,”  said  Mr.  In- 
spector, as  a piece  of  local  intelligence.  "Perhaps  you 
gentlemen  might  like  a bottle?” 

The  answer  being  By  all  means.  Bob  Gliddery  re- 
ceived his  instructions  from  Mr.  Inspector,  and  de- 


170 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


parted  in  a becoming  state  of  alacrity  engendered  by 
reverence  for  the  majesty  of  the  law. 

'‘It's  a certain  fact/  said  Mr.  Inspector^  ''that  this 
man  we  have  received  our  information  from/’  indicat- 
ing Riderhood  with  his  thumb  over  his  shoulder,  "has 
for  some  time  past  given  the  other  man  a bad  name 
arising  out  of  your  lime  barges,  and  that  the  other  man 
has  been  avoided  in  consequence.  I don’t  say  what  it 
means  or  proves,  but  it’s  a certain  fact.  I had  it  first 
from  one  of  the  opposite  sex  of  my  acquaintance,” 
vaguely  indicating  Miss  Abbey  with  his  thumb  over  his 
shoulder,  " down  away  at  a distance,  over  yonder.” 

Then  probably  Mr.  Inspector  was  not  quite  unprepared 
for  their  visit  that  evening  ? Lightwood  hinted. 

"Well,  you  see,”  said  Mr.  Inspector,  "it  was  a ques- 
tion of  making  a move.  It’s  of  no  use  moving  if  you 
don’t  know  what  your  move  is.  You  had  better  by  far 
keep  still.  In  the  matter  of  this  lime,  I certainly  had  an 
idea  that  it  might  lie  betwixt  the  two  men ; I always 
had  that  idea.  Still  I was  forced  to  wait  for  a start,  and 
I wasn’t  so  lucky  as  to  get  a start.  This  man  that  we 
have  received  our  information  from,  has  got  a start,  and 
if  he  don’t  meet  with  a check  he  may  make  the  running 
and  come  in  first.  There  may  turn  out  to  be  something 
considerable  for  him  that  comes  in  second,  and  I don’t 
mention  who  may  or  who  may  not  try  for  that  place. 
There’s  duty  to  do,  and  I shall  do  it,  under  any  circum- 
stances, to  the  best  of  my  judgment  and  ability.” 

" Speaking  as  a shipper  of  lime ” began  Eugene. 

"Which  no  man  has  a better  right  to  do  than  your- 
self, you  know,”  said  Mr.  Inspector. 

"I  hope  not,”  said  Eugene  ; "my  father  having  been 
a shipper  of  lime  before  me,  and  my  grandfather  before 
him — in  fact  we  having  been  a family  immersed  to  the 
crowns  of  our  heads  in  lime  during  several  generations 
— I beg  to  observe  that  if  this  missing  lime  could  be  got 
hold  of  without  any  young  female  relative  of  any  dis- 
tinguished gentleman  engaged  in  the  lime  trade  (which 
I cherish  next  to  my  life)  being  present,  I think  it  might 
be  a more  agreeable  proceeding  to  the  assisting  by- 
standers, that  is  to  say,  lime-burners.” 

^'I  also,”  said  Lightwood,  pushing  his  friend  aside 
with  a laugh,  " should  much  prefer  that.” 

^'It  shall  be  done,  gentlemen,  if  it  can  be  done  conve- 


TRACKING  THE  BIRD  OF  PREY. 


171 


niently/’  said  Mr.  Inspector,  with  coolness.  There  is 
no  wish  on  my  part  to  cause  any  distress  in  that  quarter, 
indeed,  I am  sorry  for  that  quarter.’’ 

There  was  a boy  in  that  quarter,”  remarked  Eugene. 
''He  is  stiU  there  ?” 

"No,”  said  Mr.  Inspector.  "He  has  quitted  these 
works.  He  is  otherwise  disposed  of.” 

"Will  she  be  left  alone  then  ?”  asked  Eugene. 

" She  will  be  left,”  said  Mr.  Inspector,  "alone.” 

Bob’s  reappearance  with  a steaming  jug  broke  off  the 
conversation.  But  although  the  jug  steamed  forth  a 
delicious  perfume,  its  contents  had  not  received  that  last 
happy  touch  which  the  surpassing  finish  of  the  Six  Jolly 
Fellowship-Porters  imparted  on  such  momentous  occa- 
sions. Bob  carried  in  his  left  hand  one  of  those  iron 
models  of  sugar-loaf  hats,  before  mentioned,  into  which 
he  emptied  the  jug,  and  the  pointed  end  of  which  he 
thrust  deep  down  into  the  fire,  so  leaving  it  for  a few 
moments  while  he  disappeared  and  reappeared  with 
three  bright  drinking-glasses.  Placing  these  on  the 
table  and  bending  over  the  fire,  meritoriously  sensible 
of  the  trying  nature  of  his  duty,  he  watched  the  wreaths 
of  steam,  until  at  the  special  instant  of  projection  he 
caught  up  the  iron  vessel  and  gave  it  one  delicate  twirl, 
causing  it  to  send  forth  one  gentle  hiss.  Then  he  re- 
stored the  contents  to  the  jug  ; held  over  the  steam  of 
the  jug,  each  of  the  three  bright  glasses  in  succession  ; 
finally  filled  them  all,  and  with  a clear  conscience 
awaited  the  applause  of  his  fellow-creatures. 

It  was  bestowed  (Mr.  Inspector  having  proposed  as  an 
appropriate  sentiment  " the  lime  trade  ! ”)  and  Bob  with- 
drew to  report  the  commendations  of  the  guests  to  Miss 
Abbey  in  the  bar.  It  may  be  here  in  confidence  admit- 
ted that,  the  room  being  close  shut  in  his  absence,  there 
had  not  appeared  to  be  the  slightest  reason  for  the  elabo- 
rate maintenance  of  this  same  lime  fiction.  Only  it  had 
been  regarded  by  Mr.  Inspector  as  so  uncommonly  satis- 
factory, and  so  fraught  with  mysterious  virtues,  that 
neither  of  his  clients  had  presumed  to  question  it. 

Two  taps  were  now  heard  on  the  outside  of  the  win- 
dow. Mr.  Inspector,  hastily  fortifying  himself  with 
another  glass,  strolled  out  with  a noiseless  foot  and  an 
unoccupied  countenance.  As  one  might  go  to  survey  the 
weather  and  the  general  aspect  of  the  heavenly  bodies. 


172 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


''This  is  becoming  grim,  Mortimer/’  said  Eugene,  in 
a low  voice.  " I don’t  like  this.” 

‘'  Nor  I,”  said  Light  wood.  "Shall  we  go  ?” 

"Being  here,  let  us  stay.  You  ought  to  see  it  out, 
and  I won’t  leave  you.  Besides,  that  lonely  girl  with 
the  dark  hair  runs  in  my  head.  It  was  little  more  than 
a glimpse  we  had  of  her  that  last  time,  and  yet  I almost 
see  her  waiting  by  the  fire  to-night.  Do  you  feel  like  a 
dark  combination  of  traitor  and  pickpocket  when  you 
think  of  that  girl  ? ” 

" Rather,”  returned  Light  wood.  "Do  you  ?” 

"Very  much  so.” 

Their  escort  strolled  back  again,  and  reported.  Di- 
vested of  its  various  lime-lights  and  shadows,  his  report 
went  to  the  effect  that  Gaffer  was  away  in  his  boat,  sup- 
posed to  be  on  his  old  look-out ; that  he  had  been  ex- 
pected last  high-water ; that  having  missed  it  for  some 
reason  or  other,  he  was  not,  according  to  his  usual  habits 
at  night,  to  be  counted  on  before  next  high-water,  or  it 
might  be  an  hour  or  so  later ; that  his  daughter,  sur- 
veyed through  the  wundow,  would  seem  to  be  expect- 
ing him,  for  the  supper  was  not  cooking,  but  set  out 
ready  to  be  cooked  ; that  it  would  be  high-water  at  about 
one,  and  that  it  was  now  barely  ten  ; that  there  was 
nothing  to  be  done  but  watch  and  wait ; that  the  in- 
former was  keeping  watch  at  the  instant  of  that  pres- 
ent reporting,  but  that  two  heads  were  better  than  one 
(especially  when  the  second  was_  Mr.  Inspector’s)  ; and 
that  the  reporter  meant  to  share  the  watch.  And  foras- 
much as  crouching  under  the  lee  of  a hauled-up  boat  on 
a night  when  it  blew  cold  and  strong,  and  when  the 
weather  was  varied  with  blasts  of  hail  at  times,  might 
be  wearisome  to  amateurs,  the  reporter  closed  with  the 
recommendation  that  the  two  gentlemen  should  remain, 
for  a while  at  any  rate,  in  their  present  quarters,  which 
were  weather-tight  and  warm. 

They  were  not  inclined  to  dispute  this  recommend- 
ation, but  they  wanted  to  know  where  they  could  join 
the  watchers  when  so  disposed.  Rather  than  trust  to  a 
verbal  description  of  the  place,  which  might  mislead, 
Eugene  (with  a less  weighty -sense  of  personal  trouble 
on  him  than  he  usually  had)  would  go  out  with  Mr.  In- 
spector, note  the  spot,  and  come  back. 

On  the  shelving  bank  of  the  river,  among  the  slimy 


TKACKING  THE  BIRD  OF  PREY. 


173 


stones  of  a causeway — not  the  special  causeway  of  the 
Six  Jolly  Fellowships,  which  had  a landing-place  of  its 
own,  but  another,  a little  removed,  and  very  near  to  the 
old  windmill  which  was  the  denounced  man’s  dwelling- 
place — were  a few  boats  ; some  moored  and  already  be- 
ginning to  float ; others,  hauled  up  above  the  reach  of 
the  tide.  Under  one  of  these  latter,  Eugene’s  companion 
disappeared.  And  when  Eugene  had  observed  its  posi- 
tion with  reference  to  the  other  boats,  and  had  made 
sure  that  he  could  not  miss  it,  he  turned  his  eyes  upon 
the  building  where,  as  he  had  been  told,  the  lonely  girl 
with  the  dark  hair  sat  by  the  Are. 

He  could  see  the  light  of  the  Are  shining  through  the 
window.  Perhaps  it  drew  him  on  to  look  in.  Perhaps 
he  had  come  out  with  the  express  intention.  That  part 
of  the  bank  having  rank  grass  growing  on  it,  there  was 
no  difficulty  in  getting  close,  without  any  noise  of  foot- 
steps : it  was  but  to  scramble  up  a ragged  face  of  pretty 
hard  mud  some  three  or  four  feet  high  and  come  upon 
the  grass  and  to  the  window.  He  came  to  the  window 
by  that  means. 

She  had  no  other  light  than  the  light  of  the  Are.  The 
unkindled  lamp  st^d  on  the  table.  She  sat  on  the 
ground,  looking  at  the  brazier,  with  her  face  leaning 
on  her  hand.  There  was  a kind  of  Aim  or  flicker  on 
her  face,  which  at  flrst  he  took  to  be  the  fltful  flrelight ; 
but,  on  a second  look,  he  saw  that  she  was  weeping.  A 
sad  and  solitary  spectacle,  as  shown  him  by  the  rising 
and  the  falling  of  the  Are. 

It  was  a little  window  of  but  four  pieces  of  glass,  and 
was  not  curtained  ; he  chose  it  because  the  large  win- 
dow near  it  was.  It  showed  him  the  room,  and  the  bills 
upon  the  wall  respecting  the  drowned  people  starting 
out  and  receding  by  turns.  But  he  glanced  slightly  at 
them,  though  he  looked  long  and  steadily  at  her.  A 
deep  rich  piece  of  colour,  with  the  brown  flush  of  her 
cheek  and  the  shining  lustre  of  her  hair,  though  sad 
and  solitary,  weeping  by  the  rising  and  tne  falling  of 
the  Are. 

She  started  up.  He  had  been  so  very  still,  that  he  felt 
sure  it  was  not  he  who  had  disturbed  her,  so  merely 
withdrew  from  the  window  and  stood  near  it  in  the 
shadow  of  the  wall.  She  opened  the  door,  and  said  in 
an  alarmed  tone,  Father^  was  that  you  calling  me  ?” 


174 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND.- 


And  again,  Father  ! ” And  once  again,  after 
listening,  Father!  I thought  I heard  you  call  me  twice 
before  1 ’’ 

No  response.  As  she  re-entered  at  the  door,  he  drop- 
ped over  the  bank  and  made  his  way  back,  among  the 
ooze  and  near  the  hiding-place,  to  Mortimer  Light  wood: 
to  whom  he  told  what  he  had  seen  of  the  girl,  and  how 
this  was  becoming  very  grim  indeed. 

If  the  real  man  feels  as  guilty  as  I do,’’  said  Eugene, 
^^he  is  remarkably  uncomfortable.” 

Influence  of  secrecy,”  suggested  Lightwood. 

I am  not  at  all  obliged  to  it  for  making  me  Guy 
Fawkes  in  the  vault  and  a Sneak  in  the  area  both  at 
once,”  said  Eugene.  ^'Give  me  some  more  of  that 
stuff.” 

Lightwood  helped  him  to  some  more  of  that  stuff,  but 
it  had  been  cooling,  and  didn’t  answer  now. 

Pooh,”  said  Eugene,  spitting  it  out  among  the  ashes. 

Tastes  like  the  wash  of  the  river.” 

Are  you  so  familiar  with  the  flavour  of  the  wash  of 
the  river?” 

'^I  seem  to  be  to-night.  I feel  as  if  I had  been  half 
drowned,  and  swallowing  a gallon^f  it.” 

Influence  of  locality,”  suggestea  Lightwood. 

You  are  mighty  learned  to-night,  you  and  your  in- 
fluences,” returned  Eugene.  How  long  shall  we  stay 
here?” 

How  long  do  you  think?” 

^Hf  I could  choose,  I should  say  a minute,”  replied 
Eugene,  ‘^^for  the  Jolly  Fellowship-Porters  are  not  the 
jolliest  dogs  I have  known.  But  I suppose  we  are  best 
here  until  they  turn  us  out  with  the  other  suspicious 
characters,  at  midnight.” 

Thereupon  he  stirred  the  Are,  and  sat  down  on  one 
side  of  it.  It  struck  eleven^  and  he  made  believe  to 
compose  himself  patiently.  But  gradually  he  took  the 
fidgets  in  one  leg,  and  then  in  the  other  leg,  and  then  in 
one  arm,  and  then  in  the  other  arm,  and  then  in  his 
chin,  and  then  in  his  back,  and  then  in  his  forehead, 
and  then  in  his  hair,  and  then  in  his  nose;  and  then  he 
stretched  himself  recumbent  on  two  chairs,  and  groaned; 
and  then  he  started  up. 

Invisible  insects  of  diabolical  activity  swarm  in  this 
place.  I am  tickled  and  twitched  all  over.  Mentally, 


175 


TRACKING  THE  BIRD  OF  PREY. 

I have  now  committed  a burglary  under  the  meanest 
circumstances,  and  the  myrmidons  of  justice  are  at  my 
heels.’’ 

I am  quite  as  bad,”  said  Lightwood,  sitting  up  facing 
him,  with  a tumbled  head,  after  going  through  some 
wonderful  evolutions,  in  which  his  head  had  been  the 
lowest  part  of  him.  This  restlessness  began  with  me 
long  ago.  All  the  time  you  were  out  I felt  like  Gulliver 
with  the  Lilliputians  firing  upon  him.” 

^^It  won’t  do,  Mortimer.  We  must  get  into  the  air; 
we  must  join  our  dear  friend  and  brother,  Riderhood. 
And  let  us  tranquillize  ourselves  by  making  a compact. 
Next  time  (with  a view  to  our  peace  of  mind)  we’ll 
commit  the  crime,  instead  of  taking  the  criminal.  You 
swear  it?  ” 

Certainly.” 

Sworn!  Let  Tippins  look  to  it.  Her  life’s  in  danger.” 

Mortimer  rang  the  bell  to  pay  the  score,  and  Bob  ap- 
peared to  transact  that  business  with  him  ; whom  Eu- 
gene, in  his  careless  extravagance,  asked  if  he  would 
like  a situation  in  the  lime-trade  ? 

Thankee  sir,  no  sir,”  said  Bob  : I’ve  a good  sitiwa- 
tion  here,  sir.” 

^^If  you  change  your  mind  at  any  time,”  returned 
Eugene,  come  to  me  at  my  works,  and  you’ll  always 
find  an  opening  in  the  lime-kiln.” 

Thankee  sir,”  said  Bob. 

This  is  my  partner,”  said  Eugene,  who  keeps  the 
books  and  attends  to  the  wages.  A fair  day’s  wages  for 
a fair  day’s  work  is  ever  mj  partner’s  motto.” 

^^And  a very  good  un’  it  is,  gentlemen,”  said  Bob, 
receiving  his  fee,  and  drawing  a bow  out  of  his  head 
with  his  right  hand,  very  much  as  he  would  have  drawn 
a pint  of  beer  out  of  the  beer  engine. 

Eugene,”  Mortimer  apostrophized  him,  laughing 
quite  heartily  when  they  were  alone  again,  ^'how  can 
you  be  so  ridiculous  ? ” 

I am  in  a ridiculous  humour,”  quoth  Eugene  ; I am 
a ridiculous  fellow.  Everything  is  ridiculous.  Come 
along  ! ” 

It  passed  into  Mortimer  Lightwood’s  mind  that  a 
change  of  some  sort,  best  expressed  perhaps  as  an 
intensification  of  all  that  was  wildest  and  most  negli- 
gent and  reckless  in  his  friend,  had  come  upon  him  in 


170 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


the  last  half-hour  or  so.  Thoroughly  used  to  him  as  he 
was,  he  found  something  new  and  strained  in  him  that 
was  for  the  moment  perplexing.  This  passed  into  his 
mind,  and  passed  out  again  ; but  he  remembered  it 
afterwards. 

''  There’s  where  she  sits,  you  see,”  said  Eugene,  when 
they  were  standing  under  the  bank,  roared  and  riven  at 
by  the  wind.  There’s  the  light  of  her  fire.” 

I’ll  take  a peep  through  the  windoV,”  said  Mortimer. 

''No,  don’t!”  Eugene  caught  him  by  the  arm. 
"Best  not  make  a show  of  her.  Come  to  our  honest 
friend.” 

He  led  him  to  the  post  of  watch,  and  they  both  drop- 
ped down  and  crept  under  the  lee  of  the  boat ; a better 
shelter  than  it  had  seemed  before,  being  directly  con- 
trasted with  the  blowing  wind  and  the  bare  night. 

" Mr.  Inspector  at  home  ?”  whispered  Eugene. 

" Here  I am,  sir.” 

" And  our  friend  of  the  perspiring  brow  is  at  the  far 
corner  there?  Good.  "Anything  happened?” 

" His  daughter  has  been  out,  thinking  she  heard  him 
calling,  unless  it  was  a sign  to  him  to  keep  out  of  the 
way.  It  might  have  been.” 

"It  might  have  been  Rule  Britannia,”  muttered 
Eugene,  " but  it  wasn’t.  Mortimer!  ” 

" Here!”  (On  the  other  side  of  Mr.  Inspector.) 

" Two  burglaries  now,  and  a forgery!” 

With  this  indication  of  his  depressed  state  of  mind, 
Eugene  fell  silent. 

They  were  all  silent  for  a long  while.  As  it  got  to  be 
flood-tide,  and  the  water  came  nearer  to  them,  noises 
on  the  river  became  more  frequent,  and  they  listened 
more.  To  the  turning  of  steam-paddles,  to  the  clinking 
of  iron  chain,  to  the  creaking  of  blocks,  to  the  measured 
working  of  oars,  to  the  occasional  violent  barking  of 
some  passing  dog  on  shipboard,  who  seemed  to  scent  them 
in  their  lying  hiding-place.  The  night  was  not  so  dark 
but  that,  besides  the  lights  at  bows  and  mastheads 
gliding  to  and  fro,  they  could  discern  some  shadowy 
bulk  attached;  and  now  and  then  a ghostly  lighter  with 
a large  dark  sail,  like  a warning  arm,  would  start  up 
very  near  them,  pass  on,  and  vanish.  At  this  time  of 
their  watch,  the  water  close  to  them  would  be  often 
agitated  by  some  impulsion  given  it  from  a distance. 


TRACKING  THE  BIRD  OF  PREY. 


177 


Often  they  believed  this  beat  and  plash  to  be  the  boat 
they  lay  in  wait  for,  running  in  ashore;  and  again  and 
again  they  would  have  started  up,  but  from  the  inimo- 
bility  with  which  the  informer,  well  used  to  the  river, 
kept  quiet  in  his  place. 

The  wind  carried  away  the  striking  of  the  great  mul- 
titude of  city  church  clocks,  for  those  lay  to  leeward  of 
them;  but  there  were  bells  to  windward  that  told  them 
of  its  being  One — Two — Three.  Without  that  aid  they 
would  have  known  how  the  night  wore,  by  the  falling 
of  the  tide,  recorded  in  the  appearance  of  an  ever-widen- 
ing black  wet  strip  of  shore,  and  the  emergence  of  the 
paved  causeway  from  the  river,  foot  by  foot. 

As  the  time  so  passed,  this  slinking  business  became 
a more  and  more  precarious  one.  It  would  seem  as  if 
the  man  had  some  intimation  of  what  was  . in  hand 
against  him,  or  had  taken  fright?  His  movements 
might  have  been  planned  to  gain  for  him,  in  getting 
beyond  their  reach,  twelve  hours’  advantage?  The 
honest  man  who  had  expended  the  sweat  of  his  brow 
became  uneasy,  and  began  to  complain  with  bitterness 
of  the  proneness  of  mankind  to  cheat  him — him  invested 
with  the  dignity  of  Labor! 

Their  retreat  was  so  chosen  that  while  they  could 
watch  the  river,  they  could  watch  the  house.  No  one 
had  passed  in  or  out,  since  the  daughter  thought  she 
heard  the  father  calling.  No  one  could  pass  in  or  out 
without  being  seen. 

But  it  will  be  light  at  five,”  said  Mr.  Inspector,  and 
then  we  shall  be  seen.” 

‘‘Look  here,”  said  Riderhood,  “what  do  you  say  to 
this?  He  may  have  been  lurking  in  and  out,  and  just 
holding  his  own  betwixt  two  or  three  bridges,  for  hours 
back.” 

“What  do  you  make  of  that?”  said  Mr.  Inspector. 
Stoical,  but  contradictor^^. 

“ He  may  be  doing  so  at  this  present  time.” 

“ What  do  you  make  of  that  .^”  said  Mr.  Inspector. 

“ My  boat’s  among  them  boats  here  at  the  cause’ay.” 

“And  what  do  you  make  of  your  boat?”  said  Mr. 
Inspector. 

“ What  if  I put  off  in  her  and  take  a look  round?  I 
know  his  ways,  and  the  likely  nooks  he  favours.  I know 
where  he’d  be  at  such  a time  of  the  tide,  and  where  he’d 
VOL.  I.  12 


178 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


be  at  such  another  time.  Ain’t  I been  his  pardner? 
None  of  you  need  show.  None  of  you  need  stir.  I can 
shove  her  off  without  help;  and  as  to  me  being  seen, 
I’m  about  at  all  times.” 

You  might  have  given  a worse  opinion,”  said  Mr. 
Inspector,  after  brief  consideration.  ''  Try  it.” 

Stop  a bit.  Let’s  work  it  out.  If  I want  you  I’ll 
drop  round  under  the  Fellowships  and  tip  you  a 
whistle.” 

If  I might  so  far  presume  as  to  offer  a suggestion 
to  my  honourable  and  gallant  friend,  whose  knowledge 
of  naval  matters  far  be  it  from  me  to  impeach,”  Eugene 
struck  in  with  great  deliberation,  ^^it  would  be  that  to 
tip  a whistle  is  to  advertise  mystery  and  invite  specu- 
lation. My  honourable  and  gallant  friend  will,  I trust, 
excuse  me,  as  an  independent  member,  for  throwing 
out  a remark  which  I feel  to  be  due  to  this  house  and 
the  country.” 

"^Was  that  the  T’other  Governor,  or  Lawyer  Light- 
wood  ? ” asked  Riderhood.  For  they  spoke  as  they 
crouched  or  lay,  without  seeing  one  another’s  faces. 

^^In  reply  to  the  question  put  by  my  honourable  and 
gallant  friend,”  said  Eugene,  who  was  lying  on  his  back 
with  his  hat  on  his  face,  as  an  attitude  highly  expres- 
sive of  watchfulness,  I can  have  no  hesitation  in 
replying  (it  not  being  inconsistent  with  the  public  ser- 
vice) that  those  accents  were  the  accents  of  the  T'  other 
Governor.” 

You've  tolerable  good  eyes,  ain't  you.  Governor?” 
You've  all  tolerable  good  eyes,  ain’t  you  ?”  demanded 
the  informer. 

All. 

Then  if  I row  up  under  the  Fellowships  and  lay 
there,  no  need  to  whistle.  You'll  make  out  that  there’s 
a speck  of  something  or  another  there,  and  you'll  know 
it’s  me,  and  you'll  come  down  that  cause’ay  to  me. 
Understood  all  ?” 

Understood  all. 

''  Off  she  goes  then  !” 

In  a moment,  with  the  wind  cutting  keenly  at  him 
sideways,  he  was  staggering  down  to  his  boat ; in  a few 
moments  he  was  clear,  and  creeping  up  the  river  under 
their  own  shore. 

Eugene  had  raised  himself  on  his  elbow  to  look  into 


TRACKING  THE  BIRD  OF  PREY. 


179 


the  darkness  after  him.  I wish  the  boat  of  my 
honourable  and  gallant  friend/’  he  murmured,  lying 
down  again  and  speaking  into  his  hat,  ''may  be  endowed 
with  philanthropy  enough  to  turn  bottom-upward  and 
extinguish  him  ! — Mortimer.” 

" My  honourable  friend.” 

" Three  burglaries,  two  forgeries,  and  a midnight 
assassination.” 

Yet  in  spite  of  having  those  weights  on  his  conscience, 
Eugene  was  somewhat  enlivened  by  the  late  slight 
change  in  the  circumstances  of  affairs.  So  were  his 
two  companions.  Its  being  a change  was  everything. 
The  suspense  seemed  to  have  taken  a new  lease,  and  to 
have  begun  afresh  from  a recent  date.  There  was 
something  additional  to  look  for.  They  were  all  three 
more  sharply  on  the  alert,  and  less  deadened  by  the 
miserable  iilfiuences  of  the  place  and  time. 

More  than  an  hour  had  passed,  and  they  were  even 
dozing,  when  one  of  the  three — each  said  it  was  he,  and 
he  had  not  dozed — made  out  Riderhood  in  his  boat  at 
the  spot  agreed  on.  They  sprang  up,  came  out 
from  their  shelter,  and  went  down  to  him.  When 
he  saw  them  coming  he  dropped  alongside  the  cause- 
way ; so  that  they,  standing  on  the  causeway,  could 
speak  with  him  in  whispers,  under  the  shadowy  mass 
of  the  Six  Jolly  Fellowship-Porters  fast  asleep. 

"Blest  if  I can  make  it  out!”  said  he,  staring  at 
them. 

" Make  out  what  ? Have  you  seen  him  ?” 

"No.” 

"What  have  you  seen?”  asked  Lightwood.  For  he 
was  staring  at  them  in  the  strangest  way. 

" Pve  seen  his  boat.” 

"Not  empty  ?” 

"Yes,  empty.  And  what’s  more, — adrift.  And 
what’s  more, — with  one  scull  gone.  And  what’s  more, 
.—with  t’other  scull  jammed  in  the  thowels,  and  broke 
short  off.  And  what’s  more, — the  boat’s  drove  tight  by 
the  tide,  ’atwixt  two  tiers  of  barges.  And  what’s  more, 
— he’s  in  luck  again,  by  George  if  he  ain’t  ? ” 


180 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  BIRD  OF  PREY  BROUGHT  DOWN. 

COLD  on  the  shore,  in  the  raw  cold  of  that  leaden 
crisis  in  the  four-and-twenty  hours  when  the  vital 
force  of  all  the  noblest  and  prettiest  things  that  live  is 
at  its  lowest,  the  three  watchers  looked  each  at  the 
blank  faces  of  the  other  two,  and  all  at  the  blank  face 
of  Riderhood  in  his  boat. 

Gaffer’s  boat,  Gaffer  in  luck  again,  and  yet  no 
Gaffer  ! ” So  spake  Riderhood,  staring  disconsolate. 

As  if  with  one  accord,  they  all  turned  their  eyes 
towards  the  light  of  the  fixe  shining  through  the  win- 
dow. It  was  fainter  and  duller.  Perhaps  fire,  like  the 
higher  animal  and  vegetable  life  it  helps  to  sustain,  has 
its  greatest  tendency  towards  death  when  the  night  is 
dying,  and  the  day  is  not  yet  born. 

''If  it  was  me  that  had  the  law  of  this  here  job  in 
hand,”  growled  Riderhood,  with  a threatening  shake  of 
his  head,  " blest  if  I wouldn’t  lay  hold  of  her,  at  any 
rate  ! ” 

" Ay,  but  it  is  not  you,”  said  Eugene,  with  something 
so  suddenly  fierce  in  him  that  the  informer  returned 
submissively  : "Well,  well,  well.  T’other  Governor,  I 
didn’t  say  it  v/as.  A man  may  speak.” 

" And  vermin  may  be  silent,”  said  Eugene.  "Hold 
your  tongue,  you  water-rat ! ” 

Astonished  by  his  friend’s  unusual  heat,  Lightwood 
stared  too,  and  then  said  : " What  can  have  become  of 
this  man  ? ” 

" Can’t  imagine.  Unless  he  dived  overboard.”  The 
informer  wiped  his  brow  ruefully  as  he  said  it,  sitting 
in  his  boat  and  always  staring  disconsolate. 

" Did  you  make  his  boat  fast  ?” 

" She’s  fast  enough  till  the  tide  runs  back.  I couldn’t 
make  her  faster  than  she  is.  Come  aboard  of  mine,  arid 
see  for  your  ownselves.” 

There  was  a little  backwardness  in  complying,  for  the 
freight  looked  too  much  for  the  boat ; but  on  Rider- 
hood’s  protesting  "that  he  had  had  half  a dozen,  dead 
and  alive,  in  her  afore  now,  and  she  was  nothing  deep 
in  the  water  nor  down  in  the  stern  even  then,  to  speak 


THE  BIRD  OF  PREY  BROUGHT  DOWN.  181 

of/’  they  carefully  took  their  places,  and  trimmed  the 
crazy  thing.  While  they  were  doing  so,  Riderhood  still 
sat  staring  disconsolate. 

All  right.  Gflve  way  !”  said  Light  wood. 

^'Give  way,  by  George  !”  repeated  Riderhood,  before 
shoving  off.  If  he's  gone  and  made  off  any  how 
Lawyer  Lightwood,  it’s  enough  to  make  me  give  way 
in  a different  manner.  But  he  always  was  a cheat,  con- 
found him ! He  always  was  a infernal  cheat,  was 
Gaffer.  Nothing  straight-for’ard,  nothing  on  the  square. 
So  mean,  so  underhanded.  Never  going  through  with 
a thing,  nor  carrying  it  out  like  a man  ! ” 

Halloh  ! Steady  ! ” cried  Eugene  (he  had  recovered 
immediately  on  embarking),  as  they  bumped  heavily 
against  a pile  ; and  then  in  a lower  voice  reversed  his 
late  apostrophe  by  remarking  wish  the  boat  of  my 
honourable  and  gallant  friend  may  be  endowed  with 
philanthropy  enough  not  to  turn  bottom-upward  and 
extinguish  us  !)  Steady,  steady  ! Sit  close,  Mortimer. 
Here’s  the  hail  again.  See  how  it  flies,  like  a troop  of 
wild  cats,  at  Mr.  Riderhood’s  eyes  ! ” 

Indeed  he  had  the  full  benefit  of  it,  and  it  mauled 
him,  though  he  bent  his  head  low  and  tried  to  present 
nothing  but  the  mangy  cap  to  it,  that  he  dropped  under 
the  lee  of  a tier  of  shipping,  and  they  lay  there  uniil  it 
was  over.  The  squall  had  come  up,  like  a spiteful  mes- 
senger before  the  morning  ; there  followed  in  its  wake 
a ragged  tier  of  light  which  ripped  the  dark  clouds  until 
they  showed  a great  grey  hole  of  day. 

They  were  all  shivering,  and  everything  about  them 
seemed  to  be  shivering ; the  river  itself,  craft,  rigging, 
sails,  such  early  smoke  as  there  yet  was  on  the  shore. 
Black  with  wet,  and  altered  to  the  eye  by  white  patches 
of  hail  and  sleet,  the  huddled  buildings  looked  lower 
than  usual,  as  if  they  were  cowering,  and  had  shrunk 
with  the  cold.  Very  little  life  was  to  be  seen  on  either 
bank,  windows  and  doors  were  shut,  and  the  staring- 
black  and  white  letters  upon  wharves  and  warehouses 
^Hooked,”  said  Eugene  to  Mortimer,  ^Gike  inscriptions 
over  the  graves  of  dead  businesses.” 

As  they  glided  slowly  on,  keeping  under  the  shore 
and  sneaking  in  and  out  among  the  shipping  by  back- 
alleys  of  water,  in  a pilfering  way  that  seemed  to  be 
their  boatman’s  normal  manner  of  progression^  all  the 


182 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


objects  among  which  they  crept  were  so  huge  in  con- 
trast with  their  wretched  boat,  as  to  threaten  to  crush 
it.  Not  a ship’s  hull,  with  its  rusty  iron  links  of  cable 
run  out  of  hawse-holes  long  discoloured  with  the  iron’s 
rusty  tears,  but  seemed  to  be  there  with  a fell  intention. 
Not  a figure-head  but  had  the  menacing  look  of  burst- 
ing forward  to  run  them  down.  Not  a sluice-gate,  or  a 
painted  scale  upon  a post  or  wall,  showing  the  depth  of 
water,  but  seemed  to  hint,  like  the  dreadfully  facetious 
Wolf  in  bed  in  Grandmamma’s  cottage,  That’s  to 
drown  you  in,  my  dears  ! ” Not  a lumbering  black  barge, 
with  its  cracked  and  blistered  side  impending  over 
them,  but  seemed  to  suck  at  the  river  with  a thirst  for 
sucking  them  under.  And  everything  so  vaunted  the 
spoiling  influences  of  water — discolored  copper,  rotten 
wood,  honeycombed  stone,  green  dark  deposit — that 
the  after-consequences  of  being  crushed,  sucked  under, 
and  drawn  down,  looked  as  ugly  to  the  imagination  as 
the  main  event. 

Some  half-hour  of  this  work,  and  Riderhood  unship- 
ped his  sculls,  stood  holding  on  to  a barge,  and  hand 
over  hand  long-wise  along  the  barge’s  side,  gradually 
worked  his  boat  under  her  head  into  a secret  little 
nook  of  scummy  water.  And  driven  into  that  nook  and 
wedged  as  he  had  described,  was  Gaffer’s  boat;  that 
boat  with  the  stain  still  in  it,  bearing  some  resemblance 
to  a muffled  human  form. 

Now  tell  me  I’m  a liar!  ” said  the  honest  man. 

With  a morbid  expectation,”  murmured  Eugene  to 
Lightwood,  that  somebody  is  always  going  to  tell  him 
the  truth. ’^) 

This  is  Hexam’s  boat,”  said  Mr.  Inspector.  I know 
her  well.” 

Look  at  the  broken  scull.  Look  at  the  t’other  scull 
gone.  Now  tell  me  I am  a liar!”  said  the  honest 
man. 

Mr.  Inspector  stepped  into  the  boat.  Eugene  and 
Mortimer  looked  on. 

''  And  see  now!”  added  Riderhood,  creeping  aft,  and 
showing  a stretched  rope  made  fast  there  and  towing 
overboard.  Didn’t  I tell  you  he  was  in  luck  again  ?” 

Haul  in,”  said  Mr.  Inspector. 

''  Easy  to  say  haul  in,”  answered  Riderhood.  ^^Not  so 
easy  done.  His  luck’s  got  fouled  under  the  keels  of  the 


THE  BIRD  OF  PREY  BROUGHT  DOWN.  1^3 

barges.  I tried  to  haul  in  last  time,  but  I couldn’t.  See 
how  taut  the  line  is!  ” 

I must  have  it  up/’  said  Mr.  Inspector.  I am  go-ing 
to  take  this  boat  ashore,  and  his  luck  along  with  it.  Try 
easy  now.” 

He  tried  easy  now;  but  the  luck  resisted;  wouldn’t 
come. 

‘‘1  mean  to  have  it,  and  the  boat  too/’  said  Mr.  In- 
spector, playing  the  line. 

But  still  the  luck  resisted;  wouldn’t  come. 

^^Take  care,”  said  Riderhood.  ^Wou’ll  disfigure. 
Or  pull  asunder  perhaps.” 

I am  not  going  to  do  either,  not  even  to  your 
Grandmother,”  said  Mr.  Inspector;  but  I mean  to  have 
it.  Come!”  he  added,  at  once  persuasively  and  with 
authority  to  the  hidden  object  in  the  water,  as  he  played 
the  line  again;  ^Gt’s  no  good  this  sort  of  game,  you 
know.  You  7nust  come  up.  I mean  to  have  you.” 

There  was  so  much  virtue  in  this  distinctly  and  de- 
cidedly meaning  to  have  it,  tha^  R yielded  a little,  even 
while  the  line  was  played. 

^^I  told  you  so,”  quoth  Mr.  Inspector,  pulling  off  his 
outer  coat,  and  leaning  well  over  the  stern  with  a will. 

Come!” 

It  was  an  awful  sort  of  fishing,  but  it  no  more  discon- 
certed Mr.  Inspector  than  if  he  had  been  fishing  in  a 
punt  on  a summer  evening  by  some  soothing  weir  high 
up  the  peaceful  river.  After  certain  minutes,  and  a 
few  directions  to  the  rest  to  ease  her  a little  for’ard,” 
and  now  ease  her  a trifle  aft,”  and  the  like,  he  said 
composedly,  all  clear  !”  and  the  line  and  the  boat  came 
free  together. 

Accepting  Lightwood’s  proffered  hand  to  help  him  up, 
he  then  put  on  his  coat,  and  said  to  Riderhood,  Hand 
me  over  those  spare  sculls  of  yours,  and  I’ll  pull  this  in 
to  the  nearest  stairs.  Go  ahead  you,  and  keep  out  in 
pretty  open  water,  that  I mayn’t  get  fouled  again.” 

His  directions  were  obeyed,  and  they  pulled  ashore 
directly  ; two  in  one  boat,  two  in  the  other. 

Now,”  said  Mr.  Inspector,  again  to  Riderhood  when 
they  were  all  on  the  slushy' stones;  you  have  had  more 
practice  in  this  than  I have  had,  and  ought  to  be  a 
better  workmen  at  it.  Undo  the  tow-rope,  and  we’ll 
help  you  haul  in.” 


1B4 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

Riderhood  got  into  the  boat  accordingly.  It  appeared 
as  if  he  had  scarcely  had  a moment’s  time  to  touch  the 
rope  or  look  over  the  stern,  when  he  came  scrambling 
back,  as  pale  as  the  morning,  and  gasped  out : 

By  the  Lord,  he’s  done  me  ?” 

What  do  you  mean  ?”  they  all  demanded. 

He  pointed  behind  him  at  the  boat,  and  gasped  to 
that  degree  that  he  dropped  upon  the  stones  to  get  his 
breath. 

Gaffer’s  done. me.  It’s  Gaffer  ! ” 

They  ran  to  the  rope,  leaving  him  gasping  there.  Soon, 
the  form  of  the  bird  of  prey,  dead  some  hours,  lay 
stretched  upon  the  shore,  with  a new  blast  storming  at 
it  and  clotting  the  wet  hair  with  hailstones. 

Father,  was  that  you  calling  me  ? Father  ! I thought 
I heard  you  call  me  twice  before  ! Words  never  to  be 
answered,  those,  upon  the  earth-side  of  the  grave.  The 
wind  sweeps  jeeringly  over  Father,  whips  him  with  the 
frayed  ends  of  his  dress  and  his  jagged  hair,  tries  to 
turn  him  where  he  lies  stark  on  his  back,  and  force  his 
face  towards  the  rising  sun,  that  he  may  be  shamed 
the  more.  A lull,  and  the  wind  is  secret  and  prying 
with  him;  lifts  and  lets  falls  a rag  ; hides  palpitating 
under  another  rag  ; runs  nimbly  through  his  hair  and 
beard.  Then,  in  a rush,  it  cruelly  taunts  him.  Father, 
was  that  you  calling  me?  Was  it  you,  the  voiceless  and 
the  dead  ? Was  it  you,  thus  buffeted  as  you  lie  here  in 
a heap  ? Was  it  you  thus  baptized  unto  Death,  with 
these  flying  impurities  now  flung  upon  your  face  ? 
Why  not  speak,Father  ? Soaking  into  this  filthy  ground 
as  you  lie  here,  is  your  own  shape.  Did  you  never  see 
such  a shape  soaked  into  your  boat  ? Speak,  Father. 
Speak  to  us,  the  winds,  the  only  listeners  left  you  ! 

Now  see,”  said  Mr.  Inspector,  after  mature  delibera- 
tion : kneeling  on  one  knee  beside  the  body,  when  they 
had  stood  looking  down  on  the  drowned  man,  as  he  had 
many  a time  looked  dow2i  on  many  another  man  : the 
way  of  it  was  this.  Of  course  you  gentlemen  hardly 
failed  to  observe  that  he  was  towing  by  the  neck  and 
arms.” 

They  had  helped  to  release  the  rope,  and  of  course 
not. 

And  you  will  have  observed  before,  and  you  will  ob- 
serve now,  that  this  knot,  which  Avas  drawn  chock 


THE  BIRD  OF  PREY  BROUGHT  DOWN. 


THE  BIRD  OF  PREY  BROUGHT  DOWN.  185 


tight  round  his  neck  by  the  strain  of  his  own  arms,  is 
a slip-knot  holding  it  up  for  demonstration. 

Plain  enough. 

Likewise  you  will  have  observed  how  he  had  run 
the  other  end  of  this  rope  to  his  boat.’’ 

It  had  the  curves  and  indentations  in  it  still,  where  it 
had  been  twined  and  bound. 

^^Now  see,”  said  Mr.  Inspector,  ^^see  how  it  works 
round  upon  him.  IPs  a wild  tempestuous  evening  when 
this  man  that  was,”  stooping  to  wipe  some  hailstones 
out  of  his  hair  with  an  end  of  his  own  drowned  jacket, 
— there  ! Now  he’s  more  like  himself,  though  he’s 
badly  bruised.  When  this  man  that  was,  rows  out  upon 
the  river  on  his  usual  lay,  he  carries  with  him  this 
coil  of  rope.  He  always  carries  with  him  this  coil  of 
rope.  It’s  as  well  known  to  me  as  he  was  himself. 
Sometimes  it  lay  in  the  bottom  of  his  boat.  Sometimes 
he  hung  it  loose  around  his  neck.  He  was  a light 
dresser  was  this  man  ; — you  see  ? ” lifting  the  loose 
neckerchief  over  his  breast,  and  taking  the  opportu- 
nity of  wiping  the  dead  lips  with  it — ''  and  when  it  was 
wet,  or  freezing,  or  blew  cold,  he  would  hang  this  coil 
of  line  round  his  neck.  Last  evening  he  does  this. 
Worse  for  him  ! He  dodges  about  in  his  boat,  does  this 
man,  till  he  gets  chilled.  His  hands,”  taking  up  one  of 
them,  which  dropped  like  a leaden  weight,  ''get  numbed. 
He  sees  some  object  that’s  in  his  way  of  business,  float- 
ing. He  makes  ready  to  secure  that  object.  He  un- 
winds the  end  of  his  coil  that  he  wants  to  take  some 
turns  on  in  his  boat,  and  he  takes  turns  enough  on  it  to 
secure  that  it  shan’t  run  out.  He  makes  it  too  secure, 
as  it  happens.  He  is  a little  longer  about  this  than 
usual,  his  hands  being  numbed.  His  object  drifts  up 
before  he  is  quite  ready  for  it.  He  catches  at  it,  thinks 
he’ll  make  sure  of  the  contents  of  the  pockets  anyhow, 
in  case  he  should  be  parted  from  it,  bends  right  over  the 
stern,  and  in  one  of  those  heavy  squalls,  or  in  the  cross- 
swell of  two  steamers,  or  ^in  not  being  quite  prepared, 
or  through  all  or  most  or  some,  gets  a lurch,  overbal- 
ances, and  goes  headforemost  overboard.  Now  see ! 
He  can  swim,  can  this  man,  and  instantly  he  strikes 
out*.  But  in  such  striking-out  he  tangles  his  arms,  pulls 
strong  on  the  slip-knot,  and  it  runs  home.  The  object  he 
had  expected  to  take  in  tow^  floats  by,  and  his  own  boat 


186 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


tows  him  dead  to  where  we  found  him,  all  entangled  in 
his  own  line.  You’ll  ask  me  how  I make  out  about  the 
pockets  ? First,  I’ll  tell  you  more  ; there  was  silver  in 
’em.  How  do  I make  that  out  ? Simple  and  satisfac- 
tory. Because  he’s  got  it  here.”  The  lecturer  held  up 
the  tightly- clenched  right  hand. 

What  is  to  be  done  with  the  remains?  ” asked  Light- 
wood. 

'^If  you  wouldn’t  object  to  standing  by  him  half  a 
minute,  sir,”  was  the  reply,  Til  find  the  nearest  of  our 
men  to  come  and  take  charge  of  him; — I still  call  it  him, 
you  see,”  said  Mr.  Inspector,  looking  back  as  he  went, 
with  a philosophical  smile  upon  the  force  of  habit. 

Eugene,”  said  Lightwood — and  was  about  to  add 

we  may  wait  at  a little  distance,”  when  turning  his 
head  he  found  that  no  Eugene  was  there.  He  raised  his 
voice  and  called  '^Eugene  ! Holloa  !”  But  no  Eugene 
replied. 

It  was  broad  daylight  now,  and  he  looked  about.  But 
no  Eugene  was  in  all  the  view. 

Mr.  Inspector  speedily  returning  down  the  wooden 
stairs,  with  a police  constable,  Lightwood  asked  him  if 
he  had  seen  his  friend  leave  them?  Mr.  Inspector  could 
not  exactly  say  that  he  had  seen  him  go,  but  had  noticed 
that  he  was  restless. 

"^Singular  and  entertaining  combination,  sir,  your 
friend.  ” 

I wish  it  had  not  been  a part  of  his  singular  and  en- 
tertaining combination  to  give  me  the  slip  under  these 
dreary  circumstances  at  this  time  of  the  morning,”  said 
Lightwood.  Can  we  get  anything  hot  to  drink?” 

We  could,  and  w’e  did.  In  a public-house  kitchen 
with  a large  fire.  We  got  hot  brandy  and  water,  and  it 
revived  us  wonderfully.  Mr.  Inspector  having  to  Mr. 
Riderhood  announced  his  official  intention  of  keeping 
his  eye  upon  him,”  stood  him  in  a corner  of  the  fireplace, 
like  a wet  umbrella,  and  took  no  further  outward  and 
visible  notice  of  that  honest  man,  except  ordering  a 
separate  service  of  brandy  and  water  for  him;  appar- 
ently out  of  the  public  funds. 

As  Mortimer  Lightwood  sat  before  the  blazing  fire, 
conscious  of  drinking  brandy  and  water  then  and  there 
in  his  sleep,  and  yet  at  one  and  the  same  time  drinking 
burnt  sherry  at  the  Six  Jolly  Fellowships,  and  lying 


THE  BIRD  OF  PREY  BROUGHT  DOWN.  187 


under  the  boat  on  the  river  shore,  and  sitting  in  the 
boat  that  Riderhood  rowed,  and  listening  to  the  lecture 
recently  concluded,  and  having  to  dine  in  the  Temple 
with  an  unknown  man,  who  described  himself  as  M.  R. 
F.  Eugene  Gaffer  Harmon,  and  said  he  lived  at  Hail- 
storm,— as  he  passed  through  these  curious  vicissitudes 
of  fatigue  and  slumber,  arranged  upon  the  scale  of  a 
dozen  hours  to  the  second,  he  became  aware  of  answer- 
ing aloud  a communication  of  pressing  importance  that 
had  never  been  made  to  him,  and  then  turned  it  into  a 
cough  on  beholding  Mr.  Inspector.  For,  he  felt,  with 
some  natural  indignation,  that  that  functionary  might 
otherwise  suspect  him  of  having  closed  his  eyes,  or 
wandered  in  his  attention. 

^^Here  just  before  us,  you  see,”  said  Mr.  Inspector. 

I see,”  said  Lightwood,  with  dignity. 

And  had  hot  brandy  and  water  too,  you  see,”  said 
Mr.  Inspector,  and  then  cut  off  a^  a great  rate.” 
Who?”  said  Lightwood. 

‘^Wour  friend,  you  know.” 

/know,”  he  replied,  again  with  dignity. 

After  hearing,  in  a mist  through  which  Mr.  Inspector 
loomed  vague  and  large,  that  the  officer  took  upon  him- 
self to  prepare  the  dead  man’s  daughter  for  what  had 
befallen  in  the  night,  and  generally  that  he  took  every- 
thing upon  himself,  Mortimer  Lightwood  stumbled  in 
his  sleep  to  a cab-stand,  called  a cab,  and  had  entered 
the  army  and  committed  a capital  military  offence  and 
been  tried  by  court  martial  and  found  guilty  and  had 
arranged  his  affairs  and  been  marched  out  to  be  shot, 
before  the  door  banged. 

Hard  work  rowing  the  cab  through  the  City  to  the 
Temple,  for  a cup  of  from  five  to  ten  thousand  pounds 
value,  given  by  Mr.  Boffin  ; and  hard  work  holding  forth 
at  that  immeasurable  length  to  Eugene  (when  he  had 
been  rescued  with  a rope  from  the  running  pavement) 
for  making  off  in  that  extraordinary  manner!  But  he 
offered  such  ample  apologies,  and  was  so  very  penitent, 
that  when  Lightwood  got  out  of  the  cab,  he  gave  the 
driver  a.  particular  charge  to  be  careful  of  him.  Which 
the  driver  (knowing  there  was  no  other  fare  left  inside) 
stared  at  prodigiously. 

In  short,  the  night’s  work  had  so  exhausted  and  worn 
out  this  actor  in  it,  that  he  had  become  a mere  somnam- 


188 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


bulist.  He  was  too  tired  to  rest  in  his  sleep,  until  he 
was  even  tired  out  of  being  too  tired,  and  dropped  into 
oblivion.  Late  in  the  afternoon  he  awoke,  and  in  some 
anxiety  sent  round  to  Eugene’s  lodging  hard  by,  to  in- 
quire if  he  were  up  yet  ? 

Oh  yes,  he  was  up.  In  fact,  he  had  not  been  to  bed. 
He  had  just  come  home.  And  here  he  was,  close  fol- 
lowing on  the  heels  of  the  message. 

Why  what  bloodshot,  draggled,  dishevelled  spec- 
tacle is  this  ! ” cried  Mortimer. 

^^Are  my  feathers  so  very  much  rumpled?”  said 
Eugene  coolly  going  up  to  the  looking-glass.  ''  They 
are  rather  out  of  sorts.  But  consider.  Such  a night  for 
plumage  ! ” 

Such  a night?  ” repeated  Mortimer.  What  became 
of  you  in  the  morning?” 

^'My  dear  fellow,”  said  Eugene,  sitting  on  his  bed, 
felt  that  we  had»bored  one  another  so  long,  that  an 
unbroken  continuance  of  those  relations  must  inevitably 
terminate  in  our  flying  to  opposite  points  of  the  earth. 
I also  felt  that  I had  committed  every  crime  in  the  New- 
gate Calendar.  So,  for  mingled  considerations  of  friend- 
ship and  felony,  I took  a walk,” 


CHAPTER  XV. 

TWO  NEW  SERVANTS. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin  sat  after  breakfast,  in  the  Bower, 
a prey  to  prosperity.  Mr.  Boffin’s  face  denoted 
Care  and  Complication.  Many  disordered  papers  were 
before  him,  and  he  looked  at  them  about  as  hopefully 
as  an  innocent  civilian  might  look  at  a crowd  of  troops 
whom  he  was  required  at  five  minutes’  notice  to  man- 
oeuvre and  review.  He  had  been  engaged  in  some  at- 
tempts to  make  notes  of  these  papers  ; but  being  troubled 
(as  men  of  his  stamp  often  are)  with  an  exceedingly 
distrustful  and  corrective  thumb,  that  busy  member 
had  so  often  interposed  to  smear  his  notes,  that  they 
were  little  more  legible  than  the  various  impressions  of 
itself,  which  blurred  his  nose  and  forehead.  It  is  curious 


TWO  NEW  SERVANTS. 


18fl 

* 

to  consider,  in  such  a case  as  Mr.  Boffin’s,  what  a cheap 
article  ink  is,  and  how  far  it  may  be  made  to  go.  As  a ^ 
grain  of  musk  will  scent  a drawer  for  many  years,  and  * 
still  lose  nothing  appreciable  of  its  original  weight,  so 
a half  pennyworth  of  ink  would  blot  Mr.  Boffin  to  the 
roots  of  his  hair  and  the  calves  of  his  legs,  without  in- 
scribing a line  on  the  paper  before  him,  or  appearing  to 
diminish  in  the  inkstand. 

Mr.  Boffin  was  in  such  severe  literary  difficulties  that 
his  eyes  were  prominent  and  fixed,  and  his  breathing 
was  stentorous,  when,  to  the  great  relief  of  Mrs.  Boffin, 
who  observed  these  symptoms  with  alarm,  the  yard 
bell  rang. 

Who’s  that,  I wonder  ! ” said  Mrs.  Boffin. 

Mr.  Boffin  drew  a long  breath,  laid  down  his  pen, 
looked  at  his  notes  as  doubting  whether  he  had  the 
pleasure  of  their  acquaintance,  and  appeared,  on  a 
second  persual  of  their  countenances,  to  be  confirmed 
in  his  impression  that  he  had  not,  when  there  was  an- 
nounced by  the  hammer-headed  young  man  : 

"^Mr.  Rokesmith.” 

'^Oh!”  said  Mr.  Boffin.  ^^Oh  indeed!  Our  and  the 
Wilfers’  Mutual  Friend,  my  dear.  Yes.  Ask  him  to 
come  in.” 

Mr.  Rokesmith  appeared. 

''Sit  down,  sir,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  shaking  hands  with 
him.  "Mrs.  Boffin  you’re  already ' acquainted  with. 
Well,  sir,  I am  rather  unprepared  to  see  you,  for,  to  tell 
you  the  truth,  I’ve  been  so  busy  with  one  thing  and  an- 
other, that  I’ve  not  had  time  to  turn  your  offer  over.” 

"That’s  apology  for ‘ both  of  us:  for  Mr.  Boffin,  and 
for  me  as  well,”  said  the  smiling  Mrs.  Boffin.  "But 
Lor’!  we  can  talk  it  over  now;  can’t  us?  ” 

Mr.  Rokesmith  bowed,  thanked  her,  and  said  he 
hoped  so. 

" Let  me  see  then,”  resumed  Mr.  Boffin,  with  his  hand 
to  his  chin.  " It  was  Secretary  that  you  named;  wasn't 
it?” 

"1  said  Secretary,”  assented  Mr.  Rokesmith. 

"It  rather  puzzled  me  at  the  time,”  said  Mr.  Boffin, 
"and  it  rather  puzzled  me  and  Mrs.  Boffin  when  we 
spoke  of  it  afterwards,  because  (not  to  make  a mystery 
of  our  belief)  we  have  always  believed-a  Secretary  to  be 
a piece  of  furniture,  mostly  of  mahogany,  lined  with 


190 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


green  baize  or  leather,  with  a lot  of  little  drawers  in  it. 
Now,  you  won’t  think  I take  a liberty  when  I mention 
That  you  certainly  ain’t 

Certainly  not,  saoid  Mr.  Rokesmith.  But  he  had  used 
the  word  in  the  sense  of  Steward. 

''Why,  as  to  Steward,  you  see,”  returned  Mr.  Boffin, 
with  his  hand  still  to  his  chin,  "the  odds  are  that  Mrs. 
Boffin  and  me  may  never  go  upon  the  water.  Being 
both  bad  sailors,  we  should  want  a Steward  if  we  did; 
but  there’s  generally  one  provided.” 

Mr.  Rokesmith  again  explained;  defining  the  duties 
he  sought  to  undertake,  as  those  of  general  superinten-^ 
dent,  or  manager,  or  over-looker,  or  man  of  business. 

"Now,  for  instance — come!”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  in  his 
pouncing  way.  " If  you  entered  my  employment,  what 
would  you  do?” 

" I would  keep  exact  accounts  of  all  the  expenditure 
you  sanctioned,  Mr.  Boffin.  I would  write  your  letters, 
under  your  directions.  I would  transact  your  business 
with  people  in  your  pay  or  employment.  I would,”  with 
a glance  and  a half -smile  at  the  table,  "arrange  your 
papers — ” 

Mr.  Boffin  rubbed  his  inky  ear,  and  looked  at  his 
wife. 

" — And  so  arrange  them  as  to  have  them  always  in 
order  for  immediate  reference,  with  a note  of  the  con- 
ents  of  each  outside  it.” 

" I tell  you  what,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  slowly  crumpling 
his  own  blotted  note  in  his  hand;  " if  you’ll  turn  to  at 
these  present  papers,  and  see  what  you  can  make  of 
’em,  I shall  know  better  what  I can  make  of  you.” 

No  sooner  said  than  done.  Relinquishing  his  hat  and 
gloves,  Mr.  Rokesmith  sat  down  quietly  at  the  table, 
arranged  the  open  papers  into  an  orderly  heap,  cast  his 
eyes  over  each  in  succession,  folded  it,  docketed  it 
on  the  outside,  laid  it  in  a second  heap,  and,  when  that 
second  heap  was  complete  and  the  first  gone,  took  from 
his  pocket  a piece  of  string  and  tied  it  together  with  a 
remarkably  dexterous  hand  at  a running  curve  aiid  a 
loop. 

" Good  1 ” said  Mr.  Boffin.  " Very  good  I Now  let  us 
hear  what  they’re  all  about ; will  you  be  so  good  ? ” 

John  Rokesmith  read  his  abstracts  aloud.  They  were 
all  about  the  new  house.  Decorator’s  estimate,  so  much. 


TWO  NEW  SERVANTS. 


191 


Furniture  estimate,  so  much.  Estimate  for  furniture  of 
offices,  so  much.  Coach-maker’s  estimate,  so  much. 
Horse-dealer’s  estimate,  so  much.  Harness-maker’s  esti- 
mate, so  much.  Goldsmith’s  estimate,  so  much.  Total, 
so  very  much.  Then  came  correspondence.  Acceptance 
of  Mr.  Boffin’s  offer  of  such  a date,  and  to  such  an  effect. 
Rejection  of  Mr.  Boffin’s  proposal  of  such  a date  and  to 
such  an  effect.  Concerning  Mr.  Boffin’s  scheme  of  such 
another  date  to  such  amother  effect.  All  compact  and 
methodical. 

^‘  Apple-pie  order  !”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  after  checking  off 
each  inscription  with  his  hand,  like  a man  beating  time. 

And  whatever  you  do  with  your  ink,  I can’t  think,  for 
you’re  as  clean  as  a whistle  after  it.  Now,  as  to  a let- 
ter. Let’s,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  rubbing  his  hands  in  his 
pleasantly  childish  admiration,  ^ Get’s  try  a letter  next.” 

'^To  whom  shall  it  be  addressed,  Mr.  Boffin  ?” 

^ ^ Anyone.  Y ourself.  ” 

Mr.  Rokesmith  quickly  wrote,  and  then  read  aloud  : 

^^^Mr.  Boffin  presents  his  compliments  to  Mr.  John 
Rokesmith,  and  begs  to  say  that  he  has  decided  on  giv- 
ing Mr.  John  Rokesmith  a trial  in  the  capacity  he  desires 
to  fill.  Mr.  Boffin  takes  Mr.  John  Rokesmith  at  his  word, 
in  postponing  to  some  indefinite  period,  the  considera- 
tion of  salary.  It  is  quite  understood,  that  Mr.  Boffin  is 
in  no  way  committed  on  that  point.  Mr.  Boffin  has 
merely  to  add,  that  he  relies  on  Mr.  John  Rokesmith’s 
assurance  that  he  will  be  faithful  and  serviceable.  Mr. 
John  Rokesmith  will  please  enter  on  his  duties  imme- 
diately.’ ” 

^^Well!”  Now,  Noddy!”  cried  Mrs.  Boffin,  clapping 
her  hands,  That  is  a good  one!  ” 

Mr.  Boffin  was  no  less  delighted;  indeed,  in  his  own 
bosom,  he  regarded  both  the  composition  itself  and  the 
device  that  had  given  birth  to  it,  as  a very  remarkable 
monument  of  human  ingenuity. 

And  I tell  you,  my  deary,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin,  that  if 
you  don’t  close  with  Mr.  Rokesmith  now  at  once,  and  if 
you  ever  go  a muddling  yourself  again  with  things 
never  meant  nor  made  for  you,  you’ll  have  an  apoplexy 
— besides  iron-moulding  your  linen — and  you’ll  break 
my  heart.” 

Mr.  Boffin  embraced  his  spouse  for  these  words  of 
wisdom,  and  then,  congratulating  John  Rokesmith  on 


192 


OUK  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


the  brilliancy  of  liis  achievments,  gave  him  his  hand 
in  pledge  of  their  new  relations.  So  did  Mrs. 
Boffin. 

Now-,’’  said  Mr.  Boffin,  who,  in  his  frankness,  felt 
that  it  did  not  become  him  to  have  a gentleman  in  his 
employment  five  minutes  without  reposing  some  confi- 
dence in  him,  you  must  be  let  a little  more  into  our 
affairs,  Rokesmith.  I mentioned  to  you,  when  I made 
your  acquaintance,  or  I might  better  say  when  you 
made  mine,  that  Mrs.  Boffin’s  inclinations  was  setting 
in  the  way  of  Fashion,  but  that  I didn’t  know  how 
fashionable  we  might  or  might  not  grow.  Well!  Mrs. 
Boffin  has  carried  the  day,  and  we’re  going  in  neck  and 
crop  for  Fashion.” 

rather  inferred  that,  sir,”  replied  John  Rokesmith, 

from  the  scale  on  which  your  new  establishment  is  to 
be  maintained.” 

'Wes,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  "it’s  to  be  a Spanker.  The 
fact  is,  my  literary  man  named  to  me  that  a house  with 
which  he  is,  as  I may  say,  connected — in  which  he  has 
an  interest ” 

" As  property?  ” inquired  John  Rokesmith. 

"Why  no,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  "not  exactly  that;  a sort 
of  a family  tie.” 

"Association?”  the  Secretary  suggested. 

"Ah!”  said  Mr.  Boffin.  "Perhaps.  Anyhow,  he 
named  to  me  that  the  house  had  a board  up,  'This 
Eminently  Aristocratic  Mansion  to  be  let  or  sold.”  Me 
and  Mrs.  Boffin  went  to  look  at  it,  and  finding  it  beyond 
a doubt  Eminently  Aristocratic  (though  a trifle  high 
and  dull,  which  after  all  may  be  part  of  the  same  thing) 
took  it.  My  literary  man  was  so  friendly  as  to  drop 
into  a charming  piece  of  poetry  on  that  occasion,  in 
which  he  complimented  Mrs.  Boffin  on  coming  into  pos- 
session of — how  did  it  go,  my  dear?  ” 

Mrs.  Boffin  replied: 

“ ‘The  gay,  the  gay  and  festive  scene, 

The  halls,  the  halls  of  dazzling  light.’ ” 

“That’s  it!  And  it  was  made  neater  by  there  really 
being  two  halls  in  the  house,  a front  ’un  and  a back  ’un, 
besides  the  servants.  He  likewise  dropped  into  a very 
pretty  piece  of  poetry  to  be  sure,  respecting  the  extent 
to  which  he  would  be  willing  to  put  himself  out  of  the 
way  to  bring  Mrs.  Boffin  round,  in  case  she  should  ever 


TWO  NEW  SERVANTS. 


193 


get  low  in  her  spirits  in  the  house.  Mrs.  Boffin  has  a 
wonderful  memory.  Will  you  repeat  it,  my  dear 
Mrs.  Boffin  complied,  by  reciting  the  verses  in  which 
this  obliging  offer  had  been  made,  exactly  as  she  had 
received  them. 

“‘I’ll  tell  thee  how  the  maiden  wept,  Mrs.  Boffin, 

“When  her  true  love  was  slain,  ma’am, 

“And  how  her  broken  spirit  slept,  Mrs.  Boffin, 

“And  never  woke  again,  ma’am, 

“I’ll  tell  thee  (if  agreeable  to  Mr.  Boffin)  how  the  steed  drew  nigh, 

“And  left  his  lord  afar; 

“ And  if  my  tale  (which  I hope  Mr.  Boffin  might  excuse)  should  make  you  sigh, 
“I’ll  strike  the  light  guitar.”’ 

Correct  to  the  letter!  ’’  said  Mr.  Boffin.  ''And  I con- 
sider that  the  poetry  brings  us  both  in,  in  a beautiful 
manner.” 

The  effect  of  the  poem  on  the  Secretary  being  evidently 
to  astonish  him,  Mr.  Boffin  was  confirmed  in  his  high 
opinion  of  it,  and  was  greatly  pleased. 

"Now,  you  see,  Rokesmith,”  he  went  on,  "a  literary 
man — with  a wooden  leg — is  liable  to  jealousy.  I shall 
therefore  cast  about  for  comfortable  ways  and  means  of 
not  calling  up  Wogg’s  jealousy,  but  of  keeping  you  in 
your  department,  and  keeping  him  in  his.” 

" Lor!”  cried  Mrs.  Boffin.  "What  I say  is,  the  Vv^orld’s 
wide  enough  for  all  of  us!” 

" So  it  is,  my  dear,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  "when  not  literary. 
But  when  so,  not  so.  And  I am  bound  to  bear  in  mind 
that  I took  W egg  on  at  a time  when  I haM  no  thought 
of  being  fashionable  or  of  leaving  the  Bov/er.  To  let 
him  feel  himself  anywise  slighted  now,  would  be  to  be 
guilty  of  a meanness,,  and  to  act  like  having  one’s  head 
turned  by  the  halls  of  dazzling  light.  Which  Lord  for- 
bid! Rokesmith,  what  shall  we  say  about  your  living  in 
the  house  ? ” 

" In  this  house  ?” 

"No,  no.  I have  got  other  plans  for  this  house.  In 
the  new  house  ? ” 

"That  will  be  as  you  please,  Mr.  Boffin.  I hoid  my- 
self quite  at  your  disposal.  You  know  where  I live  at 
present.” 

" Well !”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  after  considering  the  point, 
"suppose  you  keep  as  you  are  for  the  present,  and 
we’ll  decide  by-and-by.  You’ll  begin  to  take  charge  at 
once  of  all  that’s  going  on  in  the  new  house,  will  you  ? ” 
VOL.  I.  13 


194 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


‘‘  Most  willingly.  I will  begin  this  very  day.  Will 
you  give  me  the  address 

Mr.  Boffin  repeated  it,  and  the  Secretary  wrote  it 
down  in  his  pocket-book.  Mrs.  Boffin  took  the  opportu- 
nity of  his  being  so  engaged,  to  get  a better  observation 
of  his  face  than  she  had  yet  taken.  It  impressed  her  in 
his  favour,  for  she  nodded  aside  to  Mr.  Boffin,  like 
him.’’ 

I will  see  directly  that  everything  is  in  trim,  Mr. 
Boffin.” 

‘^Thank’ee.  Being  here,  would  you  care  at  all  to 
look  round  the  Bower  ? ” 

should  greatly  like  it.  I have  heard  so  much  of 
its  story.” 

Come  I”  said  Mr.  Boffin.  And  he  and  Mrs.  Boffin 
led  the  way. 

A gloomy  house  the  Bower,  with  sordid  signs  on  it  of 
having  been,  through  its  long  existence  as  Harmony 
Jail,  in  miserly  holding.  Bare  of  paint,  bare  of  paper 
on  the  walls,  bare  of  furniture,  bare  of  experience  of 
human  life.  Whatever  is  built  by  man  for  man’s  occu- 
pation, must,  like  natural  creations,  fulfil  the  intention 
of  its  existence,  or  soon  perish.  This  old  house  had 
wasted  more  from  desuetude  than  it  would  have  wasted 
from  use,  twenty  years  for  one. 

A certain  leanness  falls  upon  houses  not  sufficiently 
imbued  with  life  (as  if  they  were  nourished  upon  it), 
which  was  very  noticeable  here.  The  staircase,  balus- 
trades, and  rails  had  a spare  look — an  air  of  being 
denuded  to  the  bone — which  the  panels  of  the  walls 
and  the  jambs  of  the  doors  and  windows  also  bore. 
The  scanty  moveables  partook  of  it ; save  for  the  clean- 
liness of  the  place,  the  dust  into  which  they  were  all 
resolving  would  have  lain  thick  on  the  fioors  ; and 
those,  both  in  colour  and  in  grain,  were  worn  like  old 
faces  that  had  kept  much  along. 

The  bedroom  where  the  clutching  old  man  had  lost 
his  grip  on  life,  was  left  as  he  had  left  it.  There  was 
the  old  grisly  four-post  bedstead,  without  hangings, 
and  with  a jail-like  upper  rim  of  iron  amd  spikes;  and 
there  was  the  old  patch-work  counterpane.  There  was 
the  tight-clenched  old  bureau,  receding  atop  like  a bad 
and  secret  forehead;  there  was  the  cumbersome  old  table 
with  twisted  legs  at  the  bedside;  and  there  was  the  box 


TWO  NEW  SERVANTS. 


195 


upon  it,  in  which  the  will  had  lain.  A few  old  chairs 
with  patch-work  covers,  under  which  the  more  precious 
stuff  to  be  preserved  had  slowly  lost  its  quality  of  color 
without  imparting  pleasure  to  any  eye,  stood  against 
the  wall.  A hard  family  likeness  was  on  all  these 
things. 

^^The  room  was  kept  like  this,  Rokesmith,”  said  Mr. 
Boffin,  ''against  the  son’s  return.  In  short,  everything 
in  the  house  was  kept  exactly  as  it  came  to  us,  for  him 
to  see  and  approve.  Even  now,  nothing  is  changed  but 
our  own  room  below-stairs  that  you  have  just  left. 
When  the  son  came  home  for  the  last  time  in  his  life, 
and  for  the  last  time  in  his  life  saw  his  father,  it  was 
most  likely  in  this  room  that  they  met.” 

As  the  Secretary  looked  all  round  it,  his  eyes  rested 
on  a side  door  in  a corner. 

"Another  staircase,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  unlocking  the 
door,  " leading  down  into  the  yard.  We’ll  go  down  this 
way,  as  you  may  see  the  yard,  and  it’s  all  in  the  road. 
When  the  son  was'  a little  child,  it  was  up  and  down 
these  stairs  that  he  mostly  came  and  went  to  his  father. 
He  was  very  timid  of  his  father.  I’ve  seen  him  sit  on 
these  stairs,  in  his  shy  way,  poor  child,  many  a time. 
Me  and  Mrs.  Boffin  have  comforted  him,  sitting  with 
his  little  book  on  these  stairs,  often.” 

"Ah!  And  his  poor  sister  too,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin; 
"And  here’s  the  sunny  place  on  the  white  wall  where 
they  one  day  measured  one  another.  Their  own  little 
hands  wrote  up  their  names  here,  only  with  a pencil; 
but  the  names  are  here  still,  and  the  poor  dears  gone 
for  ever.” 

"We  must  take  care  of  the  names,  old  lady,”  said 
Mr.  Boffin.  "We  must  take  care  of  the  names.  They 
shan’t  be  rubbed  out  in  our  time,  nor  yet  if  we  can  help 
it,  in  the  time  after  us.  Poor  little  children!” 

"Ah,  poor  little  children!”  said  Mrs.  Boffin. 

They  had  opened  the  door  at  the  bottom  of  the  stair- 
case giving  on  the  yard,  and  they  stood  in  the  sunlight, 
looking  at  the  scrawl  of  the  two  unsteady  childish  hands 
two  or  three  steps  up  the  staircase.  There  was  some- 
thing in  this  simple  memento  of  a blighted  childhood, 
and  in  the  tenderness  of  Mrs.  Boffin,  that  touched  the 
Secretary. 

Mr.  Boffin  then  showed  his  new  man  of  business 


196 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


the  Mounds,  and  his  own  particular  Mound,  which  had 
been  left  him  as  his  legacy  under  the  will  before  he 
acquired  the  w^hole  estate. 

It  would  have  been  enough  for  us/’  said  Mr.  Boffin, 
‘‘in  case  it  had  pleased  God  to  spare  the  last  of  those 
two  young  lives  and  sorrowful  deaths.  We  didn’t  want 
the  rest.” 

At  the  treasures  of  the  yara,  and  at  the  outside  of  the 
house,  and  at  the  detached  building  which  Mr.  Boffin 
pointed  out  as  the  residence  of  himself  and  his  wife 
during  the  many  years  of  their  service,  the  Secretary 
looked  with  interest.  It  was  not  until  Mr.  Boffin  had 
shown  him  every  wonder  of  the  Bower  twice  over,  that 
he  remembered  his  having  duties  to  discharge  else- 
where. 

‘Wou  have  no  instructions  to  give  me,  Mr.  Boffin,  in 
reference  to  this  place?” 

‘'Not  any,  Rokesmith.  No.” 

“ Might  I ask,  without  seeming  impertinent,  whether 
you  have  any  intention  of  selling  it?” 

“ Certainly  not.  In  remembrance  of  our  old  master, 
our  old  master’s  children,  and  our  old  service,  me  and 
Mrs.  Boffin  mean  to  keep  it  as  it  stands.” 

The  Secretary’s  eyes  glanced  with  so  much  meaning 
in  them  at  the  Mounds,  that  Mr.  Boffin  said,  as  if  in 
ansv/er  to  a remark: 

“Ay,  ay,  that’s  another  thing.  I may  sell  them, 
though  I should  be  sorry  to  see  the  neighbourhood  de- 
prived of  ’em  too.  It’ll  look  but  a poor  dead  flat  without 
the  Mounds.  Still  I don’t  say  that  I’m  going  to  keep  ’em 
always  there,  for  the  sake  of  the  beauty  of  the  landscape. 
There’s  no  hurry  about  it;  that’s  all  I say  at  present. 
I ain’t  a scholar  in  much,  Rokesmith,  but  I'm  a pretty 
fair  scholar  in  dust.  I can  price  the  Mounds  to  a frac- 
tion, and  I know  how  they  can  be  best  disposed  of, 
and  likewise  that  they  take  no  harm  by  standing  where 
they  do.  You’ll  look  in  to-morrrow,  will  you  be  so 
kind?” 

“ Every  day.  And  the  sooner  I can  get  you  into  your 
new  house,  complete,  the  better  you  will  be  pleased, sir  ?" 

“Well,  it  ain’t  that  I’m  in  a mortal  hurry,”  said  Mr. 
Boffin;  “ only  when  you  do  pay  people  for  looking  alive, 
it’s  as  well  to  know  that  they  are  looking  alive.  Ain’t 
that  your  opinion  ? ” 


TWO  NEW  SERVANTS. 


197 


Quite  !”  replied  the  Secretary;  and  so  withdl*ew. 

^^Now/’  said  Mr.  Boffin  to  himself,  subsiding  into  his 
regular  series  of  turns  in  the  yard,  ^‘if  I can  make  it 
comfortable  with  Wegg,  my  affairs  will  be  going 
smooth.” 

The  man  of  low  cunning  had,  of  course,  acquired  a 
mastery  over  the  man  of  high  simplicity.  The  mean 
man  had,  of  course,  got  the  better  of  the  generous  man. 
How  long  such  conquests  last,  is  another  matter ; that 
they  are  achieved,  is  every-day  experience,  not  even  to 
be  flourished  away  by  Podsnappery  itself.  The  unde- 
signing Boffin  had  become  so  far  immeshed  by  the  wily 
Wegg  that  his  mind  misgave  him  he  was  a very 
designing  man  indeed  in  purposing  to  do  more  for 
Wegg.  It  seemed  to  him  (so  skilful  was  Wegg)  that  he 
was  plotting  darkly,  when  he  vvas  contriving  to  do  the 
very  thing  that  Wegg  was  plotting  to  get  him  to  do. 
And  thus,  while  he  was  mentally  turning  the  kindest 
of  kind  faces  on  Wegg  this  morning,  he  was  not  abso- 
lutely sure  but  that  he  might  somehow  deserve  the 
charge  of  turning  his  back  on  him. 

For  these  reasons  Mr.  Boffin  passed  but  anxious  hours 
until  evening  came,  and  with  it  Mr.  Wegg,  stumping 
leisurely  to  the  Roman  Empire.  At  about  this  period 
Mr.  Boffin  had  become  profoundly  interested  in  the 
fortunes  of  a great  militarj^  leader  known  to  him  as 
Bully  Sawyers,  but  perhaps  better  known  to  fame  and 
easier  of  identification  by  the  classical  student,  under 
the  less  Britannic  name  of  Belisarius.  Even  this 
general’s  career  paled  in  interest  for  Mr.  Boffin  before 
the  clearing  of  his  conscience  with  Wegg  ; and  hence, 
when  that  literary  gentleman  had  according  to  custom 
eaten  and  drunk  until  he  was  all  a-glow,  and  when  he 
took  up  his  book  with  the  usual  chirping  introduction. 

And  now,  Mr.  Boffin,  sir,  we’ll  decline  and  we’ll  fall!” 
Mr.  Boffin  stopped  him. 

^Wou  remember,  Wegg,  when  I first  told  you  that  I 
wanted  to  make  a sort  of  offer  to  you?” 

''  Let  me  get  on  my  considering  cap,  sir,”  replied  that 
gentleman,  turning  the  open  book  face  downward. 

When  you  first  told  me  that  you  wanted  to  make  a 
sort  of  offer  to  me?  Now  let  me  think”  (as  if  there 
were  the  least  necessity),  ^Wes,  to  be  sure  I do,  Mr. 
Boffin.  It  was  at  my  corner.  To  be  sure  it  was  ! You 


198 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


had  first  asked  me  whether  I liked  your  name,  and  Can- 
dour  had  compelled  a reply  in  the  negative  case.  I lit- 
tle thought  then,  sir,  how  familiar  that  name  would 
come  to  be  ! ’’ 

I hope  it  will  be  more  familiar  still,  Wegg.” 

Do  you,  Mr.  Boffin?  Much  obliged  to  you,  Fm  sure. 
Is  it  your  pleasure,  sir,  that  we  decline  and  we  fall  ? ” 
with  a feint  of  taking  up  the  book. 

'‘Not  just  yet  awhile,  Wegg.  In  fact,  I have  got 
another  offer  to  make  to  you.'^ 

Mr.  Wegg  (who  had  had  nothing  else  in  his  mind  for 
several  nights)  took  off  his  spectacles  with  an  air  of 
bland  surprise. 

" And  I hope  you’ll  like  it,  Wegg.” 

" Thank  you,  sir,”  returned  that  reticent  individual. 
" I hope  it  may  prove  so.  On  all  accounts,  I am  sure.” 
(This,  as  a philanthropic  aspiration.) 

" What  do  you  think,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  " of  not  keep- 
ing a stall,  Wegg  ?” 

“I  think,  sir,”  replied  Wegg,  "that  I should  like  to 
be  shown  the  gentlemen  prepared  to  make  it  worth  my 
while  ! ” 

" Here  he  is,”  said  Mr.  Boffin. 

Mr.  Wegg  was  going  to  say.  My  Benefactor,  and  had 
said  My  Bene,  when  a grandiloquent  change  came  over 
him. 

" No,  Mr.  Boffin,  not  you,  sir.  Anybody  but  you.  Do 
not  fear,  Mr.  Boffin,  that  I shall  contaminate  the  prem- 
ises which  your  gold  has  bought,  with  my  lowly  pur- 
suits. I am  aware,  sir,  that  it  would  not  become  me  to 
carry  on  my  little  traffic  under  the  windows  of  your  man- 
sion. I have  already  thought  of  that,  and  taken  my 
measures.  No  need  to  be  bought  out,  sir.  Would  Step- 
ney Fields  be  considered  intrusive  ? If  not  remote 
enough,  I can  go  remoter.  In  the  words  of  the  poet’s 
song,  which  I do  not  quite  remember  : 

Thrown  on  the  wide  world,  doom’d  to  wander  and  roam, 

Bereft  of  my  parents,  bereft  of  a home, 

A stranger  to  something  and  what’s  his  name  joy. 

Behold  little  Edmund  the  poor  Peasant  boy. 

— And  equally,”  said  Mr.  Wegg,  repairing  the  want  of 
direct  application  in  the  last  line,  " behold  myself  on  a 
similiar  footing  ! ” 

"Now.  Wegg,  Wegg,  Wegg,”  remonstrated  the  ex- 
cellent Boffin.  " You  are  too  sensitive.” 


TWO  NEW  SERVANTS. 


199 


I know  lam,  sir/’  returned  Wegg,  with  obstinate 
magnanimity.  ‘‘1  am  acquainted  with  my  faults.  I 
always  was,  from  a child,  too  sensitive.” 

^^But  listen,”  pursued  the  Golden  Dustman;  ^^hear 
me  out,  Wegg.  You  have  taken  it  into  your  head  that 
I mean  to  pension  you  off.” 

''True,  sir,”  returned  Wegg,  still  v/ith  an  obstinate 
magnanimity.  " I am  acquainted  with  my  faults.  Far 
be  it  from  me  to  deny  them.  I have  taken  it  into  my 
head.” 

" Blit  I don't  mean  it.” 

The  assurance  seemed  hardly  as  comforting  to  Mr. 
Wegg,  as  Mr.  Boffin  intended  it  to  be.  Indeed,  an  ap- 
preciable elongation  of  his  visage  might  have  been  ob- 
served as  he  replied  : 

" Don’t  you  indeed,  sir  ? ” 

"No,”  pursued  Mr.  Boffin  ; "because  that  would  ex- 
press, as  I understand  it,  that  you  Vv^ere  not  going  to  do 
anything  to  deserve  your  money.  But  you  are;  you  are.” 

"That,  sir,”  replied  Mr.  Wegg,  cheering  up  bravely, 
" is  quite  another  pair  of  shoes.  Now,  my  independence 
as  a man  is  again  elevated.  Now,  I no  longer 

Weep  for  the  hour, 

When  to  Boffinses  bower, 

The  Lord  of  the  valley  with  offers  came ; 

Neither  does  the  moon  hide  her  light 
From  the  heavens  to-night. 

And  weep  behind  her  clouds  o’er  any  individual  in  the  present 
Company’s  shame. 

— Please  to  proceed,  Mr.  Boffin.” 

" Thank’ee,  Wegg,  both  for  your  confidence  in  me  and 
for  your  frequent  dropping  into  poetry;  both  of  which  is 
friendly.  Well,  then;  my  idea  is,  that  you  should  give 
up  your  stall,  and  that  I should  put  you  into  the  Bower 
here,  to  keep  it  for  us.  It’s  a pleasant  spot;  and  a man 
with  coals  and  candles  and  a pound  a week  might  be  in 
clover  here.” 

" Hem!  Would  that  man,  sir — we  will  say  that  man, 
for  the  purposes  of  argueyment;”  Mr.  Wegg  made  a 
smiling  demonstration  of  great  perspicuity  here;  "would 
that  man,  sir,  be  expected  to  throw  any  other  capacity 
in,  or  would  any  other  capacity  be  considered  extra? 
Now  let  us  (for  the  purposes  of  argueyment)  suppose 
that  man  to  be  engaged  as  a reader:  say  (for  the  pur- 
poses of  argueyment)  in  the  evening.  Would  that  man’s 
pay  as  a reader  in  the  evening  be  added  to  the  other 


200 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


amount^  which,  adopting  your  language,  we  will  call 
clover;  or  would  it  emerge  into  that  amount,  or  clover?^’ 
^^Well,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  suppose  it  would  be 
added.’’ 

I suppose  it  would,  sir.  You  are  right,  sir.  Exactly 
my  own  views,  Mr.  Boffin.”  Here  Wegg  rose,  and  bal- 
ancing himself  on  his  wooden  leg,  fluttered  over  his 
prey  with  extended  hand.  ^^Mr.  Boffin,  consider  it 
done.  Say  no  more,  sir,  not  a word  more.  My  stall 
and  I are  for  ever  parted.  The  collection  of  ballads 
will  in  future  be  reserved  for  private  study,  with  the 
object  of  making  poetry  tributary”  — Wegg  was  so 
proud  of  having  found  this  word,  that  he  said  it  again, 
with  a capital  letter — Tributary,  to  friendship.  Mr. 
Boffin,  don’t  allow  yourself  to  be  made  uncomfortable 
by  the  pang  it  gives  me  to  part  from  my  stock  and  stall. 
Similar  emotion  was  undergone  by  my  own  father  when 
promoted  for  his  merits  from  his  occupation  as  a water- 
man to  n situation  under  Government.  His  Christian 
name  was  Thomas.  His  words  at  the  time  (I  was  then 
an  infant,  but  so  deep  was  their  impression  ‘on  me,  that 
I committed  them  to  memory)  were: 

Then  farewell  my  trim-built  wherry. 

Oars  and  coat  and  badge  farewell  ! 

Never  more  at  Chelsea  Ferry, 

Shall  your  Thomas  take  a spell  ? 

— My  father  got  over  it,  Mr.  Boffin,  and  so  shall  I.” 

While  delivering  these  valedictory  observations,  Wegg 
continually  disappointed  Mr.  Boffin  of  his  hand  by  flour- 
ishing it  in  the  air.  He  now  darted  it  at  his  patron, 
who  took  it,  and  felt  his  mind  relieved  of  a great  weight: 
observing  that  as  they  had  arranged  their  joint  affairs 
so  satisfactorily,  he  would  now  be  glad  to  look  into 
those  of  Billy  Sawyers.  Which,  indeed,  had  been  left 
over-night  in  a very  unpromising  posture,  and  for 
whose  impending  expedition  against  the  Persians  the 
weather  had  been  by  no  means  favorable  all  day. 

Mr.  Wegg  resumed  his  spectacles,  therefore.  But 
Sawyers  was  not  to  be  of  the  party  that  night;  for,  be- 
fore Wegg  had  found  his  place,  Mrs.  Boffin’s  tread  was 
heard  upon  the  stairs,  so  unusually  heavy  and  hurried, 
that  Mr.  Boffin  would  have  started  up  at  the  sound, 
anticipating  some  occurrence  much  out  of  the  common 
course,  even  though  she  had  not  also  called  to  him  in 
an  agitated  tone. 


TWO  NEW  SERVANTS. 


201 


Mr.  Boffin  hurried  out,  and  found  her  on  the  dark 
staircase,  panting,  with  a lighted  candle  in  her  hand. 

What'S  the  matter,  my  dear?” 

'^1  don’t  know;  I don’t  know;  but  I wish  you’d  come 
up-stairs.” 

Much  surprised,  Mr.  Boffin  went  up-stairs  and  accom- 
panied Mrs.  Boffin  into  their  own  room;  a second  large 
room  on  the  same  floor  as  the  room  in  which  the  late 
proprietor  had  died.  Mr.  Boffin  looked  all  round  him, 
and  saw  nothing  more  unusual  than  various  articles  of 
folded  linen  on  a large  chest,  which  Mrs.  Boffin  has  been 
sorting. 

What  is  it,  my  dear?  Why,  you’re  frightened!  You 
frightened?” 

I am  not  one  of  that  sort  certainly,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin, 
as  she  sat  down  in  a chair  to  recover  herself,  and  took 
her  husband’s  arm;  but  it’s  very  strange!” 

“What  is,  my  dear?” 

“Noddy,  the  faces  of  the  old  man  and  the  two  chil- 
dren are  all  over  the  house  to-night.” 

“My  dear?”  exclaimed  Mr.  Boffin.  But  not  without 
a certain  uncomfortable  sensation  gliding  down  his 
back. 

“ I know  it  must  sound  foolish,  and  yet  it  is  so.” 

“ Where  did  you  think  you  saw  them?” 

“ I don’t  know  that  I think  I saw  them  anywhere.  I 
felt  them.” 

“Touched  them?” 

“No.  Felt  them  in  the  air.  I was  sorting  those 
things  on  tho  chest,  and  not  thinking  of  the  old  man  or 
the  children,  but  singing  to  myself,  when  all  in  a mo- 
ment I felt  there  was  a face  growing  out  of  the  dark.” 

“ What  face?”  asked  her  husband,  looking  about  him. 

“ For  a moment  it  was  the  old  man’s,  and  then  it  got 
younger.  For  a moment  it  was  both  the  children’s,  and 
then  it  got  older.  For  a moment  it  was  a strange  face, 
and  then  it  was  all  the  faces.” 

“And  then  it  was  gone?” 

“ Yes  ; and  then  it  was  gone.” 

“Where  were  you  then,  old  lady?” 

“ Here,  at  the  chest.  Well ; I got  the  better  of  it,  and 
went  on  sorting,  and  went  on  singing  to  myself.  ^ Lor!’ 
I says,  ^ I’ll  think  of  something  else — something  com- 
fortable— and  put  it  out  of  my  head.’  So  I thought  of 


202 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


the  new  house  and  Miss  Bella  Wilfer,  and  was  thinking 
at  a great  rate  with  that  sheet  there  in  my  hand,  when, 
all  of  a sudden,  the  faces  seemed  to  he  hidden  in  among 
the  folds  of  it,  and  I let  it  drop.'’ 

As  it  still  lay  on  the  floor  where  it  had  fallen,  Mr. 
Boffin  picked  it  up  and  laid  it  on  the  chest. 

And  then  you  ran  down-stairs?” 

‘‘No.  I thought  I’d  try  another  room,  and  shake  it 
off.  I says  to  myself,  ‘ I’ll  go  and  walk  slowly  up  and 
down  the  old  man’s  room  three  times,  from  end  to  end, 
and  then  I shall  have  conquered  it.’  I went  in  with  the 
candle  in  my  hand  ; but  the  moment  I came  near  the 
bed,  the  air  got  thick  with  them.'’ 

“With  the  faces?” 

“Yes,  and  I even  felt  they  were  in  the  dark  behind 
the  side-door,  and  on  the  little  staircase,  floating  away 
into  the  yard.  Then  I called  you.” 

Mr.  Boffin,  lost  in  amazement,  looked  at  Mrs.  Boffin. 
Mrs.  Boffin,  lost  in  her  own  fluttered  inability  to  make 
this  out  looked  at  Mr.  Boffin. 

“I  think,  my  dear,”  said  the  Golden  Dustman,  “I’ll 
at  once  get  rid  of  Wegg  for  the  night,  because  he’s  com- 
ing to  inhabit  the  Bower,  and  il  might  be  put  into  his 
head  or  somebody  else’s,  if  he  heard  this  and  it  got 
about,  that  the  house  is  haunted.  Whereas  we  know 
better.  Don’t  we?” 

“I  never  had  the  feeling  in  the  house  before,”  said 
Mrs.  Boffin;  “and  I have  been  about  it  alone  at  all 
hours  of  the  night.  I have  been  in  the  house  when 
Death  was  in  it,  and  I have  been  in  the  house  whe  n 
Murder  was  a new  paft  of  its  adventures,  and  I never 
had  a fright  in  it  yet.” 

“And  won’t  again,  my  dear,'’ said  Mr.  Boffin.  “De- 
pend upon  it,  it  comes  of  thinking  and  dwelling  on  that 
dark  spot.” 

“Yes;  but  why  didn’t  it  come  before?'’  asked  Mrs. 
Boffin. 

This  draft  on  Mr.  Boffin’s  philosophy  could  only  be 
met  by  that  gentleman  with  the  remark  that  everything 
that  is  at  all,  must  begin  at  some  time.  Then,  tucking 
his  wife’s  arm  under  his  own,  that  she  might  not  be  left 
by  herself  to  be  troubled  again,  he  descended  to  release 
Wegg.  Who,  being  something  drowsy  after  his  plen- 
tiful repast,  and  constitutionally  of  a shirking  tempera- 


TWO  NEW  SERVANTS. 


203 


ment,  was  well  enough  pleased  to  stump  away,  without 
doing  what  he  he  had  come  to  do,  and  was  paid  for 
doing. 

Mr.  Boffin  then  put  on  his  hat,  and  Mrs.  Boffin  her 
shawl,  and  the  pair,  further  provided  with  a bunch  of 
keys  and  a lighted  lantern,  went  all  over  the  dismal 
house — dismal  everywhere,  but  in  their  own  two  rooms — 
from  cellar  to  cock-loft.  Not  resting  satisfied  with 
giving  that  much  chase  to  Mrs.  Boffin’s  fancies,  they 
pursued  them  into  the  yard  and  outbuildings,  and  under 
the  Mounds.  And  setting  the  lantern,  when  all  was 
done,  at  the  foot  of  one  of  the  Mounds,  they  comfortably 
trotted  to  and  fro  for  an  evening  walk,  to  the  end  that 
the  murky  cobwebs  in  Mrs.  Boffin’s  brain  might  be 
blown  away. 

There,  my  dear  !”  said  Mr.  Boffin  when  they  came 
in  to  supper.  That  was  the  treatment,  you  see.  Com- 
pletely worked  round,  haven’t  you  ? ” 

Yes,  deary,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin,  laying  aside  her  shawl. 
‘^I’m  not  nervous  any  more.  Fm  not  a bit  troubled 
now.  I’d  go  anywhere  about  the  house  the  same  as 
ever.  But — — ” 

^'Eh  ?”  said  Mr.  Boffin. 

But  I’ve  only  to  shut  my  eyes.” 

And  what  then  ?” 

Why  then,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin,  speaking  with  her  eyes 
closed,  and  her  left  hand  thoughtfully  touching  her 
brow,  '‘^then,  there  they  are  ! The  old  man’s  face,  and 
it  gets  younger.  The  two  children’s  faces,  and  they  get 
older.  A face  that  I don’t  know.  And  then  all  the 
faces  ! ” 

Opening  her  eyes  again,  and  seeing  her  husband’s 
face  across  the  table,  she  leaned  forward  to  give  it  a 
pat  on  the  cheek,  and  sat  down  to  supper,  declaring  it 
to  be  the  best  face  in  the  world. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

MINDERS  AND  RE-MINDERS. 

The  Secretary  lost  no  time  in  getting  to  work,  and 
his  vigilance  and  method  soon  set  their  mark  on 
the  Golden  Dustman’s  affairs.  His  earnestness  in 


204. 


OUK  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


determining  to  understand  the  length  and  breadth 
and  depth  of  every  piece  of  work  submitted  to  him  by 
his  employer,  was  as  special  as  nis  despatch  in  trans- 
acting it.  He  accepted  no  information  or  explanation 
at  second  hand,  but  made  himself  the  master  of  every- 
thing confided  to  him. 

One  part  of  the  Secretary’s  conduct,  underlying  all 
the  rest,  might  have  been  mistrusted  by  a man  with  a 
better  knowledge  of  men  than  the  Golden  Dustman 
had.  The  Secretary  was  as  far  from  being  inquisitive 
or  intrusive  as  Secretary  could  be,  but  nothing  less  than 
a complete  understanding  of  the  whole  of  the  affairs 
would  content  him.  It  •soon  became  apparent  (from 
the  knowledge  with  which  he  set  out)  that  he  must 
have  been  to  the  office  where  the  Harmon  will  was  reg- 
istered, and  must  have  read  the  will.  He  anticipated 
Mr.  Boffin’s  consideration  whether  he  should  be  advised 
with  on  this  or  that  topic,  by  showing  that  he  already 
knew  of  it  and  understood  it.  He  did  this  with  no 
attempt  at  concealment,  seeming  to  be  satisfied  that  it 
was  part  of  his  duty  to  have  prepared  himself  at  all 
attainable  points  for  its  utmost  discharge. 

This  might — let  it  be  repeated — have  awakened  some 
little  vague  mistrust  in  a man  more  worldly-wise  than 
the  Golden  Dustman.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Secretary 
was  discerning,  discreet,  and  silent,  though  as  zealous 
as  if  the  affairs  had  been  his  own.  He  showed  no  love 
of  patronage  or  the  command  of  money,  but  distinctly 
preferred  resigning  both  to  Mr.  Boffin.  If,  in  his  limited 
sphere,  he  sought  power,  it  was  the  power  of  knowl- 
edge ; the  power  derivable  from  a perfect  comprehension 
of  his  business. 

As  on  the  Secretary’s  face  there  was  a nameless  cloud, 
so  on  his  manner  there  was  a shadow  equally  indefin- 
able. It  was  not  that  he  was  embarrassed,  as  on  that 
first  night  with  the  Wilfer  family;  he  was  habitually 
unembarrassed  now,  and  yet  the  something  remained. 
It  was  not  that  his  manner  was  bad,  as  on  that  occa- 
sion; it  was  now  yery  good,  as  being  modest,  gracious 
and  ready.  Yet  the  something  never  left  it.  It  has 
been  written  of  men  who  have  undergone  a cruel  cap- 
tivity, or  who  have  passed  through  a terrible  strait,  or 
who  in  self-preservation  have  killed  a defenceless  fel- 
low-creature, that  the  record  thereof  has  never  faded 


/ 


MmDEES  AND  RE-MINDERS. 


205 


from  their  ^countenances  until  they  died.  Was  there 
any  such  record  here? 

He  established  a temporary  ofl&ce  for  himself  in  the 
new  house,  and  all  went  on  well  under  his  hand,  with 
one  singular  exception.  He  manifestly  objected  to  com- 
municate with  Mr.  Boffin’s  solicitor.  Two  or  three 
times,  when  there  was  some  slight  occasion  for  his  do- 
ing so,  he  transferred  the  task  to  Mr.  Boffin;  and  his 
evasion  of  it  soon  became  so  curiously  apparent,  that 
Mr.  Boffin  spoke  to  him  on  the  subject  of  his  reluct- 
ance. 

it  is  so,”  the  Secretary  admitted.  would  rather 
not.” 

Had  he  any  personal  objection  to  Mr.  Light  wood? 

I don’t  know  him.” 

Had  he  suffered  from  lawsuits? 

Not  more  than  other  men,”  was  his  short  answer. 

Was  he  prejudiced  against  the  race  of  lawyers? 

^^No.  But  while  I am  in  your  employment,  sir,  I 
would  rather  be  excused  from  going  between  the  lawyer 
and  the  client.  Of  course  if  you  press  it,  Mr.  Boffin,  I am 
ready  to  comply.  But  I should  take  it  as  a great  favour 
if  you  would  not  press  it  without  urgent  occasion.” 

Now,  it  could  not  be  said  that  there  was  urgent  occa- 
sion, for  Lightwood  retained  no  other  affairs  in  his 
hands  than  such  as  still  lingered  and  languished  about 
the  undiscovered  criminal,  and  such  as  arose  out  of  the 
purchase  of  the  house.  Many  other  matters  that  might 
have  travelled  to  him,  now  stopped  short  at  the  Secre- 
tary, under  whose  administration  they  were  far  more 
expeditiously  and  satisfactorily  disposed  of  than  they 
would  have  been  if  they  had  got  into  Young  Blight’s 
domain.  This  the  Galden  Dustman  quite  understood. 
Even  the  matter  immediately  in  hand  was  of  very  little 
moment  as  requiring  personal  appearance  on  the  Secre- 
tary’s part,  for  it  amounted  to  no  more  than  this: — The 
death  of  Hexam  rendering  the  sweat  of  the  honest 
man’s  brow  unprofitable,  the  honest  man  had  shuffing- 
ly  declined  to  moisten  his  brow  for  nothing,  with  that 
severe  exertion  which  is  known  in  legal  circles  as  swear- 
ing your  way  through  a stone  wall.  Consequently  that 
new  light  had  gone  sputtering  out.  But,  the  airing  of 
the  old  facts  had  led  some  one  concerned  to  suggest 
that  it  would  be  well  before  they  were  reconsigned  to 


:06 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


their  gloomy  shelf — now  probably  for  ever — to  induce 
or  compel  that  Mr.  Julius  Handford  to  reappear  and  be 
questioned.  And  all  traces  of  Mr.  Julius  Handford  being 
lost,  Lightwood  now  referred  to  his  client  for  authority 
to  seek  him  through  public  advertisement. 

‘^Does  your  objection  go  to  writing  to  Lightwood, 
Rokesmith 

Not  in  the  least,  sir.’’ 

Then  perhaps  you’ll  write  him  a line,  and  say  he  is 
free  to  do  what  he  likes.  I don’t  think  it  promises.” 

I don’t  think  it  promises,”  said  the  Secretary. 

Still,  he  may  do  what  he  likes.” 
will  write  immediately.  Let  me  thank  you  for  so 
considerately  yielding  to  my  di  sinclination.  It  may  seem 
less  unreasonable,  if  I avow  to  you  that  although  I don’t 
know  Mr.  Lightwood,  I have  a disagreeable  association 
connected  with  him.  It  is  not  his  fault;  he  is  not  at  all 
to  blame  for  it,  and  does  not  even  know  my  name.  ” 

Mr.  Boffin  dismissed  the  matter  with  a nod  or  two. 
The  letter  was  written,  and  next  day  Mr.  Julius  Hand- 
ford was  advertised  for.  He  was  requested  to  place 
himself  in  communication  with  Mr.  Mortimer  Light- 
wood, as  a possible  means  of  furthering  the  ends  of 
justice,  and  a reward  was  offered  to  any  one  acquainted 
with  his  whereabout  who  would  communicate  the  same 
to  the  said  Mr.  Mortimer  Lightwood  at  his  office  in  the 
Temple.  Every  day  for  six  weeks  this  advertisement 
appeared  at  the  head  of  all  the  newspapers,  and  every 
day  for  six  weeks  the  Secretary,  when  he  saw  it,  said  to 
himself,  in  the  tone  in  which  he  had  said  to  his  em- 
plo3^er, — "‘I  don’t  think  it  promises!” 

Among  his  first  occupations  the  pursuit  of  that  or- 
phan wanted  by  Mrs.  Boffin  held  a conspicuous  place. 
From  the  earliest  moment  of  his  engagement  he  showed 
a particular  desire  to  please  her,  and,  knowing  her  to 
have  this  object  at  heart,  he  followed  it  up  with  un- 
wearying alacrity  and  interest. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Milvey  had  found  their  search  a difficult 
one.  Either  an  eligible  orphan  was  of  the  wrong  sex 
(which  almost  always  happened)  or  was  too  old,  or  too 
young,  or  too  sickly,  or  too  dirty,  or  too  much  accus- 
tomed to  the  streets,  or  too  likely  to  run  away  ; or  it  w^as 
found  impossible  to  complete  the  philanthropic  transac- 
tion without  buying  the  orphan.  For,  the  instant  it  be- 


MINDERS  AND  RE-MINDERS.  207 

Came  known  that  anybody  wanted  the  orphan,  up 
started  some  affectionate  relative  of  the  orphan  who 
put  a price  upon  the  orphan's  head.  The  suddenness  of 
an  orphan’s  rise  in  the  market  was  not  to  be  paralleled 
by  the  maddest  records  of  the  Stock  Exchange.  He 
would  be  at  five  thousand  per  cent,  discount  out  at  nurse 
making  a mud  pie  at  nine  in  the  morning,  and  (being 
inquired  for)  would  go  up  to  five  thousand  per  cent,  pre- 
mium before  noon.  The  market  was  ‘^rigged”  in  va- 
rious artful  ways.  Counterfeit  stock  got* into  circula- 
tion. Parents  boldly  represented  themselves  as  dead, 
and  brought* their  orphans  with  them.  Genuine  orphan- 
stock  was  surreptitiously  withdrawn  from  the  market. 
It  being  announced,  by  emissaries  posted  for  the  pur- 
pose, that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Milvey  were  coming  down  the 
court,  orphan  scrip  v/ould  be  instantly  concealed,  and 
production  refused,  save  on  a condition  usually  stated 
by  the  brokers  as  a gallon  of  beer.”  Likewise,  fluc- 
tuations of  a wild  and  South-sea  nature  were  occasioned, 
by  orphan-holders  keeping  back,  and  then  rushing  ’into 
the  market  a dozen  together.  But,  the  uniform  princi- 
ple at  the  root  of  all  these  various  operations  was  bar- 
gain and  sale ; and  that  principle  could  not  be  recog- 
nized by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Milvey. 

At  length,  tidings  were  received  by  the  Reverend 
Frank  of  a charming  orphan  to  be  found  at  Brentford. 
One  of  the  deceased  parents  (late  his  parishoners)  had  a 
poor  widowed  grandmother  in  that  agreeable  town,  and 
she,  Mrs.  Betty  Higden,  had  carried  off  the  orphan  with 
maternal  care,  but  could  not  afford  to  keep  him. 

The  Secretary  proposed  to  Mrs.  Boffin,  either  to  go 
down  himself  and  take  a preliminary  survey  of  this 
orphan,  or  to  drive  her  down,  that  she  might  at  once 
form  her  own  opinion.  Mrs.  Boffin  preferring  the  latter 
course,  they  set  off  one  morning  in  a hired  phaeton, 
conveying  the  hammer-headed  young  man  behind  them. 

The  abode  of  Mrs.  Betty  Higden  was  not  easy  to  find, 
lying  in  such  complicated  back  settlements  of  muddy 
Brentford  that  they  left  their  equipage  at  the  sign  of  the 
Three  Magpies,  and  went  in  search  of  it  on  foot.  After 
many  inquiries  and  defeats,  there  was  pointed  out  to 
them  in  a lane,  a very  small  cottage  residence,  with  a 
board  across  the  open  doorway,  hooked  on  to  which 
board  by  the  armpits  was  a young  gentleman  of  tender 


^08  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

jears,  angling  for  mud  with  a headless  v/ooden  horse 
and  line.  In  this  young  sportsman,  distinguished  by  a. 
crisply  curling  auburn  head  and  a bluff  countenance, 
the  Secretary  descried  the  orphan. 

It  unfortunately  happened  as  they  quickened  their 
pace,  that  the  orphan,  lost  to  considerations  of  personal 
safety  in  the  ardour  of  the  moment,  overbalanced  him- 
self and  toppled  into  the  street.  Being  an  orphan  of  a 
chubby  conformation,  he  then  took  to  rolling,  and  had 
rolled  into  the  gutter  before  they  could  come  up.  From 
the  gutter  he  was  rescued  by  John  Rokesmith,  and  thus 
the  first  meeting  with  Mrs.  Higden  was  inaugurated  by 
the  awkward  circumstance  of  their  being  in  possession — 
one  would  say  at  first  sight  unlawful  possession — of  the 
orphan,  upside  down  and  purple  in  the  countenance. 
The  board  across  the  doorway  too,  acting  as  a trap 
equally  for  the  feet  of  Mrs.  Higden  coming  out,  and  the 
feet  of  Mrs.  Boffin  and  John  Rokesmith  going  in,  greatly 
increased  the  difficulty  of  the  situation  : to  which  the 
cries  of  the  orphan  imparted  a lugubrious  and  inhuman 
character. 

At  first,  it  was  impossible  to  explain,  on  account  of 
the  orphan's  ^'holding  his  breath  a most  terrific  pro- 
ceeding, superinducing  in  the  orphan,  lead-colour  rigi- 
dity and  a deadly  silence,  compared  with  which  his 
cries  were  music  yielding  the  height  of  enjoyment. 
But  as  he  gradually  recovered,  Mrs.  Boffin  gradually 
introduced  herself,  and  smiling  peace  was  gradually 
wooed  back  to  Mrs.  Betty  Higden’s  home. 

It  was  then  perceived  to  be  a small  home  with  a large 
mangle  in  it,  at  the  handle  of  which  machine  stood  a 
very  lon^  boy,  with  a very  little  head,  and  an  open 
mouth  or  disproportionate  capacity  that  seemed  to 
assist  his  eyes  in  staring  at  the  visitors.  In  a corner 
below  the  mangle,  on  a couple  of  stools,  sat  two  very 
little  children,  a boy  and  a girl  ; and  when  the  very 
long  boy,  in  an  interval  of  staring,  took  a turn  at  the 
mangle,  it  was  alarming  to  see  how  it  lunged  itself  at 
those  two  innocents,  like  a catapult  designed  for  their 
destruction,  harmlessly  retiring  when  within  an  inch  of 
their  heads.  The  room  was  clean  and  neat.  It  had  a 
brick  floor,  and  a window  of  diamond  panes,  and  a 
flounce  hanging  below  the  chimney-piece,  and  strings 
nailed  from  bottom  to  top  outside  the  window  on  which 


MINDERS  AND  RE-MINDERS. 


209 


scarlet-beans  were  to  grow  in  the  coming  season  if  the 
Fates  were  propitious.  However  propitious  they  might 
have  been  in  the  seasons  that  were  gone,  to  Betty  Hig- 
den  in  the  matter  of  beans,  they  had  not  been  very 
favourable  in  the  matter  of  coins ; for  it  was  easy  to 
see  that  she  was  poor. 

She  was  one  of  those  old  women,  was  Mrs.  Betty 
Higden,  who  by  dint  of  an  indomitable  purpose  and  a 
strong  constitution  fight  out  many  years,  though  each 
year  has  come  with  its  new  knock-down  blows  fresh  to 
the  fight  against  her,  wearied  by  it ; an  active  old 
woman,  with  a bright  dark  eye  and  a resolute  face,  yet 
quite  a tender  creature  too  ; not  a logically-reasoning 
woman,  but  God  is  good,  and  hearts  may  count  in 
Heaven  as  high  as  heads. 

‘^‘^Yes,  sure!”  said  she,  when  the  business  was 
opened,  ‘^^Mrs.  Milvey  had  the  kindness  to  write  to  me, 
ma’am,  and  I got  Sloppy  to  read  it.  It  was  a pretty 
letter.  But  she’s  an  affable  lady.” 

The  visitors  glanced  at  the  long  boy,  who  seemed  to 
indicate  by  a broader  stare  of  his  mouth  and  eyes  that 
in  him  Sloppy  stood  confessed. 

For  I ain’t,  you  must  know,”  said  Betty,  much  of 
a hand  at  reading  writing-hand,  though  I can  read  my 
Bible  and  most  print.  And  I do  love  a newspaper. 
You  mightn’t  think  it,  but  Sloppy  is  a beautiful  reader 
of  a newspaper.  He  do  the  Police  in  different  voices.” 

The  visitors  again  considered  it  a point  of  politeness 
to  look  at  Sloppy,  who,  looking  at  them,  suddenly  threw 
back  his  head,  extended  his  mouth  to  its  utmost  width, 
and  laughed  loud  and  long.  At  this  the  two  innocents, 
with  their  brains  in  that  apparent  danger,  laughed, 
and  Mrs.  Higden  laughed,  and  the  orphan  laughed,  and 
then  the  visitors  laughed.  Which  was  more  cheerful 
than  intelligible. 

Then  Sloppy  seeming  to  be  seized  with  an  industrious 
mania  or  fury,  turned  to  at  the  mangle,  and  impelled  it 
at  the  heads  of  the  innocents  with  such  a creaking  and 
rumbling,  that  Mrs.  Higden  stopped  him. 

''  The  gentlefolks  can’t  hear  themselves  speak.  Sloppy. 
Bide  a bit,  bide  a bit!” 

Is  that  the  dear  child  in  your  lap?”  said  Mrs.  Boffin. 

^Wes,  ma’am,  this  is  Johnny!” 

Johnny,  too!”  cried  Mrs.  Boffin,  turning  to  the  Sec- 

YOL.  L 14 


210  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIENU. 

retaiy;  already  Johnny!  Only  one  of  the  two  names 
left  to  give  him!  He’s  a pretty  boy.’^ 

With  his  chin  tucked  down  in  his  shy  childish  man- 
ner, he  was  looking  furtively  at  Mrs.  Boffin  out  of  his 
blue  eyes,  and  reaching  his  fat  dimpled  hand  up  to  the 
lips  of  the  old  woman,  who  was  kissing  it  by  times. 

'•  Yes,  ma’am,  he's  a pretty  boy,  he's  a dear  darling 
boy,  he’s  the  child  of  my  own  last  left  daughter’s 
daughter.  But  she’s  gone  the  way  of  all  the  rest.” 

•'Those  are  not  his  brother  and  sister?”  said  Mrs. 
Boffin. 

•'  Oh,  dear  no,  ma’am.  Those  are  Minders.” 

" Minders?”  the  Secretary  repeated. 

" Left  to  be  Minded,  sir.  I keep  a Minding-School. 

I can  take  only  three,  on  account  of  the  Mangle.  But  I 
love  children,  and  Four-pence  a week  is  Four-pence. 
Come  here.  Toddles  and  Poddies.” 

Toddles  was  the  pet-name  of  the  boy;  Poddies  of  the 
girl.  At  their  little  unsteady  pace,  they  came  across 
the  floor,  hand-in-hand,  as  if  they  were  traversing  ' 
an  extremely  difficult  road  intersected  by  brooks,  and, 
when  they  had  had  their  heads  patted  by  Mrs.  Betty 
Higden,  made  lungs  at  the  orphan,  dramatically  rep- 
resenting an  attempt  to  bear  him,  crowing,  into  captivity 
and  slavery.  All  the  three  children  enjoyed  this  to  a 
delightful  extent,  and  the  sympathetic  Sloppy  again 
laughed  long  and  loud.  When  it  was  discreet  to  stop 
the  play,  Betty  Higden  said  " Go  to  your  seats  Toddles 
and  Poddies,”  and  they  returned  hand-in-hand  across 
country,  seeming  to  And  the  brooks  rather  swollen  by 
the  late  rains. 

"And  Master — or  Mister — Sloppy?”  said  the  Secre- 
tary, in  doubt  whether  he  was  man,  boy,  or  what. 

"A  love-child,”  returned  Betty  Higden,  dropping  her 
voice;  " parents  never  known;  found  in  the  street.  He 
was  brought  up  in  the ’’with  a shiver  of  repug- 
nance, " the  House.” 

" The  Poor-house  ?”  said  the  Secretary. 

Mrs.  Higden  set  that  resolute  old  face  of  hers,  and 
darkly  nodded  yes. 

"You  dislike  the  mention  of  it.” 

" Dislike  the  mention  of  it  ? ” answered  the  old  woman, 
" Kill  me  sooner  than  take  me  there.  Throw  this  pretty 
child  under  cart-horses’  feet  and  a loaded  Avagon, 


MINDERS  AND  RE-MINDERS. 


211 


sooner  than  take  him  there.  Come  to  us  and  find  us  all 
a-dying,  and  set  a light  to  us  all  where  we  lie,  and  let 
us  all  blaze  away  with  the  house  into  a heap  of  cinders, 
sooner  than  move  a corpse  of  us  there!’’ 

A surprising  spirit  in  this  lonely  woman  after  so  many 
years  of  hard  working,  and  hard  living,  my  Lords  and 
Gentlemen  and  Honourable  Boards!  What  is  it  that  we 
call  it  in  our  grandiose  speeches  ? British  independ- 
ence, rather  perverted  ? Is  that,  or  something  like  it, 
the  ring  of  the  cant  ? 

^^Do  I never  read  in  the  newspapers,”  said  the  dame, 
fondling  the  child — God  help  me  and  the  like  of  me! — 
how  the  worn-out  people  that  do  come  down  to  that,  get 
driven  from  post  to  pillar  and  pillar  to  post,  a-purpose 
to  tire  them  out!  Do  I never  read  how  they  are  put  off, 
put  off,  put  off — how  they  are  grudged,  grudged, 
grudged,  the  shelter,  or  the  doctor,  or  the  drop  of 
physic,  or  the  bit  of  bread  ? Do  I never  read  how  they 
grow  heartsick  of  it  and  give  it  up,  after  having  let 
themselves  drop  so  low,  and  how  they  after  all  die  out 
for  want  of  help  ? Then  I say,  I hope  I can  die  as  well 
as  another,  and  I’ll  die  without  that  disgrace.” 

Absolutely  impossible,  my  Lords  and  Gentlemen  and 
Honourable  Boards,  by  any  stretch  of  legislative  wisdom 
to  set  these  perverse  people  right  in  their  logic  ? 

Johnny,  my  pretty,”  continued  old  Betty,  caressing 
the  child,  and  rather  mourning  over  it  than  speaking  to 
it,  your  old  Granny  Betty  is  nigher  fourscore  year 
than  threescore  and  ten.  She  never  begged  nor  had  a 
penny  of  the  Union  money  in  all  her  life.  She  paid  scot 
and  she  paid  lot  when  she  ha.d  money  to  pay;  she 
worked  when  she  could,  and  she  starved  when  she  must. 
You  pray  that  your  Granny  may  have  strength  enough 
left  her  at  the  last  (she’s  strong  for  an  old  one,  Johnny), 
to  get  up  from  her  bed  and  run  and  hide  herself,  and 
swown  to  death  in  a hole,  sooner  than  fall  into  the  hands 
of  those  Cruel  Jacks  we  read  of,  that  dodge  and  drive, 
and  worry  and  weary,  and  scorn  and  shame,  the  decent 
poor,” 

A brilliant  success,  my  Lords  and  Gentlemen  and 
Honorable  Boards,  to  have  brought  it  to  this  in  the 
minds  of  the  best  of  the  poor!  Under  submission,  might 
it  be  worth  thinking  of  at  any  odd  time? 

The  fright  and  abhorrence  that  Mrs.  Betty  Higden 


212 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


smoothed  out  of  her  strong  face  as  she  ended  this  diver- 
sion, showed  how  seriously  she  had  meant  it. 

And  does  he  work  for  you?’’  asked  the  Secretary, 
gently  bringing  the  discourse  back  to  Master  or  Mister 
Sloppy. 

Yes,”  said  Betty  with  a good-humored  smile  and  nod 
of  the  head.  ''And  well  too.” 

" Does  he  live  here?  ” 

" He  lives  more  here  than  anywhere.  He  was  thought 
to  be  no  better  than  a Natural,  and  first  come  to  me  as 
a Minder.  I made  interest  with  Mr.  Blogg  the  Beadle 
to  have  him  as  a Minder,  seeing  him  by  chance  up  at 
church,  and  thinking  I might  do  something  with  him. 
For  he  was  a weak  ricketty  creetur  then.” 

" Is  he  called  by  his  right  name?  ” 

" Why,  you  see,  speaking  quite  correctly,  he  has  no 
right  name.  I always  understood  he  took  his  name 
from  being  found  on  a Sloppy  night.” 

" He  seems  an  amiable  fellow.” 

" Bless  you,  sir,  there’s  not  a bit  of  him,”  returned 
Betty,  "that’s  not  amiable.  So  you  may  judge  how 
amiable  he  is,  by  running  your  eye  along  his  heighth.” 

Of  an  ungainly  make  was  Sloppy.  To  much  of  him 
longwise,  too  little  of  him  broadwise,  and  too  many 
sharp  angles  of  him  angle-wise.  One  of  those  shamb- 
ling male  human  creatures,  born  to  be  indiscreetly  can- 
did in  the  revelation  of  buttons;  every  button  he  had 
about  him  glaring  at  the  public  to  a quite  preternatural 
extent.  A considerable  capital  of  knee  and  elbow  and 
wrist  and  ankle,  had  Sloppy,  and  he  didn’t  know  how  to 
dispose  of  it  to  the  best  advantage,  but  was  always  in- 
vesting it  in  wrong  securities,  and  so  getting  himself 
into  embarrassed  circumstances.  Full-Private  Number 
One  in  the  Awkward  Squad  of  the  rank  and  file  of  life, 
was  Sloppy,  and  yet  had  his  glimmering  notions  of 
standing  true  to  the  Colours. 

"And  now,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin,  "concerning  Johnny.” 

As  Johnny,  v/ith  his  chin  tucked  in  and  his  lips 
pouting,  reclined  in  Betty’s  lap,  concentrating  his  blue 
eyes  on  the  visitors  and  shading  them  from  observation 
with  a dimpled  arm,  old  Betty  took  one  of  his  fresh  fat 
hands  in  her  withered  right,  and  fell  to  gently  beating 
it  on  her  withered  left. 

"Yes,  ma’am.  Concerning  Johnny.” 


MINDERS  AND  RE-MINDERS.  213 

If  you  trust  the  dear  child  to  me/’  said  Mrs.  Boffin, 
with  a face  inviting  trust,  he  shall  have  the  best  of 
homes,  the  best  of  care,  the  best  of  education,  the  best 
of  friends.  Please  God,  I will  be  a true  good  mother  to 
him  ! ” 

‘‘1  am  thankful  to  you,  ma’am,  and  the  dear  child 
would  be  thankful  if  he  were  old  enough  to  under- 
stand.” Still  lightly  beating  the  little  hand  upon  her 
own.  I wouldn’t  stand  in  the  dear  child’s  light,  not 
if  I had  all  my  life  before  me  instead  of  a very  little  of  it. 
But  I hope  you  won’t  take  it  ill  that  I cleave  to  the  child 
closer  than  words  can  tell,  for  he’s  the  last  living  thing 
left  to  me.” 

Take  it  ill,  my  dear  soul ! Is  it  likely  ? And  you 
so  tender  of  him  as  to  bring  him  home  here  ! ” 

''I  have  seen,”  said  Betty,  still  v/ith  that  light  beat 
upon  her  hard,  rough  hand,  so  many  of  them  on  my 
lap.  And  they  are  all  gone  but  this  one  ! I am  ashamed 
to  seem  so  selfish,  but  I don’t  really  mean  it.  It’ll  be 
the  making  of  his  fortune,  and  he’ll  be  a gentleman 
when  I am  dead.  I — I — don’t  know  what  comes  over 
me.  I — try  against  it.  Don’t  notice  me  ! ” The  light 
beat  stopped,  the  resolute  mouth  gave  way,  and  the  fine 
strong  old  face  broke  up  into  weakness  and  tears. 

Now,  greatly  to  the  relief  of  the  visitors,  the  emo- 
tional Sloppy  no  sooner  beheld  his  patroness  in  this  con- 
dition, than,  throwing  back  his  head  and  throwing  open 
his  mouth,  he  lifted  up  his  voice  and  bellowed.  This 
alarming  note  of  something  wrong  instantly  terrified 
Toddles  and  Poddies,  who  were  no  sooner  heard  to  roar 
surprisingly,  than  Johnny,  curving  himself  the  wrong 
way  and  striking  out  at  Mrs.  Boffin  with  a pair  of  indif- 
ferent shoes,  became  a prey  to  despair.  The  absurdity 
of  the  situation  put  its  pathos  to  the  rout.  Mrs.  Betty 
Higden  was  herself  in  a moment,  and  brought  them  all 
to  order  with  that  speed,  that  Sloppy,  stopping  short  in 
a pollysyllabic  bellow,  transferred  his  energy  to  the 
mangle,  and  had  taken  several  penitential  turns  before 
he  could  be  stopped. 

''There,  there,  there!”  said  Mrs.  Boffin,  almost 
regarding  her  kind  self  as  the  most  ruthless  of  women. 
"Nothing  is  going  to  be  done.  Nobody  need  be 
frightened.  We’re  all  comfortable;  ain’t  v/e,  Mrs, 
Higden  ? ” 


214 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


^^Sure  and  certain  we  are/’  returned  Betty. 

And  there  really  is  no  hurry,  you  know,”  said  Mrs. 
Boffin  in  a lower  voice.  '^Take  time  to  think  of  it,  my 
good  creature  ! ” 

Don’t  you  fear  me  no  more,  ma’am,”  said  Betty; 
I thought  of  it  for  good  yesterday.  I don’t  know  what 
come  over  me  just  now,  but  it’ll  never  come  again.” 

Well,  then,  Johnny  shall  have  more  time  to  think 
of  it,”  returned  Mrs.  Boffin;  ^'the  pretty  child  shall 
have  time  to  get  used  to  it.  And  you’ll  get  him  more 
used  to  it,  if  you  think  well  of  it,  won’t  you  ?” 

Betty  undertook  that,  cheerfully  and  readily. 

Lor,”  cried  Mrs.  Boffin,  looking  radiantly  about  her, 
we  want  to  make  everybody  happy,  not  dismal! — And 
perhaps  you  wouldn’t  mind  letting  me  know  how  used 
to  it  you  begin  to  get,  and  how  it  all  goes  on  ? ” 

'^ril  send  Sloppy,”  said  Mrs.  Higden. 

And  this  gentleman  who  has  come  with  me  will  pay 
him  for  his  trouble,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin.  ^‘And  Mr. 
Sloppy,  whenever  you  come  to  my  house,  be  sure  you 
never  go  away  without  having  had  a good  dinner  of 
meat,  beer,  vegetables,  and  pudding.” 

This  still  further  brightened  the  face  of  affairs  ; for, 
the  highly  sympathetic  Sloppy,  first  broadly  staring 
and  grinning,  and  then  roaring  with  laughter.  Toddles 
and  Poddies  followed  suit,  and  Johnny  trumped  the 
trick.  T and  P considering  these  favourable  circum- 
stances for  the  resumption  of  that  dramatic  descent 
upon  Johnny,  again  came  across-country  hand-in-hand 
upon  a buccaneering  expedition  ; and  this  having  been 
fought  out  in  the  chimney  corner  behind  Mrs.  Higden’s 
chair,  with  great  valour  on  both  sides,  those  desperate 
pirates  returned  hand-in-hand  to  their  stools,  across  the 
dry  bed  of  a mountain  torrent. 

‘ Wou  must  tell  me  what  I can  do  for  you,  Betty,  my 
friend,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin  confidentially,  if  not  to-day, 
next  time.” 

Thank  you  all  the  same,  ma’am,  but  I want  nothing 
for  myself.  I can  work.  I’m  strong.  I can  walk 
twenty  mile  if  I’m  put  to  it.”  Old  Betty  was  proud,  and 
said  it  with  a sparkle  in  her  bright  eyes. 

‘Wes,  but  there  are  some  little  comforts  that  you 
wouldn’t  be  the  worse  for,”  returned  Mrs.  Boffin.  “Bless 
ye,  I wasn’t  born  a lady  any  more  than  you,” 


MINDERS  AND  RE-MINDERS. 


215 


It  seems  to  me/’  said  Betty,  smiling,  ^^that  you 
were  born  a lady,  and  a true  one,  or  there  never  was  a 
lady  born.  But  I couldn’t  take  anything  from  you,  my 
dear.  I never  did  take  anything  from  any  one.  It  ain’t 
that  I’m  not  grateful,  but  I love  to  earn  it  better.” 

Well,  well  ! ” returned  Mrs.  Boffin.  I only  spoke 
of  little  things,  or  I wouldn’t  have  taken  the  liberty.” 

Betty  put  her  visitor’s  hand  to  her  lips,  in  acknowl- 
edgment of  the  delicate  answer.  Wonderfully  upright 
her  figure  was,  and  wonderfully  self-reliant  her  look, 
as,  standing  facing  her  visitor,  she  explained  herself 
further. 

If  I could  have  kept  the  dear  child,  without  the  dread 
that’s  alv/ays  upon  me  of  his  coming  to  that  fate  I have 
spoken  of,  I could  never  have  parted  with  him,  even  to 
you.  For  I love  him,  I love  him,  I love  him  ! I love  my 
husband  long  dead  and  gone,  in  him;  Hove  my  children 
dead  and  gone,  in  him  ; I love  my  young  and  hopeful 
days  dead  and  gone,  in  him.  I couldn’t  sell  that  love, 
and  look  you  in  your  bright  kind  face.  It’s  a free  gift. 
I am  in  want  of  nothing.  When  my  strength  fails 
me,  if  I can  but  die  out  quick  and  quiet,  I shall  be  quite 
content.  I have  stood  between  my  dead  and  that  shame 
I have  spoken  of,  and  it  has  been  kept  off  from  every 
one  of  them.  Sewed  into  my  gown,”  with  her  hand 
ujjon  her  breast,  ‘‘  is  just  enough  to  lay  me  in  the  grave. 
Only  see  that  its  rightly  spent,  so  as  I may  rest  free  to 
the  last  from  that  cruelty  and  disgrace,  and  you’ll  have 
done  much  more  than  a little  thing  for  me,  and  all  that 
in  this  present  world  my  heart  is  set  upon.” 

Mrs.  Betty  Higden’s  visitor  pressed  her  hand.  There 
was  no  more  breaking  up  of  the  strong  old  face  into 
weakness.  My  Lords  and  Gentlemen  and  Honourable 
Boards,  it  really  was  as  composed  as  our  own  faces,  and 
almost  as  dignified. 

And  now,  Johnny  was  to  be  inveigled  into  occupying 
a temporary  position  on  Mrs.  Boffin’s  lap.  It  was  not 
until  he  had  been  piqued  into  competition  with  the  two 
diminutive  Minders,  by  seeing  them  successively  raised 
to  that  post  and  retire  from  it  without  injury,  that  he 
could  be  by  any  means  induced  to  leave  Mrs.  Betty  Hig- 
den’s skirts;  towards  which  he  exhibited,  even  when  in 
Mrs.  Boffin’s  embrace,  strong  yearnings,  spiritual  and 
bodily;  the  former  expressed  in  a very  gloomy  visage. 


21G 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


the  latter  in  extended  arms.  However,  a general  de- 
scription of  the  toy- wonders  lurking  in  Mrs.  BoffiiTs 
house,  so  far  conciliated  this  worldly-minded  orphan  as 
to  induce  him  to  stare  at  her  frowningly,  with  a fist  in 
his  mouth,  and  even  at  length  to  chuckle  when  a richly- 
caparisoned  horse  on  wheels,  with  a miraculous  gift  of 
cantering  to  cake-shops,  was  mentioned.  This  sound 
being  taken  up  by  the  Minders,  swelled  into  a rapturous 
trio  which  gave  general  satisfaction. 

So,  the  interview  was  considered  very  successful,  and 
Mrs.  Boffin  was  pleased,  and  all  were  satisfied.  Not 
least  of  all.  Sloppy,  who  un-dertook  to  conduct  the  visi- 
tors hack  by  the  best  way  to  the  Three  Magpies,  and 
whom  the  hammer-headed  young  man  much 
despised. 

This  piece  of  business  thus  put  in  train,  the  Secretary 
drove  Mrs.  Boffin  back  to  the  Bower,  and  found  employ- 
ment for  himself  at  the  new  house  until  evening. 
Whether,  when  evening  came,  he  took  a way  to  his 
lodgings  that  led  through  fields,  with  any  design  of 
finding  Miss  Bella  Wilfer  in  those  fields,  is  not  so  cer- 
tain as  that  she  regularly  walked  there  at  that  hour. 

And,  moreover,  it  is  certain  that  there  she  was. 

No  longer  in  mourning.  Miss  Bella  was  dressed  in  as 
pretty  colours  as  she  could  muster.  There  is  no  denying 
that  she  was  as  pretty  as  they,  and  that  she  and  the 
colours  went  very  prettily  together.  She  was  reading 
as  she  walked,  and  of  course  it  is  to  be  inferred,  from 
her  showing  no  knowledge  of  Mr.  Rokesmith’s  approach, 
that  she  did  not  know  he  was  approaching. 

^^Eh?’’  said  Miss  Bella,  raising  her  eyes  from  her 
book,  when  he  stopped  before  her.  ‘^Oh!  It's  you!’’ 

Only  I.  A fine  evening!” 

^^Is  it?”  said  Bella,  looking  coldly  around.  I sup- 
pose it  is,  now  you  mention  it.  I have  not  been  think- 
ing of  the  evening.” 

So  intent  upon  your  book?” 

^We-e-es,”  replied  Bella,  with  a drawl  of  indifference. 

A love  story.  Miss  Wilfer?  ” 

Oh  dear  no,  or  I shouldn’t  be  reading  it.  It’s  more 
about  money  than  anything  else.” 

'^And  does  it  say  that  money  is  better  than  any 
thing?” 

IJpon  my  word,”  returned  Bella,  forget  what  it 


MINDERS  AND  RE-MINDERS. 


217 


says,  but  you  can  find  out  for  yourself,  if  you  like,  Mr. 
Rokesmith,  I don’t  want  it  any  more.” 

The  Secretary  took  the  book — she  had  fluttered  the 
leaves  as  if  it  were  a fan — and  walked  beside  her. 

I am  charged  with  a message  for  you.  Miss  Wilfer.” 

Impossible,  I think!”  said  Bella  with  another  drawl. 

‘'From  Mrs.  Boffin.  She  desired  me  to  assure  you  of 
the  pleasure  she  has  in  finding  that  she  will  be  ready 
to  receive  you  in  another  week  or  two  at  furthest.” 

Bella  turned  her  head  towards  him,  with  her  prettily 
insolent  eyebrows  raised,  and  her  eyelids  drooping.  As 
much  as  to  say,  How  did  you  come  by  the  message, 
pray?” 

“I  have  been  waiting  for  an  opportunitj* of  telling 
you  that  I am  Mr.  Boffin’s  Secretary.” 

“I  am  as  wise  as  ever,”  said  Miss  Bella,  loftily,  “for 
I don’t  know  what  a Secretary  is.  Not  that  it  signi- 
fies.” 

“ Not  at  all.” 

A covert  glance  at  her  face,  as  he  walked  beside  her, 
showed  him  that  she  had  not  expected  his  ready  assent 
to  that  proposition. 

“ Then  are  you  going  to  be  always  there,  Mr.  Roke- 
smith?” she  inquired  as  if  that  would  be  a drawback. 

‘ ‘ Always  ? No.  V ery  much  there  ? Y es.  ” 

“ Dear  me!”  drawled  Bella,  in  a tone  of  mortification. 

“ But  my  position  there  as  Secretary  will  be  very  dif- 
ferent fropa  yours  as  guest.  You  will  know  little  or 
nothing  about  me.  I shall  transact  the  business;  you 
will  transact  the  pleasure.  I shall  have  my  salary  to 
earn;  you  will  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  enjoy  and 
attract.” 

“ Attract,  sir  ?”  said  Bella,  again  with  her  eyebrows 
raised,  and  her  eyelids  drooping.  “I  don’t  understand 
you.  ” 

Without  replying  on  this  point,  Mr.  Rokesmith  went 
on. 

“Excuse  me;  when  I first  saw  you  in  your  black 
*dress ” 

(“There!”  was  Miss  Bella’s  mental  exclamation. 
“ What  did  I say  to  them  at  home  ? Everybody  noticed 
that  ridiculous  mourning.”) 

“When  I first  saw  you  in  your  black  dress,  I was  at 
a loss  to  account  for  that  distinction  between  yourself 


218 


OUR  MUTTAL  FRIEND. 


and  your  family.  I hope  it  was  not  impertinent  to 
speculate  upon  it  ? ” 

hope  not,  I am  sure,’’  said  Miss  Bella,  haughtily. 

But  you  ought  to  know  best  how  you  speculated  upon 
it.” 

Mr.  Rokesmith  inclined  his  head  in  a deprecatory 
manner,  and  went  on. 

Since  I have  been  entrusted  with  Mr.  Boffin’s  affairs, 
I have  necessarily  come  to  understand  the  little  mys- 
tery. I venture  to  remark,  that  much  of  your  loss  may 
be  repaired.  I speak,  of  course,  merely  of  wealth.  Miss 
Wilfer.  The  loss  of  a perfect  stranger,  whose  worth  or 
worthlessness,  I cannot  estimate — nor  you  either — is 
beside  th^  question.  But  this  excellent  gentleman  and 
lady  are  so  full  of  simplicity,  so  full  of  generosity,  so 
inclined  towards  you,  and  so  desirous  to — how  shall  I 
express  it  ? — to  make  amends  for  their  good  fortune,  that 
you  have  only  to  respond.” 

As  he  watched  her  with  another  covert  look,  he  saw 
a certain  ambitious  triumph  in  her  face  which  no  as- 
sumed coldness  could  conceal. 

'^As  we  have  been  brought  under  one  roof  by  an 
accidental  combination  of  circumstances,  which  oddly 
extends  itself  to  the  new  relations  before  us,  I have 
taken  the  liberty  of  saying  these  few  words.  You  don’t 
consider  them  intrusive  I hope  ? ” said  the  Secretary 
with  deference. 

'‘  Really,  Mr.  Rokesmith,  I can’t  say  what  I consider 
them,”  returned  the  young  lady.  "They  are  perfectly 
new  to  me,  and  may  be  founded  altogether  on  your 
imagination.” 

"You  will  see.” 

These  same  fields  were  opposite  the  Wilfer  premises. 
The  discreet  Mrs.  Wilfer  now  looking  out  of  window 
and  beholding  her  daughter  in  conference  with  her 
lodger,  instantly  tied  up  her  head  and  came  out  for  a 
casual  walk. 

"I  have  been  telling  Miss  Wilfer,”  said  John  Roke- 
smith, as  the  majestic  lady  came  stalking  up,  "that  T 
have  become,  by  a curious  chance,  Mr.  Boffin’s  Secre- 
tary or  man  of  business.” 

"I  have  not,”  returned  Mrs.  Wilfer,  waving  her 
gloves,  in  her  chronic  state  of  dignity,  and  vague  ill- 
usage,  "the  honour  of  any  intimate  acquaintance  with 


MINDERS  AND  RE-MINDERS. 


210 


Mr.  Boffin,  and  it  is  not  for  me  to  congratulate  that 
gentleman  on  the  acquisition  he  has  made.” 

A poor  one  enough,”  said  Rokesmith. 

Pardon  me,”  returned  Mrs.  Wilfer,  ''the  merits  of 
Mr.  Boffin  may  be  highly  distinguished — may  be  more 
distinguished  than  the  countenance  of  Mrs.  Boffin 
would  imply — but  it  were  the  insanity  of  humility  to 
deem  him  worthy  of  a better  assistant.” 

"You  are  very  good.  I have  also  been  telling  Miss 
Wilfer  that  she  is  expected  very  shortly  at  the  new 
residence  in  town.” 

"Having  tacitly  consented,”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer,  with  a 
grand  shrug  of  her  shoulders,  and  another  wave  of  her 
gloves,  "to  my  child’s  acceptance  of  the  proffered 
attentions  of  Mrs.  Boffin,  I interpose  no  objection.” 

Here  Miss  Bella  offered  the  remonstrance  : " Don’t 
talk  nonsense,  ma,  please.” 

"Peace  !”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer. 

"No,  ma,  I am  not  going  to  be  made  so  absurd.  Inter- 
posing objections  ! ” 

"I  say,’'  repeated  Mrs.  Wilfer,  with  a vast  access  of 
grandeur,  "that  I am  not  going  to  interpose  objections.  If 
Mrs.  Boffin  (to  whose  countenance  no  disciple  of  Lavater 
could  possibly  for  a single  moment  subscribe),”  with  a 
shiver,  "seeks  to  illuminate  her  new  residence  in  town 
with  the  attractions  of  a child  of  mine,  I am  content 
that  she  should  be  favoured  by  the  company  of  a child 
of  mine.” 

"You  use  the  word,  ma’am,  I have  myself  used,” 
said  Rokesmith,  with  a glance  at  Bella,  " when  you 
speak  of  Miss  Wilfer’s  attractions  there.” 

"Pardon  me,”  returned  Mrs.  Wilfer,  with  dreadful 
solemnit}’^,  "but  I had  not  finished.” 

"Pray  excuse  me.” 

"I  was  about  to  say,”  pursued  Mrs.  Wilfer,  who 
clearly  had  not  had  the  faintest  idea  of  saying  anything 
more,  "that  when  I use  the  term  attractions,  I do  so 
with  the  qualification^that  I do  not  mean  it  in  any  way 
whatever.” 

^ The  excellent  lady  delivered  this  luminous  elucida- 
tion of  her  views  with  an  air  of  greatly  obliging  her 
hearers,  and  greatly  distinguishing  herself.  Whereat 
Miss  Bella  laughed  a scornful  little  laugh  and  said: 

" Quite  enough  about  this,  I am  sure,  on  all  sides. 


220 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Have  the  goodness^  Mr.  Rokesmith,  to  give  my  love  to 
Mrs.  Boffin ’’ 

Pardon  me!”  cried  Mrs.  Wilfer.  ^^Compliments.” 

^‘^Love!”  repeated  Bella,  with  a little  stamp  of  her 
foot. 

^^No!”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer,  monotonously.  Compli- 
ments.” 

(''Say  Miss  Wilfer’s  love,  and  Mrs.  WilfePs  compli- 
ments,” the  Secretary  proposed,  as  a compromise.) 

" And  I shall  be  very  glad  to  come  when  she  is  ready 
for  me.  The  sooner,  the  better.” 

" One  last  word,  Bella,”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer,  " before  de- 
scending to  the  family  apartment.  I trust  that  as  a 
child  of  mine  you  will  ever  be  sensible  that  it  will  be 
graceful  in  you,  when  associating  with  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Boffin  upon  equal  terms,  to  remember  that  the  Secre- 
tary, Mr.  Rokesmith,  as  your  father’s  lodger,  has  a claim 
on  your  good  word.” 

The  condescension  with  which  Mrs.  Wilfer  delivered 
this  proclamation  of  patronage,  was  as  wonderful  as 
the  swiftness  with  which  the  lodger  had  lost  caste  in 
the  Secretary.  He  smiled  as  the  mother  retired  down- 
stairs; but  his  face  fell,  as  the  daughter  followed. 

" So  insolent,  so  trivial,  so  capricious,  so  mercenary, 
so  careless,  so  hard  to  touch,  so  hard  to  turn!”  he  said, 
bitterly. 

And  added  as  he  went  up-stairs.  " And  yet  so  pretty, 
so  pretty!” 

And  added  presently,  as  he  walked  to  and  fro  in  his 
room,  " And  if  she  knew!” 

She  knew  that  he  was  shaking  the  house  by  his  walk- 
ing to  and  fro  ; and  she  declared  it  another  of  the 
miseries  of  being  poor,  that  you  couldn’t  get  rid  of  a 
haunting  Secretary,  stump — stump — stumping  overhead 
in  the  dark,  like  a Ghost. 


CHAPTER  XYII. 

A DISMAL  SWAMP. 

And  now,  in  the  blooming  summer  days,  behold  Mr. 

and  Mrs.  Boffin  established  in  the  eminently  aris- 
tocratic family  mansion,  and  behold  all  manner  of  crawl- 


A DISMAL  SWAMP. 


221 


ing,  creeping,  fluttering,  and  buzzing  creatures,  attrac- 
ted by  the  gold  dust  of  the  Golden  Dustman  ! 

Foremost  among  those  leaving  cards  at  the  eminently 
aristocratic  door  before  it  is  quite  painted,  are  the  Ve- 
; neerings  ; out  of  breath,  one  might  imagine,  from  the 
. impetuosity  of  their  rush  to  the  eminently  aristocratic 
! steps.  One  copper-plate  Mrs.  Veneering,  two  copper- 
I plate  Mr.  Veneerings,  and  a connubial  copper-plate  Mr. 

! and  Mrs.  Veneering,  requesting  the  honour  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Boffin’s  company  at  dinner  with  the  utmost  An- 
alytical solemnities.  The  enchanting  Lady  Tippins 
leaves  a card.  Twemlow  leaves  cards.  A tall  custard- 
coloured  phaeton  tooling  up  in  a solemn  manner  leaves 
four  cards,  to  wit,  a couple  of  Mr.  Podsnap’s,  a Mrs.  Pod- 
snap,  and  a Miss  Podsnap.  All  the  world  and  his  wife 
and  daughters  leave  cards.  Sometimes  the  world’s  wife 
has  so  many  daughters,  that  her  card  reads  rather  like 
a Miscellaneous  Lot  at  an  Auction  ; comprising  Mrs. 
Tapkins,  Miss  Tapkins,  Miss  Frederica  Tapkins,  Miss 
Antonia  Tapkins,  Miss  Malvina  Tapkins,  and  Miss  Eu- 
phemia  Tapkins  ; at  the  same  time  the  same  lady  leaves 
the  card  of  Mrs.  Henry  George  Alfred  Swoshle,  nee  Tap- 
kins ; also  a card,  Mrs.  Tapkins  at  Home,  Wednesdays, 
Music,  Portland  Place. 

Miss  Bella  Wilfer  becomes  an  inmate,  for  an  indefi- 
nite period,  of  the  eminently  aristocratic  dwelling. 
Mrs.  Boffin  bears  Miss  Bella  away  to  her  Milliner’s  and 
Dressmaker’s,  and  she  gets  beautifully  dressed.  The 
Veneerings  find  with  swift  remorse  that  they  have 
omitted  to  invite  Miss  Bella  Wilfer.  One  Mrs.  Veneer- 
ing and  one  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Veneering  requesting  that  ad- 
ditional honour,  instantly  do  penance  in  white  card- 
board on  the  hall  table.  Mrs.  Tapkins  likewise  discov- 
ers her  omission,  and  with  promptitude  repairs  it ; for 
herself,  for  Miss  Tapkins,  for  Miss  Frederica  Tapkins, 
for  Miss  Antonia  Tapkins,  for  Miss  Malvina  Tapkins, 
and  for  Miss  Euphemia  Tapkins.  Likewise,  for  Mrs. 
Henry  George  Alfred  Swoshle,  nee  Tapkins.  Likewise, 
for  Mrs.  Tapkins,  at  Home,  Music,  Wednesday,  Portland 
Place. 

Tradesmen’s  books  hunger,  and  Tradesmen’s  mouths 
water,  for  the  gold  dust  of  the  Golden  Dustman.  As 
Mrs.  Boffin  and  Miss  Wilfer  drive  out,  or  as  Mr.  Boffin 
walks  out  at  his  jog-trot  pace,  the  fishmonger  pulls  off 


‘>‘>9 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


his  hat  with  an  air  of  reverence  founded  on  conviction. 
His  men  cleanse  their  fingers  on  their  woolen  aprons 
before  presuming  to  touch  their  foreheads  to  Mr.  Boffin 
or  Lady.  The  gaping  salmon  and  the  golden  mullet 
lying  on  the  slab  seem  to  turn  up  their  eyes  sideways, 
as  they  would  turn  up  their  hands  if  they  had  any  in 
worshipping  admiration.  The  butcher,  though  a portly 
and  a prosperous  man,  doesn’t  knovf  what  to  do  with 
himself,  so  anxious  is  he  to  express  humility  when  dis- 
covered by  the  passing  Boffins  taking  the  air  in  a 
mutton  grove.  Presents  are  made  to  the  Boffin  servants, 
and  bland  strangers  with  business-cards  meeting  said 
servants  in  the  street,  offer  hypothetical  corruption. 
As,  Supposing  I was  to  be  favoured  with  an  order  from 
Mr.  Boffin,  my  dear  friend,  it  would  be  worth  my 
while” — to  do  a certain  thing  that  I hope  might  not 
prove  wholly  disagreeable  to  your  feelings. 

But  no  one  knows  so  well  as  the  Secretary,  who  opens 
and  reads  the  letters,  what  a set  is  made  at  the  man 
marked  by  a stroke  of  notoriety.  Oh  the  varieties  of 
dust  for  ocular  use,  offered  in  exchange  for  the  gold 
dust  of  the  Grolden  Dustman!  Fifty-seven  churches  to 
be  erected  with  half-crowns,  forty-two  parsonage  houses 
to  be  repaired  with  shillings,  seven-and-twenty  organs 
to  be  built  with  half-pence,  twelve  hundred  children 
to  be  brought  up  on  postage  stamps.  Not  that  a half- 
crown,  shilling,  halfpenny,  or  postage  stamp,  would  be 
particularly  acceptable  from  Mr.  Boffin,  but  that  it  is  so 
obvious  he  is  the  man  to  make  up  the  deficiency.  And 
then  the  charities,  my  Christian  brother!  And  mostly 
in  difficulties,  yet  mostly  lavish,  too,  in  the  expensive 
articles  of  print  and  paper.  Large  fat  private  double 
letter,  sealed  with  ducal  coronet.  Mcodemus  Boffin, 
Esquire.  My  dear  sir, — Having  consented  to  preside 
at  the  forthcoming  Annual  Dinner  of  the  Family  Party 
Fund,  and  feeling  deeply  impressed  with  the  immense 
usefulness  of  that  noble  Institution  and  the  great  im- 
portance of  its  being  supported  by  a List  of  Stewards 
that  shall  prove  to  the  public  the  interest  taken  in  it  by 
popular  and  distinguished  men,  I have  undertaken  to 
ask  you  to  become  a Steward  on  that  occasion.  Solicit- 
ing your  favorable  reply  before  the  14th  instant,  I am. 
My  Dear  Sir,  Your  faithful  Servant,  Linseed.  P.S.  The 
Steward’s  fee  is  limited  to  three  Guineas.”  Friendly 


A DISMAL  SWAMP. 


223 


this,  on  the  part  of  the  Duke  of  Linseed  (and  thoughtful 
in  the  postcript),  only  lithographed  by  the  hundred  and 
presenting  but  a pale  individuality  of  address  to  Nico- 
demus  Boffin,  Esquire,  in  quite  another  hand.  It  takes 
two  noble  Earls  and  a viscount,  combined,  to  inform 
Nicodemus  Boffin,  Esquire,  in  an  equally  flattering 
manner,  that  an  estimable  lady  in  the  West  of  England 
has  offered  to  present  a purse  containing  twenty  pounds, 
to  the  Society  for  Granting  Annuities  to  Unassuming 
Members  of  the  Middle  Classes,  if  twenty  individuals 
will  previously  present  purses  of  one  hundred  pounds 
each.  And  those  benevolent  noblemen  very  kindly 
point  out  that  if  Mcodemus  Boffin,  Esquire,  should 
wish  to  present  two  or  more  purses,  it  will  not  be  incon- 
sistent with  the  design  of  the  estimable  lady  in  the 
West  of  England,  provided  each  purse  be  coupled  with 
the  name  of  some  member  of  his  honoured  and  respected 
family. 

These  are  the  corporate  beggars.  But  there  are,  be- 
sides, the  individual  beggars  ; and  how  does  the  head 
of  the  Secretary  fail  him  when  he  has  to  cope  with  them ! 
And  they  must  be  coped  with  to  some  extent,  because 
they  all  enclose  documents  (they  call  their  scraps 
documents  ; but  they  are,  as  to  papers  deserving  the 
name,  what  minced  veal  is  to  a calf),  the  non-return  of 
which  would  be  their  ruin.  That  is  to  say,  they  are 
utterly  ruined  now,  but  they  would  be  more  utterly 
ruined  then.  Among  these  correspondents  are  several 
daughters  of  general  officers,  long  accustomed  to  every 
luxury  of  life  (except  spelling),  who  little  thought,  when 
their  gallant  fathers  waged  war  in  the  Peninsula,  that 
they  would  ever  have  to  appeal  to  those  whom  Provi- 
dence, in  its  inscrutable  wisdom,  has  blessed  with  untold 
gold,  and  from  among  whom  they  select  the  name  of 
Mcodemus  Boffin,  Esquire,  for  a maiden  effort  in  this 
wise,  understanding  that  he  has  such  a heart  as  never 
was.  The  Secretary  learns,  too,  that  confidence  between 
man  and  wife  would  seem  to  obtain  but  rarely  when 
virtue  is  in  distress,  so  numerous  are  the  wives  who 
take  up  their  pens  to  ask  Mr.  Boffin  for  money  without 
the  knowledge  of  their  devoted  husbands,  who  would 
never  permit  it ; while,  on  the  other  hand,  so  numerous 
are  the  husbands  who  take  up  their  pens  to  ask  Mr. 
Boffin  for  money  without  the  knowledge  of  their  devoted 


224 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


wives,  who  would  instantly  go  out  of  their  senses  if  they 
had  the  least  suspicion  of  the  circumstance.  There  are 
the  inspired  beggars,  too.  These  were  sitting,  only 
yesterday  evening,  musing  over  a fragment  of  candle 
which  must  soon  go  out  and  leave  them  in  the  dark  for 
the  rest  of  their  nights,  when  surely  some  Angel 
whispered  the  name  of  Mcodemus  Boffin,  Esquire,  to 
their  souls,  imparting  rays  of  hope,  nay  confidence,  to. 
which  they  had  long  been  strangers  ! Akin  to  these  are 
the  suggestively-befriended  beggars.  They  were  partak- 
ing of  a cold  potato  and  water  by  the  flickering  and 
gloomy  light  of  a lucifer-match,  in  their  lodgings  (rent 
considerably  in  arrear,  and  heartless  landlady  threaten- 
ing expulsion  ^^like  a dog’’  into  the  streets),  when  a 
gifted  friend  happening  to  look  in,  said,  Write  immed- 
iately to  Nicodemus  Boffin,  Esquire,”  and  would  take 
no  denial.  There  are  the  nobly  independent  beggars 
too.  These,  in  the  days  of  their  abundance,  ever 
regarded  gold  as  dross,  and  have  not  yet  got  over  that 
only  impediment  in  the  way  of  their  amassing  wealth, 
but  they  want  no  dross  from  Mcodemus  Boffin,  Esquire  ; 
No,  Mr.  Boffin ; the  world  may  term  it  pride,  paltry 
pride  if  you  will,  but  they  wouldn’t  take  it  if  you 
offered  it ; a loan,  sir — for  fourteen  weeks  to  the  day, 
interest  calculated  at  the  rate  of  five  per  cent,  per 
annum,  to  be  bestowed  upon  any  charitable  institution 
you  may  name — is  all  they  want  of  you,  and  if  you  have 
the  meanness  to  refuse  it,  count  on  being  despised  by 
these  great  spirits.  There  are  the  beggars  of  punctual 
business  habits  too.  These  will  make  an  end  of  them- 
selves at  a quarter  to  one  p.  m.  on  Tuesday,  if  no  Post- 
office  order  is  in  the  interim  received  from  Mcodemus 
Boffin,  Esquire  ; arriving  after  a quarter  to  one  p.  m.  on 
Tuesday,  it  need  not  be  sent,  as  they  will  then  (having 
made  an  exact  memorandum  of  the  heartless  circum- 
stances) be  ^^cold  in  death.”  There  are  the  beggars  on 
horseback  too,  in  another  sense  from  the  sense  of  the 

Sroverb.  These  are  mounted  and  ready  to  start  on  the 
ighway  to  affluence.  The  goal  is  before  them,  the 
road  is  in  the  best  condition,  their  spurs  are  on,  the 
steed  is  willing,  but,  at  the  last  moment,  for  want  of 
some  special  thing — a clock,  a violin,  an  astronomical 
telescope,  an  electrifying  machine — they  must  dismount 
for  ever,  unless  they  receive  its  equivalent  in  money 


A DISMAL  SWAMP. 


226 


from  Nicodemus  Boffin,  Esquire.  Less  given  to  detail 
are  the  beggars  who  make  sporting  ventures.  These, 
usually  to  be  addressed  in  reply  under  initials  at  a 
country  post-office,  inquire  in  feminine  hands,  Dare  one 
who  cannot  disclose  herself  to  Nicodemus  Boffin, 
Esquire,  but  whose  name  might  startle  him  were  it, 
revealed,  solicit  the  immediate  advance  of  two  hundred 
pounds  from  unexpected  riches  exercising  their  noblest 
privilege  in  the  trust  of  a common  humanity  ? 

In  such  a Dismal  Swamp  does  the  new  house  stand, 
and  through  it  does  the  Secretary  daily  struggle  breast- 
high.  Not  to  mention  all  the  people  alive  who  have 
made  inventions  that  won’t  act,  and  all  the  jobbers  who 
job  in  all  the  jobberies  jobbed ; though  these  may  be 
regarded  as  the  Alligators  of  the  Dismal  Swamp,  and 
are  always  lying  by  to  drag  the  Golden  Dustman  under. 

But  the  old  house.  There  are  no  designs  against  the 
Golden  Dustman  there  ! There  are  no  fish  of  the  shark 
tribe  in  the  Bower  waters  ! Perhaps  not.  Still,  Wegg 
is  established  there,  and  would  seem,  judged  by  his 
secret  proceedings,  to  cherish  a notion  of  making  a dis- 
covery. For,  when  a man  with  a wooden  leg  lies  prone 
on  his  stomach  to  peep  under  bedsteads ; and  hops  up 
ladders,  like  some  extinct  bird,  to  survey  the  tops:  of 
presses  and  cupboards  ; and  provides  himself  an  iron 
rod  which  he  is  always  poking;  and;  prodding  into  dust- 
mounds  ; the.  probability  is  that  he  expects  to  find  some- 
thing. 

THE  EHB  OF  THE  FIHST  BOOK. 


VOL.  I. 


15 


22Q 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


BOOK  THE  SECOND.  BIRDS  OF  A FEATHER. 


CHAPTER  I 

OF  AN  EDUCATIONAL  CHARACTER. 

The  school  at  which  young  Charley  Hexam  had  first 
learned  from  a book — the  streets  being,  for  pupils 
of  his  degree,  the  great  Preparatory  Establishment  in 
which  very  much  that  is  never  unlearned  is  learned 
without  and  before  book — was  a miserable  loft  in  an 
unsavoury  yard.  Its  atmosphere  was  oppressive  and 
disagreeable;  it  was  crowded,  noisy  and  confusing;  half 
the  pupils  dropped  asleep,  or  fell  into  a state  of  waking 
stupefaction;  the  other  half  kept  them  in  either  condi- 
tion by  maintaining  a monotonous  droning  noise,  as  if 
they  were  performing,  out  of  time  and  tune,  on  a ruder 
sort  of  bagpipe.  The  teachers,  animated  solely  by  good 
intentions,  had  no  idea  of  execution,  and  a lamentable 
jumble  was  the  upshot  of  their  kind  endeavours. 

It  was  a school  for  all  ages,  and  for  both  sexes.  The 
latter  were  kept  apart,  and  the  former  were  partitioned 
off  into  square  assortments.  But  all  the  place  was  per- 
vaded by  a grimly  ludicrous  pretence  that  every  pupil 
was  childish  and  innocent.  This  pretence,  much  fa- 
voured by  the  lady-visitors,  led  to  the  ghastliest  absurdi-, 
ties.  Young  women  old  in  the  vices  of  the  commonest 
and  worst  life,  were  expected  to  profess  themselves  en- 
thralled by  the  good  child’s  book,  the  Adventures  of 
Little  Margery,  who  resided  in  the  village  cottage  by 
the  mill;  severely  reproved  and  morally  squashed  the 
miller,  when  she  was  five  and  he  was  fifty;  divided  her 
porridge  with  singing  birds;  denied  herself  a new  nan- 
keen bonnet,  on  the  ground  that  the  turnips  did  not 
wear  nankeen  bonnets,  neither  did  the  sheep  who  ate 
them;  who  plaited  straw  and  delivered  the  dreariest 


OF  AN  EDUCATIONAL  CHAKACTER.  227 


orations  to  all  comers,  at  all  sorts  of  unseasonable 
times.  So,  unwieldy  young  dredgers  and  hulking  mud- 
larks were  referred  to  the  experiences  of  Thomas  Two- 
pence, who,  having  resolved  not  to  rob  (under  circum- 
stances of  uncommon  atrocity)  his  particular  friend  and 
benefactor,  of  eighteenpence,  presently  came  into  super- 
natural possession  of  thi^ee  and  sixpence,  and  lived  a 
shining  light  ever  afterwards.  (Note,  that  the  bene- 
factor came  to  no  good.)  Several  swaggering  sinners 
had  written  their  own  biographies  in  the  same  strain; 
it  always  appearing  from  the  lessons  of  those  very 
boastful  persons,  that  you  were  to  do  good,  not  because 
it  wa^  good,  but  l)ecause  you  were  to  make  a good  thing 
of  it.  Contrariwise,  the  adult  pupils  were  taught  to 
read  (if  they  could  learn)  out  of  the  New  Testament; 
and  by  dint  of  stumbling  over  the  syllables  and  keep- 
ing their  bewildered  eyes  on  the  particular  syllables 
coming  round  to  their  turn,  were  as  absolutely  ignorant 
of  the  sublime  history  as  if  they  had  never  seen  or 
heard  of  it.  An  exceedingly  and  conf oundingly  perplex- 
ing jumble  of  a school,  in  fact,  where  black  spirits  and 
grey,  red  spirits  and  white,  jumbled  jumbled  jumbled 
jumbled,  jumbled  every  night.  And  particularly  every 
Sunday  night.  For  then,  an  inclined  plane  of  unfortu- 
nate infants  would  be  handed  over  to  the  prosiest  and 
v/orst  of  all  the  teachers  with  good  intentions,  whom 
nobody  older  would  endure.  Who,  taking  his  stand  on 
the  floor  before  them  as  chief  executioner,  would  be  at- 
tended by  a conventional  volunteer  boy  as  executioner’s 
assistant.  When  and  where  it  first  became  the  conven- 
tional system  that  a weary  or  inattentive  infant  in  a 
class  must  have  its  face  smoothed  downward  with  a hot 
hand,  or  when  and  where  the  conventional  volunteer 
boy  first  beheld  such  system  in  operation,  and  became 
inflamed  with  a sacred  zeal  to  administer  it,  matters 
not.  It  was  the  function  of  the  chief  executioner  to 
hold  forth,  and  it  was  the  function  of  the  acolyte  to 
dart  at  sleeping  infants,  yawning  infants,  restless  in- 
fants, whimpering  infants,  and  smooth  their  wretched 
faces;  sometimes  with  one  hand,  as  if  he  were  anoint- 
ing them  for  a whisker;  sometimes  with  both  hands, 
applied  after  the  fashion  of  blinkers.  And  so  the  jum- 
ble would  be  in  action  in  this  department  for  a mortal 
hour;  the  exponent  drawling  on  to  My  Dearerr  Childer- 


338 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


reneer^  let  us  say,  for  example,  about  the  beautiful 
coming  to  the  Sepulchre;  and  repeating  the  word  Sepul- 
chre (commonly  used  among  infants)  five  hundred 
times,  and  never  once  hinting  what  it  meant;  the  con- 
ventional boy  smoothing  away  right  and  left,  as  an  in- 
fallible commentary;  the  whole  hot-bed  of  fiushed  and 
exhausted  infants  exchanging  measles,  rashes,  whoop- 
ing-cough, fever,  and  stomach  disorders,  as  if  they  were 
assembled  in  High  Market  for  the  purpose. 

Even  in  this  temple  of  good  intentions,  an  exception- 
ally sharp  boy  exceptionally  determined  to  learn,  could 
leajn  something,  and  having  learned  it,  could  impart  it 
much  better  than  the  teachers;  as  being  more  knowing 
than  they,  and  not  at  the  disadvantage  in  which  they 
stood  towards  the  shrewder  pupils.  In  this  way  it  had 
come  about  that  Charley  Hexam  had  risen  in  the  jumble, 
taught  in  the  jumble,  and  been  received  from  the  jum- 
ble into  a better  school. 

So  you  want  to  go  and  see  your  sister,  Hexam?  ’’ 

^Hf  you  please,  Mr.  Headstone.^’ 

have  half  a,  mind  to  go  with  you.  Where  does 
your  sister  live?’^ 

^ Why,  she  is  not  settled  yet,  Mr.  Headstone.  Td  rather 
you  didn’t  see  her  till  she  is  settled,  if  it  was  all  the 
same  to  you.” 

Look  here,  Hexam.”  Mr.  Bradley  Headstone,  highly 
certificated  stipendiary  schoolmaster,  drew  his  right 
forefinger  through  one  of  the  buttonholes  of  the  boy’s 
coat  and  looked  at  it  attentively.  I hope  your  sister 
may  be  good  company  for  you.” 

Why  do  you  doubt  it,  Mr.  Headstone?” 

I did  not  say  I doubted  it.” 

^^No,  sir;  you  didn’t  say  so.” 

Bradley  Headstone  looked  at  his  finger  again,  took  it 
out  of  the  buttonhole  and  looked  at  it  closer,  bit  the  side 
of  it  and  looked  at  it  again. 

You  see,  Hexam,  you  will  be  one  of  us.  In  good 
time  you  are  sure  to  pass  a creditable  examination  and 
become  one  of  us.  Then  the  question  is ” 

The  boy  waited  so  long  for  the  question,  while  the 
schoolmaster  looked  at  a new  side  of  his  finger,  and  bit 
it,  and  looked  at  it  again,  that  at  length  the  boy  re- 
peated: 

^^The  question  is,  sir — ?” 


OF  AN  EDUCATIONAL  VALUE. 


229 


Whether  you  had  not  better  leave  well  alone.’’ 
it  well  to  leave  my  sister  alone,  Mr.  Headstone?” 

I do  not  say  so,  because  I do  not  know.  I put  it  to 
you.  I ask  you  to  think  of  it.  I want  you  to  consider. 
You  know  how  well  you  are  doing  here.” 

After  all,  she  got  me  here,”  said  the  boy,  with  a 
struggle. 

Perceiving  the  necessity  of  it,”  acquiesced  the  school- 
master, ^“^and  making  up  her  mind  fully  to  the  separa- 
tion. Yes.” 

The  boy,  with  a return  of  that  former  reluctance  or 
struggle,  or  whatever  it  was,  seemed  to  debate  with 
himself.  At  length  he  said,  raising  his  eyes  to  his 
master’s  face: 

I wish  you’d  come  with  me  and  see  her,  Mr.  Head- 
stone, though  she  is  not  settled.  I wish  you’d  come 
with  me,  and  take  her  in  the  rough,  and  judge  her  for 
yourself.” 

^Wou  are  sure  you  would  not  like,”  asked  the  school- 
master, ^^to  prepare  her  ?” 

My  sister  Lizzie,”  said  the  boy,  proudly,  wants  no 
preparing,  Mr.  Headstone.  What  she  is,  she  is,  and 
shows  herself  to  be.  There’s  no  pretending  about  ray 
sister.” 

His  confidence  in  her  sat  more  easily  upon  him  than 
the  indecision  with  which  he  had  twice  contended.  It 
was  his  better  nature  to  be  true  to  her,  if  it  were  his 
worse  nature  to  be  wholly  selfish.  And  as  yet  the  bet- 
ter nature  had  the  stronger  hold. 

Well,  I can  spare  the  evening,”  said  the  school- 
master. I am  ready  to  walk  with  you.” 

Thank  you,  Mr.  Headstone.  And  I am  ready  to 
go.” 

Bradley  Headstone,  in  his  decent  black  coat  and 
waistcoat,  and  decent  white  shirt,  and  decent  formal 
black  tie,  and  decent  pantalopns  of  pepper  and  salt, 
with  his  decent  silver  watch  in  his  pocket  and  his 
decent  hair-guard  round  his  neck,  looked  a thoroughly 
decent  young  man  of  six-and-twenty.  He  was  never 
seen  in  any  other  dress,  and  yet  there  was  a certain 
stiffness  in  his  manner  of  wearing  this,  as  if  there  were 
a want  of  adaptation  between  him  and  it,  recalling 
some  mechanics  in  their  holiday  clothes.  He  had  ac- 
quired mechanically  a great  store  of  teacher  s knowl- 


230 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


edge.  He  could  do  mental  arithmetic  mechanically, 
sing  at  sight  mechanically,  blow  various  wind  instru- 
ments mechanically,  even  play  the  great  church  organ 
mechanically.  From  his  early  childhood  up,  his  mind 
had  been  a place  of  mechanical  stowage.  The  arrange- 
ment of  his  wholesale  warehouse,  so  that  it  might  be 
always  ready  to  meet  the  demands  of  retail  dealers — 
history  here,  geography  there,  astronomy  to  the  right, 
political  economy  to  the  left — natural  history,  the  phy- 
sical sciences,  figures,  music,  the  lower  mathematics, 
and  what  not,  all  in  their  several  places — this  care  had 
imparted  to  his  countenance  a look  of  care;  while  the 
habit  of  questioning  and  being  questioned  had  given 
him  a suspicious  manner,  or  a manner  that  would  be 
better  described  as  one  of  lying  in  wait.  There  was  a 
kind  of  settled  trouble  in  the  face.  It  was  the  face 
belonging  to  a naturally  slow  or  inattentive  intellect 
that  had  toiled  hard  to  get  what  it  had  won,  and  that 
had  to  hold  it  now  that  it  was  gotten.  He  always 
seemed  to  be  uneasy  lest  anything  should  be  missing 
from  his  mental  warehouse,  and  taking  stock  to  assure 
himself. 

Suppression  of  so  much  to  make  room  for  so  much, 
had  given  him  a constrained  manner,  over  and  above. 
Yet  there  was  enough  of  what  was  animal,  and  of  what 
was  fiery  (though  smouldering),  still  visible  in  him, 
to  suggest  that  if  young  Bradley  Headstone,  when  a 
pauper  lad,  had  chanced  to  be  told  off  for  the  sea,  he 
would  not  have  been  the  last  man  in  a ship’s  crew.  Re- 
garding that  origin  of  his,  he  was  proud,  moody,  and 
sullen,  desiring  it  to  be  forgotten.  And  few  people 
knew  of  it. 

In  some  visits  to  the  Jumble  his  attention  had  been 
attracted  to  this  boy  Hexam.  An  undeniable  boy  for 
a pupil-teacher  ; an  undeniable  boy  to  do  credit  to  the 
master  who  should  bring  him  on.  Combined  with  this 
consideration,  there  may  have  been  some  thought  of  the 
pauper  lad  now  never  to  be  mentioned.  Be  that  how  it 
might,  he  had  with  pains  gradually  worked  the  boy 
into  his  own  school,  and  procured  him  some  offices  to  dis- 
charge there,  which  were  repaid  with  food  and  lodging. 
Such  were  the  circumstances  that  had  brought  together 
Bradley  Headstone  and  young  Charley  Hexam  that 
autumn  evening.  Autumn,  because  full  half  a year 


OF  AN  EDUCATIONAL  CHARACTER. 


231 


had  come  and  gone  since  the  bird  of  prey  lay  dead 
upon  the  river-shore. 

The  schools — for  they  were  two-fold,  as  the  sexes — 
were  down  in  that  district  of  the  flat  country  tending 
to  the  Thames,  where  Kent  and  Surrey  meet,  and  where 
the  railways  still  bestride  the  market-gardens  that  will 
soon  die  under  them.  The  schools  were  newly  built, 
and  there  were  so  many  like  them  all  over  the  country, 
that  one  might  have  thought  the  whole  were  but  one  rest- 
less ediflce  with  the  locomotive  gift  of  Aladdin’s  palace. 
They  were  in  a neighbourhood  which  looked  like  a toy 
neighbourhood  taken  in  blocks  out  of  a box  by  a child 
of  particularly  incoherent  mind,  and  set  up  anyhow  ; 
here,  one  side  of  a new  street  ; there  a large  solitary 
public  -house  facing  nowhere  ; here,  another  unfinished 
street  already  in  ruins  ; there,  a church  ; here,  an  im- 
mense new  warehouse  ; there,  a dilapidated  old  country 
villa  ; then,  a medley  of  black  ditch,  sparkling  cucum- 
ber-frame, rank  field,  richly  cultivated  kitchen-garden, 
brick  viaduct,  arch-spanned  canal,  and  disorder  of 
frowziness  and  fog.  As  if  the  child  had  given  the  table 
a kick,  and  gone  to  sleep. 

But,  even  among  school-buildings,  school-teachers, 
and  school-pupils,  all  according  to  pattern,  and  all  en- 
gendered in  the  light  of  the  latest  Gospel  according  to 
Monotony,  the  older  pattern  into  which  so  many  for- 
tunes have  been  shaped  for  good  and  evil,  comes  out.  It 
came  out  in  Miss  Peecher  the  schoolmistress,  watering 
her  flovrers,  as  Mr.  Bradley  Headstone  walked  forth.  It 
came  out  in  Miss  Peecher  the  schoolmistress,  watering 
the  flowers  in  the  little  dusty  bit  of  garden  attached  to 
her  small  official  residence,  with  little  windows  like  the 
eyes  in  needles,  and  little  doors  like  the  covers  of  school- 
books. 

Small,  shining,  neat,  methodical,  and  buxom  was  Miss 
Peecher;  cherry-cheeked  and  tuneful  of  voice.  A little 
pincushion,  a little  housewife,  a little  book,  a little 
work-box,  a little  set  of  tables  and  weights  and 
measures,  and  a little  woman,  all  in  one.  She  could 
write  a little  essay  on  any  subject,  exactly  a slate  long, 
beginning  at  the  left-hand  top  of  one  side  and  ending 
at  the  right-hand  bottom  of  the  other,  and  the  essay 
should  be  strictly  according  to  rule.  If  Mr.  Bradley 
Headstone  had  addressed  a written  proposal  of  marriage 


232 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


to  her,  she  would  probably  have  replied  in  a complete 
little  essay  on  the  theme  exactly  a slate  long,  but  would 
certainly  have  replied  Yes.  For  she  loved  him.  The 
decent  hair-guard  that  went  round  his  neck  and  took 
care  of  his  decent  silver  watch  was  an  object  of  envy 
to  her.  So  would  Miss  Peecher  have  gone  round  his 
neck  and  taken  care  of  him.  Of  him,  insensible.  Be- 
cause he  did  not  love  Miss  Peecher. 

Miss  PeecheFs  favourite  pupil, Avho  assisted  her  in  her 
little  household,  was  in  attendance  with  a can  of  water 
to  replenish  her  little  watering-pot,  and  sufficiently  di- 
vined the  state  of  Miss  Peecher’s  affections  to  feel  it 
necessary  that  she  herself  should  love  young  Charley 
Hexam.  So,  there  was  a double  palpitation  among  the 
double  stocks  and  dauble  wall-flowers,  when  the  master 
and  the  boy  looked  over  the  little  gate. 

A fine  evening.  Miss  Peecher,’"  said  the  Master. 

A very  fine  evening,  Mr.  Headstone,”  said  Miss 
Peecher.  Are  you  taking  a walk  ?” 

Hexam  and  I are  going  to  take  a long  walk.” 

Charming  weather,”  remarked  Miss  Peecher,  /ora 
long  walk.” 

Ours  is.  rather  on  business  than  mere  pleasure,”  said 
the  Master. 

Miss  Peecher,  inverting  her  watering-pot,  and  very 
carefully  shaking  out  the  few  last  drops  over  a flower, 
as  if  there  were  some  special  virtue  in  them  which 
would  make  it  a Jack’s  beanstalk  before  morning,  called 
for  replenishment  to  her  pupil,  who  had  been  speaking 
to  the  boy. 

Good-night,  Miss  Peecher,”  said  the  Master. 

Good-night,  Mr.  Headstone,”  said  the  Mistress. 

The  pupil  had  been,  in  her  state  of  pupilage,  so  im- 
bued with  the  class-custom  of  stretching  out  an  arm,  as 
if  to  hail  a cab  or  omnibus,  whenever  she  found  she  had 
an  observation  on  hand  to  offer  to  Miss  Peecher,  that  she 
often  did  it  in  their  domestic  relations ; and  she  did 
it  now. 

'AVell,  Mary  Anne  ?”  said  Miss  Peecher. 

'Hf  you  please,  ma’am,  Hexam  said  they  were  going 
to  see  his  sister.” 

But  that  can’t  be,  I think,  returned  Miss  Peecher: 

because  Mr.  Headstone  can  have  no  business  with 
/icr.” 


OF  AN  EDUCATIONAL  CHARACTER.  233 


Mary  Anne  again  hriled. 

Well,  Mary  Anne 

If  you  please,  ma’am,  perhaps  it’s  Hexam’s  business.’’ 

That  may  be,”  said  Miss  Peecher.  I didn’t  think  of 
that.  Not  that  it  matters  at  all.” 

Mary  Anne  again  hailed. 

Well,  Mary  Anne  ?” 

They  say  she’s  very  handsome.” 

^^Oh,  Mary  Anne,  Mary  Anne  !”  returned  Miss 
Peecher,  slightly  colouring  and  shaking  her  head,  a 
little  out  of  humour  ; how  often  have  I told  you  not  to 
use  that  vague  expression,  not  to  speak  in  that  general 
way  ? When  you  say,  they  say,  what  do  you  mean  ? 
Part  of  speech  They  ? ” 

Mary  Ann  hooked  her  right  arm  behind  her  in  her 
left  hand,  as  being  under  examination,  and  replied  : 

Personal  pronoun,” 

Person  They  ?” 

Third  person.” 

Number,  They  ?” 

Plural  number.” 

Then  how  many  do  you  mean,  Mary  Anne  ? Two  ? 
Or  more  ? ” 

I beg  your  pardon,  ma’am,”  said  Mary  Anne,  discon- 
certed now  she  came  to  think  of  it  ; but  I don’t  know 
that  I m^an  more  than  her  brother  himself.”  As  she 
said  it,  she  unhooked  her  arm. 

felt  convinced  of  it,”  returned  Miss  Peecher,  smil- 
ing again.  Now  pray,  Mary  Anne,  be  careful  another 
time.  He  says  is  very  different  from  they  say,  remem- 
ber. Difference  between  he  says  and  they  say  ? Give 
it  me.” 

Mary  Anne  immediately  hooked  her  right  arm  behind 
her  in  her  left  hand — an  attitude  absolutely  necessary 
to  the  situation — and  replied  : One  is  indicative  mood, 
present  tense,  third  person  singular,  verb  active  to  say. 
Other  is  indicative  mood,  present  tense,  third  person 
plural,  verb  active  to  say.” 

Why  verb  active,  Mary  Anne  ?” 

Because  it  takes  a pronoun  after  it  in  the  objective 
case.  Miss  Peecher.” 

Very  good,  indeed,”  remarked  Miss  Peecher,  with 
encouragement.  In  fact,  could  not  be  better.  Don’t 
forget  to  apply  it  another  time,  Mary  Anne.”  This 


234 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


said,  Miss  Peecher  finished  the  watering  of  her  flowers, 
and  went  into  her  little  official  residence,  and  took  a 
refresher  of  the  principal  rivers  and  mountains  of  the 
world,  their  breadths,  depths,  and  heights,  before  set- 
tling the  measurements  of  the  body  of  a dress  for  their 
own  personal  occupation. 

Bradley  Headstone  and  Charley  Hexam  duly  got  to 
the  Surrey  side  of  W estminster  Bridge,  and  crossed  the 
bridge,  and  made  along  the  Middlesex  shore  towards 
Millbank.  In  this  region  are  a certain  little  street, 
called  Church  Street,  and  a certain  little  blind  square, 
called  Smith  Square,  in  the  centre  of  which  last  retreat 
is  a very  hideous  church  with  four  towers  at  the  four 
corners,  generally  resembling  some  petrified  monster, 
frightful  and  gigantic,  on  its  back  with  its  legs  in  the 
air.  They  found  a tree  near  by  in  a corner,  and  a 
blacksmith’s  forge,  and  a timber  yard,  and  a dealer’s  in 
old  iron.  What  a rusty  portion  of  a boiler  and  a great 
iron  wheel  or  so  meant  by  lying  half  buried  in  the 
dealer  s fore-court,  nobody  seemed  to  know  or  to  want 
to  know.  Like  the  Miller  of  questionable  jollity  in  the 
song,  They  cared  for  nobody,  no  not  they,  and  Nobody 
cared  for  them. 

After  making  the  round  of  this  place,  and  noting  that 
there  was  a deadly  kind  of  repose  on  it,  more  as  though 
it  had  taken  laudanum  than  fallen  into  a natural  rest, 
they  stopped  at  the  point  where  the  street  and  the  square 
joined,  and  where  there  were  some  little  quiet  houses  in 
a row.  To  these  Charley  Hexam  finally  led  the  way, 
and  at  one  of  these  stopped. 

^^This  must  be  where  my  sister  lives,  sir.  This  is 
where  she  came  for  a temporary  lodging,  soon  after 
father’s  death.” 

How  often  have  you  seen  her  since  ? ’’ 

'^Why,  only  twice,  sir,”  returned  the  boy,  with  his 
former  reluctance;  ^^but  that’s  as  much  her  doing  as 
mine.” 

''  How  does  she  support  herself  ?” 

‘^She  was  always  a fair  needlewoman,  and  she  keeps 
the  stock-room  of  a seaman’s  outfitter.” 

Does  she  ever  vmrk  at  her  own  lodging  here  ?” 

Sometimes;  but  her  regular  hours  and  regular  occu- 
pation are  at  their  place  of  business,  I believe,  sir.  This 
is  the  number.” 


OF  AN  EDUCATIONAL  CHARACTER.  2do 


The  boy  knocked  at  a door,  and  the  door  promptly 
opened  with  a spring  and  a click.  A parlour  door  within 
a small  entry  stood  open,  and  disclosed  a child — a dwarf 
— a girl — a something — sitting  on  a little  low  old-fashion- 
ed arm-chair,  which  had  a kind  of  little  working  bench 
before  it. 

can’t  get  up,”  said  the  child,  ^‘because  my  back’s 
bad,  and  my  legs  are  queer.  But  I’m  the  person  of  the 
house.” 

''Who  else  is  at  home?  ” asked  Charley  Hexam, staring. 

"Nobody’s  at  home  at  present,”  returned  the  child, 
with  a glib  assertion  of  her  dignity,  " except  the  person 
of  the  house.  What  did  you  want,  young  man  ? ” 

" I wanted  to  see  my  sister.” 

♦ " Many  young  men  have  sisters,”  returned  the  child. 

" Give  me  your  name,  young  man  ?” 

The  queer  little  figure,  and  the  queer  but  not  ugly  lit- 
tle face,  with  its  bright  grey  eyes,  were  so  sharp,  that 
the  sharpness  of  the  manner  seemed  unavoidable.  As 
if,  being  turned  out  of  that  mould,  it  must  be  sharp. 

" Hexam  is  my  name.” 

"Ah,  indeed?”  said  the  person  of  the  house.  "I 
thought  it  might  be.  Your  sister  will  be  in,  in  about  a 
quarter  of  an  hour.  I am  very  fond  of  your  sister.  She’s 
my  particular  friend.  Take  a seat.  And  this  gentle- 
man’s name  ? ” 

"Mr.  Headstone,  my  schoolmaster.” 

"Take  a seat.  And  would  you  please  to  shut  the 
street  door  first  ? I can’t  very  well  do  it  myself,  because 
my  back’s  so  bad,  and  my  legs  are  so  queer.” 

They  complied  in  silence,  and  the  little  figure  went  on 
with  its  work  of  gumming  or  gluing  together  with  a 
camel’s-hair  brush  certain  pieces  of  cardboard  and  thin 
wood,  previously  cut  into  various  shapes.  The  scissors 
and  knives  upon  the  bench  showed  that  the  child  her- 
self had  cut  them  ; and  the  bright  scraps  of  velvet  and 
silk  and  ribbon  also  strewn  upon  the  bench  showed  that 
when  duly  stuffed  (and  stuffing  too  was  there),  she  was 
to  cover  them  smartly.  The  dexterity  of  her  nimble 
fingers  was  remarkable,  and,  as  she  brought  two  thin 
edges  accurately  together  by  giving  them  a little  bite, 
she  would  glance  at  the  visitors  out  of  the  corners  of 
her  grey  eyes  with  a look  that  out-sharpened  all  her 
other  sharpness. 


236 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


^'You  caiTt  tell  me  the  name  of  my  trade,  Fll  be 
bound/’  she  said,  after  taking  several  of  these  observa- 
tions. 

You  make  pincushions,”  said  Charley. 

What  else  do  I make  ?” 

Pen-wipers,”  said  Bradley  Headstone. 

Ha  ! ha  ! What  else  do  I make  ? You’re  a school- 
master, but  you  can’t  tell  me.” 

^Wou  do  something,”  he  returned,  pointing  to  a cor- 
ner of  the  little  bench,  with  straw ; but  I don’t  know 
what.” 

Well  done  you  ! ” cried  the  person  of  the  house.  I 
only  make  pincushions  and  pen-wipers,  to  use  up  my 
waste.  But  my  straw  really  does  belong  to  my  busi- 
ness. Try  again.  What  do  I make  with  my  straw  ? ” 

Dinner-mats  ?” 

schoolmaster,  and  says  dinner-mats!  I’ll  give 
you  a clue  to  my  trade,  in  a game  of  forfeits.  I love 
my  love  with  a B because  she’s  Beautiful;  I hate  my 
love  with  a B because  she  is  Brazen;  I took  her  to  the 
sign  of  the  Blue  Boar,  and  I treated  her  with  Bonnets; 
her  name’s  Bouncer,  and  she  lives  in  Bedlam. — Now, 
what  do  I make  with  my  straw?” 

Ladies’  bonnets?  ” 

‘^Fine  ladies’,”  said  the  person  of  the  house,  nodding% 
assent.  Dolls’.  I’m  a Doll’s  Dressmaker.” 

^'I  hope  it’s  a good  business?” 

The  person  of  the  house  shrugged  her  shoulders  and 
shook  her  head.  No.  Poorly  paid.  And  I’m  often  so 
pressed  for  time!  I had  a doll  married,  last  week,  and 
was  obliged  to  work  all  night.  And  it’s  not  good  for 
me,  on  account  of  my  back  being  so  bad  and  my  legs  so 
queer.” 

They  looked  at  the  little  creature  with  a wonder  that 
did  not  diminish,  and  the  schoolmaster  said:  ^^I  am 
sorry  your  fine  ladies  are  so  inconsiderate.” 

It’s  the  way  with  them,”  said  the  person  of  the  house, 
shrugging  her  shoulders  again.  ^^And  they  take  no  care 
of  their  clothes,  and  they  never  keep  to  the  same  fash- 
ions a month.  I work  for  a doll  with  three  daughters. 
Bless  you,  she’s  enough  to  ruin  her  husband!” 

The  person*  of  the  house  gave  a weird  little  laugh  here, 
and  gave  them  another  look  out  of  the  corners  of  her 
eyes.  She  had  an  elfin  chin  that  was  capable  of  great 


OF  AN  EDUCATIONAL  CHARACTER  237* 


expression;  and  whenever  she  gave  this  look,  she  hitched 
this  chin  up.  As  if  her  eyes  ai^id  her  chin  worked  to- 
gether on  the  same  wires. 

Are  you  always  as  busy  as  you  are  now?” 

'^Busier.  Tm  slack  just  now.  I finished  a large 
mourning  order  the  day  before  yesterday.  Doll  I work 
for  lost  a canary  bird.”  The  person  of  the  house  gave 
another  little  laugh,  and  then  nodded  her  head  several 
times,  as  who  should  moralize,  ^'Oh,  this  world,  this 
world!” 

Are  you  alone  all  day?  ” asked  Bradley  Headstone. 

Don’t  any  of  the  neighbouring  children ?” 

Ah,  lud  ! ” cried  the  person  of  the  house,  with  a little 
scream,  as  if  the  word  had  pricked  her.  Don’t  talk  of 
children.  I can’t  bear  children.  I know  their  tricks  and 
their  manners.”  She  said  this  with  an  angry  little  shake 
of  her  right  fist  close  before  her  eyes. 

Perhaps  it  scarcely  required  the  teacher-habit,  to  per- 
ceive that  the  doll’s  dressmaker  was  inclined  to  be 
bitter  on  the  difference  between  herself  and  other 
children.  But  both  master  and  pupil  understood  it 
so. 


Always  running  about  and  screeching,  always  play- 
ing and  fighting,  always  skip-skip-skipping  on  the 
pavement  and  chalking  it  for  their  games  ! Oh  I know 
their  tricks  and  their  manners  ! ” Shaking  the  little 
fist  as  before.  And  that’s  not  all.  Ever  so  often 
calling  names  in  through  a person’s  keyhole,  and  imita- 
ting a person’s  back  and  legs.  Oh  ! I know  their  tricks 
and  their  manners.  And  I’ll  tell  you  what  I’d  do,  to 
punish  ’em.  There’s  doors  under  the  church  in  the 
Square — black  doors,  leading  into  black  vaults.  Well  ! 
I’d  open  one  of  those  doors,  and  I’d  cram  ’em  all  in,  and 
then  I’d  lock  the  door  and  through  the  keyhole  I’d  blow 
in  pepper.” 

^^What  would  be  the  good  of  blowing  in  pep- 
per ? ” asked  Charley  Hexam. 

To  set  ’em  sneezing,”  said  the  person  of  the  house, 
and  make  their  eyes  water.  And  when  they  were  all 
sneezing  and  inflamed,  I’d  mock  ’em  through  the  key- 
hole. Just  as  they,  with  their  tricks  and  their 
manners,  mock  a person  through  a person’s  keyhole  I ” 
An  uncommonly  emphatic  shake  of  her  little  fist 
close  before  her  eyes,  seemed  to  ease  the  mind  of  the 


238 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


person  of  the  house  ; for  she  added  with  recovered  com- 
posure, ^'No,  no,  no.  No  children  for  me.  Give  me 
grown-ups.’’ 

It  was  difficult  to  guess  the  age  of  this  strange  creat- 
ure, for  her  poor  figure  furnished  no  clue  to  it,  and  her 
face  was  at  once  so  young  and  so  old.  Twelve,  or  at 
the  most  thirteen,  might  be  near  the  mark. 

I always  did  like  grown-ups,”  she  went  on,  '‘and 
always  kept  company  with  them.  So  sensible.  Sit  so 
quiet.  Don’t  go  prancing  and  capering  about ! And  I 
mean  always  to  keep  among  none  but  grown-ups  till  I 
marry.  I suppose  I must  make  up  my  mind  to  marry 
one  of  these  days.” 

She  listened  to  a step  outside  that  caught  her  ear,  and 
there  was  a soft  knock  at  the  door.  Pulling  at  a handle 
within  her  reach,  she  said,  with  a pleased  laugh : 
"Now  here,  for  instance,  is  a grown-up  that’s  my  par- 
ticular friend  ! ” and  Lizzie  Hexam  in  a black  dress 
entered  the  room. 

" Charley  ! You  !” 

Taking  him  to  her  arms  in  the  old  way — of  which  he 
seemed  a little  ashamed — she  saw  no  one  else. 

"There,  there,  there,  Liz,  all  right  my  dear.  See! 
Here’s  Mr.  Headstone  come  with  me.” 

Her  eyes  met  those  of  the  schoolmaster,  who  had  evi- 
dently expected  to  see  a very  different  sort  of  person, 
and  a murmured  word  or  two  of  salutation  passed  be- 
tween them.  She  was  a little  flurried  by  the  unexpected 
visit,  and  the  schoolmaster  was  not  at  his  ease.  But  he 
never  was,  quite. 

" I told  Mr.  Headstone  you  were  not  settled,  Liz,  but 
he  was  so  kind  as  to  take  an  interest  in  coming,  and  so 
I brought  him.  How  well  you  look!  ” 

Bradley  seemed  to  think  so. 

"Ah!  Don’t  she,  don’t  she?”  cried  the  person  of  the 
house,  resuming  her  occupation,  though  the  twilight  was 
falling  fast.  " I believe  you  she  does!  But  go  on  with 
your  chat,  one  and  all: 

‘ You  one,  two,  three. 

My  com-pa-nie. 

And  don’t  mind  me.’  ” 

— pointing  this  impromptu  rhyme  with  three  points  of 
her  thin  forefinger. 

" I didn’t  expect  a visit  from  you,  Charley,”  said  his 


OF  AN  EDUCATIONAL  CHARACTER.  239 


sister.  I supposed  that  if  you  wanted  to  see  me  you 
would  have  sent  to  me,  appointing  me  to  come  some- 
where near  the  school,  as  I did  last  time.  I saw  my 
brother  near  the  school,  sir,”  to  Bradley  Headstone, 

because  it’s  easier  for  me  to  go  there,  than  for  him  to 
come  here.  I work  about  midway  between  the  two 
places.” 

You  don’t  see  much  of  one  another,”  said  Bradley, 
not  improving  in  respect  of  ease. 

^^No.”  With  a rather  sad  shake  of  her  head.  Char- 
ley always  does  well,  Mr.  Headstone?” 

He  could  not  do  better.  I regard  his  course  as  quite 
plain  before  him.” 

I hoped  so.  I am  so  thankful.  So,  well  done  of  you, 
Charley,  dear!  It  is  better  for  me  not  to  come  (except 
when  he  wants  me)  between  him  and  his  prospects.  You 
think  so,  Mr.  Headstone?” 

Conscious  that  his  pupil-teacher  was  looking  for  his 
answer,  and  that  he  himself  had  suggested  the  boy’s 
keeping  aloof  from  this  sister,  now  seen  for  the  first 
time  face  to  face,  Bradley  Headstone  stammered: 

'Wour  brother  is  very  much  occupied,  you  know. 
He  has  to  work  hard.  One  cannot  but  say  that  the  less 
his  attention  is  diverted  from  his  work,  the  better  for 
his  future.  When  he  shall  have  established  himself, 
why,  then — it  will  be  another  thing  then.” 

Lizzie  shook  her  head  again,  and  returned,  with  a 
quiet  smile  : I always  advised  him  as  you  advise  him. 
Did  I not,  Charley  ? ” 

Well,  never  mind  that  now,”  said  the  boy.  How 
are  you  getting  on  ? ” 

Very  well,  Charley.  I want  for  nothing.” 

^Wou  have  your  own  room  here  ?” 

'^Oh,  yes.  Upstairs.  And  it’s  quiet,  and  pleasant, 
and  airy.” 

^'And  she  always  has  the  use  of  this  room  for  vis- 
itors,” said  the  person  of  the  house,  screwing  up  one  of 
her  little  bony  fists,  like  an  opera-glass,  and  looking 
through  it,  with  her  eyes  and  her  chin  in  that  quaint 
accordance.  ‘^Always  this  room  for  visitors  ; haven’t 
you,  Lizzie  dear  ?” 

It  happened  that  Bradley  Headstone  noticed  a very 
slight  action  of  Lizzie  Hexam’s  hand,  as  though  it 
checked  the  doll’s  dressmaker.  And  it  happened  that 


240 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


the  latter  noticed  him  in  the  same  instant ; for  she  made 
a double  eyeglass  of  her  two  hands,  looked  at  him 
through  it,  and  cried,  with  a waggish  shake  of  her 
head  : Aha  ! Caught  you  spying,  did  I ? 

It  might  have  fallen  out  so,  any  way  ; but  Bradley 
Headstone  also  noticed  that  immediately  after  this, 
Lizzie,  who  had  not  taken  off  her  bonnet,  rather  hur- 
riedly proposed  that  as  the  room  was  getting  dark  they 
should  go  out  into  the  air.  They  went  out ; the  visitors 
saying  good-night  to  the  doll’s  dressmaker,  whom  they 
left,  leaning  back  in  her  chair  with  her  arms  crossed, 
singing  to  herself  in  a sweet,  thoughtful  little  voice. 

ril  saunter  on  by  the  river,”  said  Bradley.  ^^You 
will  be  glad  to  talk  together.” 

As  his  uneasy  figure  went  on  before  them  among  the 
evening  shadows,  the  boy  said  to  his  sister,  petulantly  : 

^^When  are  you  going  to  settle  yourself  in  some 
Christian  sort  of  place,  Liz  ? I thought  you  were  going 
to  do  it  before  now,” 

I am  very  well  where  I am,  Charley.” 

Very  well  where  you  are  ! I am  ashamed  to  have 
brought  Mr.  Headstone  with  me.  How  came  you  to  get 
into  such  company  as  that  little  witch’s  ? ” 

^^By  chance  at  first,  as  it  seemed,  Charley.  But  I 
think  it  must  have  been  by  something  more  than  chance, 

for  that  child You  remember  the  bills  upon  the  walls 

at  home  ? ” 

Confound  the  bills  upon  the  walls  at  home  ! I want 
to  forget  the  bills  upon  tne  walls  at  home,  and  it  would 
be  better  for  you  to  do  the  same.”  grumbled  the  boy. 

Well ; what  of  them.” 

^^This  child  is  the  grandchild  of  the  old  man.” 

What  old  man  ? ” 

^^The  terrible  drunken  old  man,  in  the  list  slippers 
and  the  nightcap.” 

The  boy  asked,  rubbing  his  nose  in  a manner  that 
half  expressed  vexation  at  hearing  so  much,  and  half 
curiosity  to  hear  more  : How  came  you  to  make  that 
out  ? What  a girl  you  are  ! ” 

The  child’s  father  is  employed  by  the  house  that  em- 
ploys me  ; that’s  how  I come  to  know  it,  Charley.  The 
father  is  like  his  own  father,  a weak,  wretched,  tremb- 
ling creature,  falling  to  pieces,  never  sober.  But  a good 
workman  too,  at  the  work  he  does.  The  mother  is  dead. 


OF  AN  EDUCATIONAL  CHARACTER.  241 

This  poor  ailing  little  creature  has  come  to  be  what  she 
is,  surrounded  by  drunken  people  from  her  cradle — if 
she  ever  had  one, i Charley.’’ 

‘^1  don’t  see  what  you  have  to  do  with  her,  for  all 
that,”  said  the  boy. 

''Don’t  you,  Charley  ?” 

The  boy  looked  doggedly  at  the  river.  They  were  at 
Millbank,  and  the  river  rolled  on  their  left.  His  sister 
gently  touched  him  on  the  shoulder,  and  pointed 
to  it. 

"Any  compensation  — restitution  — never  mind  the 
word,  you  know  my  meaning.  Father’s  grave.” 

But  he  did  not  respond  with  any  tenderness.  After  a 
moody  silence  he  broke  out  in  an  ill-used  tone  : 

" It’ll  be  a very  hard  thing,  Liz,  if,  when  I am  trying 
my  best  to  get  up  in  the  world,  you  pull  me  back.” 

"I  Charley?” 

"Yes,  you,  Liz.  Why  can’t  you  let  bygones  be  by- 
gones ? Why  can’t  you,  as  Mr.  Headstone  said  to  me 
this  very  evening  about  another  matter,  leave  well 
alone  ? What  we  have  got  to  do,  is  to  turn  our  faces 
full  in  our  new  direction,  and  keep  straight  on.” 

" And  never  look  back  ? Not  ^ven  to  try  to  make 
some  amends  ? ” 

"You  are  such  a dreamer,”  said  the  boy  with  his 
former  petulance.  "It  was  all  very  well  when  we  sat 
before  the  fire — when  we  looked  into  the  hollow  down 
by  the  flare — but  we  are  looking  into  the  real  world 
now.” 

"Ah,  we  were  looking  into  the  real  world  then 
Charley  ! ” 

" I understand  what  you  mean  by  that,  but  you  are 
not  justified  in  it.  I don’t  want,  a-s  I raise  myself,  to 
shake  you  off,  Liz.  I want  to  carry  you  up  with  me. 
That’s  what  I want  to  do,  and  mean  to  do.  I know 
what  I owe  you.  I said  to  Mr.  Headstone  this  very 
evening,  ' After  all,  my  sister  got  me  here.’  Well,  then. 
Don’t  pull  me  back,  and  hold  me  down.  That’S  all  I 
ask,  and  surely  that’s  not  unconscionable.” 

She  had  kept  a steadfast  look  upon  him,  and  she 
answered  with  composure  : 

" I am  not  here  selfishly,  Charley.  To  please  myself, 
I could  not  be  too  far  from  that  river.” 

"Nor  could  you  be  too  far  from  it  to  please  me.  Let 
VOL.  I.  IG 


U2 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


us  get  quit  of  it  equally.  Why  should  you  linger  about 
it  any  more  than  I ? I give  it  a wide  berth.'’’ 

I can’t  get  away  from  it,  I think  ” said  Lizzie,  pass- 
ing her  hand  across  her  forehead.  ^^It’s  no  purpose  of 
mine  that  I live  by  it  still.”  * 

There  you  go,  Liz  ! Dreaming  again  ! You  lodge 
yourself  of  your  own  accord  in  a house  with  a drunken 
— tailor,  I suppose — or  something  of  the  sort,  and  a little 
crooked  antic  of  a child,  or  old  person,  or  whatever  it 
is,  and  then  you  talk  as  if  you  were  drawn  or  driven 
there.  Now,  do  be  more  practical.” 

She  had  been  practical  enough  with  him,  in  suffering 
and  striving  for  him  ; but  she  only  laid  her  hand  upon 
his  shoulder — not  reproachfully — and  tapped  it  twice  or 
thrice.  She  had  been  used  to  do  so,  to  soothe  him  when 
she  carried  him  about,  a child  as  heavy  as  herself. 
Tears  started  to  his  eyes. 

^^Upon  my  word,  Liz,”  drawing  the  hack  of  his  hand 
across  them,  I mean  to  be  a good  brother  to  you,  and 
to  prove  that  I know  what  I owe  you.  All  I say  is,  that 
I hope  you’ll  control  your  fancies  a little,  on  my  account. 
I’ll  get  a school,  and  then  you  must  come  and  live  with 
me,  and  you’ll  have  to  control  your  fancies  then,  so  why 
not  now  ? Now,  say  I haven’t  vexed  you.” 

‘'You  haven’t  Charley,  you  haven’t.” 

“ And  say  I haven’t  hurt  you.” 

“You  haven’t,  Charley.”  But  this  answer  was  less 
ready. 

“ Say  you  are  sure  I didn’t  mean  to.  Come  ! There’s 
Mr.  Headstone  stopping,  and  looking  over  the  wall  at 
the  tide,  to  hint  that  it’s  time  to  go.  Kiss  me,  and  tell 
me  that  you  know  I didn’t  mean  to  hurt  you.” 

She  told  him  so,  and  they  embraced,  and  walked  on 
and  came  up  with  the  schoolmaster. 

“ But  we  go  your  sister’s  way,”  he  remarked,  when 
the  boy  told  him  he  was  ready.  And  with  his  cumbrous 
and  uneasy  action  he  stiffly  offered  her  his  arm.  Her 
hand  was  just  within  it,  when  she  drew  it  back.  He 
looked  round  with  a start,  as  if  he  thought  she  had  de- 
tected something  that  repelled  her,  in  the  momentary 
touch. 

“I  will  not  go  in  just  yet,”  said  Lizzie.  “And  you 
have  a distance  before  you,  and  will  walk  faster  with- 
out me.” 


OF  AN  EDUCATIONAL  CHARACTER. 


243 


Being  by  this  time  close  to  Vauxhall  Bridge,  they  re- 
solved, in  consequence,  to  take  that  way  over  the 
Thames,  and  they  left  her ; Bradley  Headstone  giving 
her  his  hand  at  parting,  and  she  thanking  him  for  his 
care  of  her  brother. 

The  master  and  the  pupil  walked  on,  rapidly  and 
silently.  They  had  nearly  crossed  the  bridge,  when  a 
gentleman  came  coolly  sauntering  towards  them,  with 
a cigar  in  his  mouth,  his  coat  thrown  back,  and  his 
hands  behind  him.  Something  in  the  careless  manner 
of  this  person,  and  in  a certain  lazily  arrogant  air  with 
which  he  approached,  holding  possession  of  twice  as 
much  pavement  as  another  would  have  claimed,  in- 
stantly caught  the  boy’s  attention.  As  the  gentleman 
passed,  the  boy  looked  at  him  narrowly,  and  then  stood 
still,  looking  after  him. 

“ Who  is  it  that  you  stare  after  ?”  asked  Bradley. 

“Why  !”  said  the  boy,  with  a confused  and  ponder- 
ing frown  upon  his  face,  “ It  is  that  Wrayburn 
one  ! ” 

Bradley  Headstone  scrutinized  the  boy  as  closely  as 
the  boy  had  scrutinized  the  gentleman. 

“ I beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Headstone,  but  I couldn’t 
help  wondering  what  in  the  world  brought  him  here  !” 

Though  he  said  it  as  if  his  wonder  were  past — at  the 
same  time  resuming  the  walk— it  was  not  lost  upon  the 
master  that  he  looked  over  his  shoulder  after  speaking, 
and  that  same  perplexed  and  pondering  frown  was 
heavy  on  his  face. 

“You  don’t  appear  to  like  your  friend,  Hexam  ?” 

“I  don’t  like  him,”  said  the  boy. 

“Why  not?” 

“ He  took  hold  of  me  by  the  chin  in  a precious  imper- 
tinent way,'  the  first  time  I ever  saw  him,”  said  the  boy. 

“ Again,  why  ? ” 

“ For  nothing.  Or— it’s  much  the  same— because  some- 
thing I happened  to  say  about  my  sister  didn’t  happen 
to  please  him.” 

“ Then  he  knows  your  sister  ? ” 

“ He  didn’t  at  that  time,”  said  the  boy,  still  moodily 
pondering. 

“Does  now?” 

The  boy  had  so  lost  himself  that  he  looked  at  Mr. 
Bradley  Headstone  as  they  walked  on  side  by  side,  with- 


244 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


out  attempting  to  reply  until  the  question  had  been 
repeated  ; than  he  nodded  and  answered,  Yes,  sir.” 

Going  to  see  her,  I dare  say.” 

^'It  can’t  be!”  said  the  boy  quickly.  ^^He  doesn’t  know 
her  well  enough.  I should  like  to  catch  him  at  it ! ” 

When  they  had  walked  on  for  a time,  more  rapidly 
than  before,  the  master  said,  clasping  the  pupil’s  arm 
between  the  elbow  and  the  shoulder  with  his  hand  : 

^Wou  were  going  to  tell  me  something  about  that 
person.  What  did  you  say  his  name  was  ? ” 

''Wrayburn.  Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn.  He  is  what 
they  call  a barrister,  with  nothing  to  do.  The  first  time 
he  came  to  our  old  place  was  when  my  father  was  alive. 
He  came  on  business  ; not  that  it  was  his  business — he 
never  had  any  business — he  was  brought  by -a  friend 
of  his.” 

''And  the  other  times  ?” 

"There  was  only  one  other  time  that  I knov/  of. 
When  my  father  was  killed  by  accident,  he  chanced  to 
be  one  of  the  finders.  He  was  mooning  about  I suppose, 
taking  liberties  with  people’s  chins  ; but  there  he  was, 
somehow.  He  brought  the  news  home  to  my  sister  early 
in  the  morning,  and  brought  Miss  Abbey  Potterson,  a 
neighbour,  to  help  break  it  to  her.  He  was  mooning 
about  the  house  when  I was  fetched  home  in  the  after- 
noon— they  didn’t  know  where  to  find  me  till  my  sister 
could  be  brought  round  sufficiently  to  tell  them— and 
then  he  mooned  away.” 

" And  is  that  all? 

" That’s  all,  sir.” 

Bradley  Headstone  gradually  released  the  boy’s  arm, 
as  if  he  were  thoughtful,  and  they  walked  on  side  by 
side  as  before.  After  a long  silence  between  them, 
Bradley  resumed  the  talk. 

"I  suppose — your  sister ’’with  a curious  break 

both  before  and  after  the  words,  " has  received  hardly 
any  teaching,  Hexam?” 

"Hardly  any,  sir.” 

" Sacrificed,  no  doubt,  to  her  father’s  objections.  I 
remember  them  in  your  case.  Y et — your  sister — scarcely 
looks  or  speaks  like  an  ignorant  person.” 

" Lizzie  has  as  much  thought  as  the  best,  Mr.  Head- 
stone. Too  much,  perhaps,  without  teaching.  I used 
to  call  the  fire  at  home,  her  books,  for  she  was  always 


OF  AN  EDUCATIONAL  CHARACTER.  245 


full  of  fancies — sometimes  quite  wise  fancies,  consider- 
ing— when  she  sat  looking  at  it.” 

''  I don’t  like  that,”  said  Bradley  Headstone. 

His  pupil  was  a little  surprised  by  this  striking  in 
with  so  sudden  and  decided  and  emotional  an  objection, 
but  took  it  as  a proof  of  the  master’s  interest  in  himself. 
It  emboldened  him  to  say: 

I have  never  brought  myself  to  mention  it  openly 
to  you,  Mr.  Headstone,  and  you’re  my  witness  that  I 
couldn’t  even  make  up  my  mind  to  take  it  from  you 
before  we  came  out  to-night;  but  it’s  a painful  thing  to 
think  that  if  I get  on  as  well  as  you  hope,  I shall  be — I 
won’t  say  disgraced,  because  I don’t  mean  disgraced — 
but — rather  put  to  the  blush  if  it  was  known — by  a 
sister  who  has  been  very  good  to  me.” 

Yes,”  said  Bradley  Headstone  in  a slurring  way,  for 
his  mind  scarcely  seemed  to  touch  that  point,  so  smoothly 
did  it  glide  to  another,  and  there  is  this  possibility  to 
consider.  Some  man  who  had  worked  his  way  might 
come  to  admire — your  sister — and  might  even  in  time 
bring  himself  to  think  of  marrying — your  sister — and  it 
would  be  a sad  drawback  and  a heavy  penalty  upon  him, 
if,  overcoming  in  his  mind  other  inequalities  of  con- 
dition and  other  considerations  against  it,  this  inequality 
and  this  consideration  remained  in  full  force.” 

''That’s  much  my  own  meaning,  sir.” 

"Ay,  ay,”  said  Bradley  Headstone,  "but  you  spoke 
of  a mere  brother.  Now,  the  case  I have  supposed 
would  be  a much  stronger  case  ; because  an  admirer, 
a husband,  would  form  the  connexion  voluntarily,'  be- 
sides being  obliged  to  proclaim  it ; which  a brother  is 
not.  After  all,  you  know,  it  must  be  said  of  you  that 
you  couldn’t  help  yourself  ; while  it  would  be  said  of 
him,  with  equal  reason,  that  he  could.” 

"That’s  true,  sir.  Sometimes  since  Lizzie  was  left 
free  by  father’s  death,  I have  thought  that  such  a young 
woman  might  soon  acquire  more  than  enough  to  pass 
muster.  And  sometimes  I have  even  thought  that  per- 
haps Miss  Beecher ” 

"For  the  purpose,  I would  advise  Not  Miss  Beecher,” 
Bradley  Headstone  struck  in  with  a r^(!;urrence  of  his 
late  decision  of  manner. 

" Would  you  be  so  kind  as  to  think  of  it  for  me^  Mr. 
Headstone  ?” 


246 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


^‘Yes,  Hexam,  yes.  Til  think  of  it.  Til  think  ma- 
turely of  it.  ril  think  well  of  it.’’ 

Their  walk  was  almost  a silent  one  afterwards,  until 
it  ended  at  the  school-house.  There,  one  of  neat  Miss 
Peecher’s  little  windows,  like  the  eyes  in  needles,  was 
illuminated,  and  in  a corner  near  it  sat  Mary  Anne 
watching,  while  Miss  Peecher  at  the  table  stitched  at  the 
neat  little  body  she  was  making  up  by  browm  paper  pat- 
tern for  her  own  wearing.  N.  B.  Miss  Peecher  and 
Miss  Peecher’s  pupils  were  not  much  encouraged  in  the 
unscholastic  art  of  needlework,  by  Government. 

Mary  Anne  with  her  face  to  the  window,  held  her 
arm  up. 

Well,  Mary  Anne  ! ” 

Mr.  Headstone  coming  home,  ma’am.” 

In  about  a minute,  Mary  Anne  again  hailed. 

^Wes,  Mary  Anne?” 

Gone  in  and  locked  his  door,  ma’am.” 

Miss  Peecher  repressed  a sigh  as  she  gathered  her 
work  together  for  bed,  and  transfixed  that  part  of  her 
dress  where  her  heart  would  have  been  if  she  had  had 
the  dress  on,  with  a sharp,  sharp  needle. 


CHAPTER  H. 

STILL  EDUCATIONAL. 

The  person  of  the  house,  doll’s  dressmaker  and  man- 
ufacturer of  ornamental  pincushions  and  pen- wipers, 
sat  in  her  quaint  little  low  arm-chair,  singing  in  the 
dark,  until  Lizzie  came  back.  The  person  of  the  house 
had  attained  that  dignity  while  yet  of  very  tender  years 
indeed,  through  being  the  only  trustworthy  person  in 
the  house. 

Well  Lizzie-Mizzie-Wizzie,”  said  she,  breaking  off  in 
her  song.  What’s  the  news  out  of  doors?” 

What’s  the  news  in  doors?”  returned  Lizzie,  play- 
fully smoothing  the  bright  long  fair  hair  which  grew 
very  luxuriant  and  beautiful  on  the  head  of  the  doll’s 
dressmaker. 

Let  me  see,  said  the  blind  man.  Why  the  last  news 
is,  that  I don’t  mean  to  marry  your  brother.” 


STILL  EDUCATIONAL. 


24^ 


No-o/’  shaking  her  head  and  her  chin.  DonT  like 
the  boy.’^ 

What  do  you  say  to  his  master?  ” 

I say  that  I think  he’s  bespoke.” 

Lizzie  finished  putting  the  hair  carefully  back  over 
the  misshapen  shoulders,  and  then  lighted  a candle.  It 
showed  the  little  parlour  to  be  dingy,  but  orderly  and 
clean.  She  stood  it  on  the  mantelshelf,  remote  from  the 
dressmaker’s  eyes,  and  then  put^the  room  door  open, 
and  the  house  door  open,  and  turned  the  little  low  chair 
and  its  occupant  towards  the  outer  air.  It  was  a sultry 
night,  and  this  was  a fine-weather  arrangement  when 
the  day’s  work  was  done.  To  complete  it,  she  seated 
herself  in  a chair  by  the  side  of  the  little  chair,  and  pro- 
tectingly  drew  under  her  arm  the  spare  hand  that  crept 
up  to  her. 

^^This  is  what  your  loving  Jenny  Wren  calls  the  best 
time  in  the  day  and  night,”  said  the  person  of  the  house. 
Her  real  name  was  Fanny  Cleaver ; but  she  had  long 
ago  chosen*  to  bestow  upon  herself  the  application  of 
Miss  Jenny  Wren. 

“I  have  been  thinking,”  Jenny  went  on,“  as  I sat  at 
work  to-day,  what  a thing  it  would  be  if  I should  be 
able  to  have  your  company  till  I am  married,  or  at  least 
courted.  Because  when  I am  courted,  I shall  make  him 
do  some  of  the  things  that  you  do  for  me.  He  couldn’t 
brush  my  hair  like  you  do,  or  help  me  up  and  down 
stairs  like  you  do,  and  he  couldn’t  do  anything  like  you 
do ; but  he  could  take  my  work  home,  and  he  could  call 
for  orders  in  his  clumsy  way.  And  he  shall  too.  Vll 
trot  him  about,  I can  tell  him  ! ” 

Jenny  Wren  had  her  personal  vanities — happily  for 
her — and  no  intentions  were  stronger  in  her  breast  than 
the  various  trials  and  torments  that  were,  in  the  fulness 
of  time,  to  be  inflicted  upon  ^^him.” 

'^Wherever  he  nlay  happen  to  be  just  at  present,  or 
whoever  he  may  happen  to  be,”  said  Miss  Wren,  ^^I 
know  his  tricks  and  his  manners,  and  I give  him  warn- 
ing to  look  out.” 

Don’t  you  think  you  are  rather  hard  upon  him  ?” 
asked  her  friend,  smiling,  and  smoothing  her  hair. 

Not  a bit,”  replied  the  sage  Miss  Wren,  with  an  air 
of  vast  experience.  My  dear,  they  don’t  care  for  you, 


248  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

those  fellows,  if  you’re  not  hard  upon  ’em.  But  I was 
saying;  if  I should  be  able  to  have  your  company.  Ah  ! ■ 
What  a large  If  ! Ain’t  it  ?” 

“ I have  no  intention  of  parting  company,  Jenny. 

“ Don’t  say  that,  or  you’ll  go  directly.” 

“ Am  I so  little  to  be  relied  upon  ? ” f 

“You’re  more  to  he  relied  upon  than  silver  and  gold. 

As  she  said  it.  Miss  Wren  suddenly  broke  off,  screwed  i 
up  her  eyes  and  her^hin,  and  looked  prodigiously  know- 
ing, “ Aha ! 

“ Who  comes  here  ? 

“A  Grenadier.  i 

“What  does  he  want?  v 

“A  pot  of  heer. 


And  nothing  else  in  the  world,  my  dear. 

A man’s  figure  paused  on  the  pavement  at  the  outer 
door.  “Mr  Eugene  Wrayburn,  ain’t  it?”  said  Miss 
Wren. 

“ So  I am  told,”  was  the  answer. 

“ You  may  come  in,  if  you’re  good.’  • . 

“lam  not  good,”  said  Eugene,  “ but  1 11  come  in. 

He  gave  his  hand  to  Jenny  Wren,  and  he  gave  his 
hand  to  Lizzie,  and  he  stood  leaning  by  the  door  at 
Lizzie’s  side.  He  had  been  strolling  with  his  cigar,  h« 
said  (it  was  smoked  out  and  gone  by  this  time),  and  he 
had  krolled  round  to  return  in  that  direction  that  he 
might  look  in  as  he  passed.  Had  she  not  seen  her 

brother  to-night  ? „ n++io 

“ Yes,”  said  Lizzie,  whose  manner  was  a little 

Gracious  condescension  on  our  brother’s  part!  Mr. 
Eugene  Wrayburn  thought  he  had  passed  my  young 
geiRleman  on  the  bridge  yonder.  Who  was  his  friend 

with  him  ? 

“ The  schoolmaster.” 

“ To  be  sure.  Looked  like  it.”  • , 

Lizzie  sat  so  still,  that  one  could  not  have  said  wherein 
the  fact  of  her  manner  being  troubled  was  expressed; 
and  yet  one  could  not  have  doubted  it.  Eugene  was  as 
easy  as  ever;  but  perhaps,  as  she  sat  with  her  eyes  cas 
down  it  might  have  been  rather  more  perceptible  that 
his  attention  was  concentrated  upon  her  for  certain  mm 
ments,  than  its  concentration  upon  any  subject  tor  ai  y 
short  time  ever  was,  elsewhere. 


STILL  EDUCATIONAL. 


249 


^'I  have  nothing  to  report,  Lizzie,”  said  Eugene. 

But,  having  promised  you  that  an  eye  should  be  al- 
ways kept  on  Mr.  Riderhood  through  my  friend  Light- 
wood,  I like  occasionally  to  renew  my  assurance  that  I 
keep  ihy  promise,  and  keep  my  friend  up  to  the  mark.” 

I should  not  have  doubted  it,  sir.” 

Generally,  I confess  myself  a man  to  be  doubted,” 
returned  Eugene,  coolly,  for  all  that.” 

Why  are  you?”  asked  the  sharp  Miss  Wren. 

''Because,  my  dear,”  said  the  airy  Eugene,  "I  am  a 
bad  idle  dog.” 

" Then  why  don’t  you  reform  and  be  a good  dog?  ” in- 
quired Miss  Wren. 

"Because,  my  dear,”  returned  Eugene,  "there’s  no- 
body who  makes  it  worth  my  while.  Have  you  con- 
sidered my  suggestion,  Lizzie?  ” This  in  a lower  voice, 
but  only  as  if  it  were  a graver  matter;  not  at  all  to  the 
exclusion  of  the  person  of  the  house. 

"I  have  thought  of  it,  Mr.  Wrayburn,  but  I have  not 
been  able  to  make  up  my  mind  to  accept  it.” 

"False  pride!”  said  Eugene. 

"I  think  not,  Mr.  Wrayburn.  I hope  not.” 

" False  pride! ” repeated  Eugene.  "Why,  what  else 
is  it  ? The  thing  is  worth  nothing  in  itself.  The  thing 
is  worth  nothing  to  me.  What  can  it  be  worth  to  me  ? 
You  know  the  most  I make  of  it.  I propose  to  be  of 
some  use  to  somebody — which  I never  was  in  this  world, 
and  never  shall  be  on  any  other  occasion — by  paying 
some  qualified  person  of  your  own  sex  and  age,  so  many 
(or  rather  so  few)  contemptible  shillings,  to  come  here, 
certain  nights  in  the  week,  and  give  you  certain  in- 
struction which  you  wouldn’t  want  if  you  hadn’t  been  a 
self-denying  daughter  and  sister.  You  know  that  it’s 
good  to  have  it,  or  you  would  never  have  so  devoted 
yourself  to  your  brother’s  having  it.  Then  why  not  have 
it:  especially  when  our  friend  Miss  Jenny  here  would 
profit  by  it  too  ? If  I proposed  to  be  the  teacher,  or  to 
attend  the  lessons — obviously  incongruous! — but  as  to 
that,  I might  as  well  be  on  the  other  side  of  the  globe, 
or  not  on  the  globe  at  all.  False  pride,  Lizzie.  Because 
true  pride  wouldn’t  shame,  or  be  shamed  by,  your  thank- 
less brother.  True  pride  wouldn’t  have  schoolmasters 
brought  here,  like  doctors,  to  look  at  a bad  case.  True 
pride  would  go  to  work  and  do  it.  You  know  that,  well 


250 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


enough,  for  you  know  that  your  own  true  pride  would 
do  it  to-morrow,  if  you  had  the  ways  and  means  which 
false  pride  wouldn't  let  me  supply.  Very  well.  I add 
no  more  than  this.  Your  false  pride  does  wrong  to  your- 
self, and  does  wrong  to  your  dead  father." 

How  to  my  father,  Mr.  Wrayburn  ? " she  asked,  with 
an  anxious  face. 

How  to  your  father  ? Can  you  ask!  By  perpetuating 
the  consequences  of  his  ignorant  and  blind  obstinacy. 
By  resolving  not  to  set  right  the  wrong  he  did  you.  By 
determining  that  the  deprivation  to  which  he  con- 
demned you,  and  which  he  forced  upon  you,  shall  al- 
ways rest  upon  his  head." 

It  chanced  to  be  a subtle  string  to  sound,  in  her  who 
had  so  spoken  to  her  brother  within  the  hour.  It 
sounded  far  more  forcibly,  because  of  the  change  in  the 
speaker  for  the  moment ; the  passing  appearance  of 
earnestness,  complete  conviction,  injured  resentment  of 
suspicion,  generous  and  unselfish  interest.  All  these 
qualities,  in  him  usually  so  light  and  careless,  she  felt 
to  be  inseparable  from  some  touch  of  their  opposites  in 
her  own  breast.  She  thought,  had  she,  so  far  below 
him  and  so  different,  rejected  this  disinterestedness, 
because  of  some  vain  misgiving  that  he  sought  her  out, 
or  heeded  any  personal  attractions  that  he  might  descry 
in  her  ? The  poor  girl,  pure  of  heart  and  purpose,  could 
not  bear  to  think  it.  Sinking  before  her  own  eyes,  as 
she  suspected  herself  of  it,  she  drooped  her  head  as 
though  she  had  done  him  some  wicked  and  grievous  in- 
jury, and  broke  into  silent  tears. 

Don’t  be  distressed,"  said  Eugene,  very  very  kindly. 
‘‘1  hope  it  is  not  I who  have  distressed  you.  I meant 
no  more  than  to  put  the  matter  in  its  true  light  before 
you;  though  I acknowledge  I did  it  selfishly  enough,  for 
I am  disappointed." 

Disappointed  of  doing  her  a service.  How  else  cottid 
he  be  disappointed  ? 

It  won’t  break  my  heart,"  laughed  Eugene;  it  won't 
stay  by  me  eight-and-forty  hours;  but  I am  genuinely 
disappointed.  I had  set  my  fancy  on  doing  this  little 
thing  for  you  and  for  our  friend  Miss  Jenny.  The 
novelty  of  my  doing  anything  in  the  least  useful,  had 
its  charms.  I see,  now,  that  I might  have  managed 
it  better.  I might  have  affected  to  do  it  wholly  for  our 


STILL  EDUCATIONAL. 


251 


friend,  Miss  J.  I might  have  got  myself  up,  morally, 
as  Sir  Eugene  Bountiful.  But  upon  my  soul  I canT 
make  flourish.es,  and  I would  rather  be  disappointed 
than  try.” 

If  he  meant  to  follow  hoine  what  was  in  Lizzie’s 
thoughts,  it  was  skilfully  done.  If  he  followed  it  by 
mere  fortuitous  coincidence,  it  was  done  by  an  evil 
chance. 

It  opened  out  so  naturally  before  me,”  said  Eugene. 

The  ball  seemed  so  thrown  into  my  hands  by  accident! 
I happen  to  be  originally  brought  into  contact  with  you, 
Lizzie,  on  those  two  occasions  that  you  know  of.  I hap- 
pen to  be  able  to  promise  you  that  a watch  shall  be  kept 
upon  that  false  accuser,  Riderhood.  I happen  to  be  able 
to  give  you  some  little  consolation  in  the  darkest  hour 
of  your  distress,  by  assuring  you  that  I don’t  believe 
him.  On  the  same  occasion  I tell  you  that  I am  the 
idlest  and  least  of  all  lawyers,  but  that  I am  better  than 
none,  in  a case  I have  noted  down  with  my  own  hand, 
and  that  you  may  be  always  sure  of  my  best  hejp,  and 
incidentally  of  Lightwood’s  too,  in  your  efforts  to  clear 
your  father.  So,  it  gradually  takes  my  fancy  that  I 
may  help  you — so  easily!  to  clear  your  father  of  that 
other  blame  which  I mentioned  a few  minutes  ago,  and 
which  is  a just  and  real  one.  I hope  I have  explained 
myself,  for  I am  heartily  sorry  to  have  distressed  you. 
I hate  to  claim  to  mean  well,  but  I really  did  mean 
honestly  and  simply  well,  and  I want  you  to  know  it.” 

I have  never  doubted  that,  Mr.  Wray  burn,”  said  Lizzie; 
the  more  repentant,  the  less  he  claimed. 

I am  very  glad  to  hear  it.  Though  if  you  had  quite 
understood  my  whole  meaning  at  first,  I think  you 
would  not  have  refused.  Do  you  think  you  would  ?/’ 

^^I — I don’t  know  that  I should,  Mr.  Wrayburn.” 

" ^ Well ! Then  why  refuse  now,  you  do  un  der stand  it  ? ” 

It’s  not  easy  for  me  to  talk  to  you,”  returned  Lizzie, 
in  some  confusion,  ^“^for  you  see  all  the  consequences  of 
what  I say,  as  soon  as  I say  it.” 

Take  all  the  consequences,”  laughed  Eugene,  and 
take  away  my  disappointment.  Lizzie  Hexam,  as  I 
truly  respect  you,  and  as  I am  your  friend  and  a poor 
devil  of  a gentleman,  I protest  I don’t  even  now  under- 
stand why  you  hesitate.” 

There  was  an  appearance  of  openness,  trustfulness. 


252 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


unsuspecting  generosity,  in  his  words  and  manner  that 
won  the  poor  girl  over  ; and  not  only  won  her  over,  but 
again  caused  her  to  feel  as  though  she  had  been  in- 
fluenced by  the  opposite  qualities,  with  vanity  at  their 
head. 

I will  not  hesitate  any  longer,  Mr.  Wrayburn.  I hope 
you  will  not  think  the  worse  of  me  for  having  hesitated 
at  all.  For  myself  and  for  Jenny — you  let  me  answer 
for  you,  Jenny  dear 

The  little  creature  had  been  leaning  back,  attentive, 
with  her  elbows  resting  on  the  elbows  of  her  chair,  and 
her  chin  upon  her  hands.  Without  changing  her  atti- 
tude, she  answered,  ^Wes  ! so  suddenly  Uiat  it  rather 
seemed  as  if  she  had  chopped  the  monysyllable  than 
spoken  it. 

For  myself  and  for  Jenny,  I thankfully  accept  your 
kind  offer.” 

Agreed  ! Dismissed  !”  said  Eugene,  giving  Lizzie 
his  hand  before  lightly  waving  it,  as  if  he  waved  the 
whole  subject  away.  I hope  it  may  not  be  often  that 
so  much  is  made  of  so  little  ! ” 

Then  he  fell  to  talking  playfully  with  Jenny  Wren. 

I think  of  setting  up  a doll.  Miss  Jenny,”  he  saido 

^ Won  had  better  not,”  replied  the  dressmaker. 

^^Whynot?” 

^ Wou  are  sure  to  break  it.  All  you  children  do.” 

But  that  makes  good  for  trade,  you  know.  Miss 
Wren,”  returned  Eugene.  Much  as  people’s  breaking 
promises  and  contracts  and  bargains  of  all  sorts,  makes 
good  for  my  trade  ” 

I don’t  know  about  that,”  Miss  Wren  retorted  ; but 
you  had  better  by  half  set  up  a pen- wiper,  and  turn  in- 
dustrious, and  use  it.” 

^^Why,  if  we  were  all  as  industrious  as  you,  little 
Busy  Body,  we  should  begin  to  work  as  soon  as  we 
could  crawl,  and  there  would  be  a bad  thing  ! ” 

^^Do  you  mean,”  returned  the  little  creature,  with  a 
flush  suffusing  her  face,  bad  for  your  backs  and  your 
legs  ? ” 

^^No,  no,  no,”  said  Eugene;  shocked — to  do  him 
justice — at  the  thought  of  trifling  with  her  infirmity. 
^^Bad  for  business,  bad  for  business.  If  we  all  set  to 
work  as  soon  as  we  could  use  our  hands,  it  would  be 
all  over  with  the  doll’s  dressmakers.” 


OF  AN  EDUCATIONAL  CHARACTER  253 


There’s  something  in  that/’  replied  Miss  Wren; 
you  have  a sort  of  an  idea  in  your  noddle  sometimes.” 
Then  in  a changed  tone:  Talking  of  ideas,  my  Lizzie,” 
they  were  sitting  side  by  side  as  they  had  sat  at  first, 

. ^ I wonder  how  it  happens  that  when  I am  work,  work, 

. working  here,  all  alone  in  the  summer-time,  I smell 
I fiowers.” 

j As  a commonplace  individual,  I should  say,”  Eu- 
gene suggested  languidly — for  he  was  growing  weary 
of  the  person  of  the  house — that  you  smell  fiowers  be- 
cause you  do  smell  fiowers.” 

No  I don’t,”  said  the  little  creature,  resting  one  arm 
upon  the  elbow  of  her  chair,  resting  her  chin  upon  that 
hand,  and  looking  vacantly  before  her  ; ‘‘^this  is  not  a 
fiowery  neighbourhood.  It’s  anything  but  that.  And 
yet  as  I sit  at  work,  I smell  miles  of  fiowers.  I smell  roses, 
till  I think  I see  the  rose-leaves  lying  in  heaps, bushels  on 
the  fioor.  I smell  fallen  leaves,  till  I put  down  my 
hand — so — and  expect  to  make  them  rustle.  I smell 
the  white  and  the  pink  May  in  the  hedges,  and  all  sorts 
of  fiowers  that  I never  was  among.  For  I have  seen 
very  few  fiowers  indeed,  in  my  life.” 

^‘Pleasant  fancies  to  have,  Jenny  dear!”  said  her 
friend  : with  a glance  towards  Eugene  as  if  she  would 
have  asked  him  whether  they  were  given  the  child  in 
compensation  for  her  losses. 

‘^So  I think,  Lizzie,  when  they  come  to  me.  And 
the  birds  I hear!  Oh!”  cried  the  little  creature,  holding 
out  her  hand  and  looking  upward,  ^^how  they  sing  ! ” 
There  was  something  in  the  face  and  action  for  the 
moment,  quite  inspired  and  beautiful.  Then  the  chin 
dropped  musingly  upon  the  hand  again. 

dare  say  my  birds  sing  better  than  other  birds, 
and  my  fiowers  smell  better  than  other  fiowers.  For 
when  I was  a little  child,”  in  a tone  as  though  it  were 
ages  ago,  ^^the  children  that  I used  to  see  early  in  the 
morning  were  very  different  from  any  others  that  I ever 
saw.  They  were  not  like  me ; they  were  not  chilled, 
anxious,  ragged,  or  beaten  ; they  were  never  in  pain. 
They  were  not  like  the  children  of  the  neighbours;  they 
never  made  me  tremble  all  over,  by  setting  up  shrill 
noises,  and  they  never  mocked  me.  Such  numbers  of 
them  too  ! All  in  white  dresses,  and  with  something 
shining  on  the  borders,  and  on  their  heads,  that  I have 


254 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


never  been  able  to  imitate  with  my  work,  though  I 
know  it  so  well.  They  used  to  come  down  in  long, 
bright  slanting  rows,  and  say  all  together,  ''  Who  is  this 
in  pain!  Who  is  this  in  pain!  ’ When  I told  them  who 
it  was,  they  answered,  ^ Come  and  play  with  us ! ^ When 
I said  never  play!  I can’t  play!’  they  swept  about 
me  and  took  me  up,  and  made  me  light.  Then  it  was 
all  delicious  ease  and  rest  till  they  laid  me  down,  and 
said  all  together,  " Have  patience,  and  we  will  come 
again.’  Whenever  they  came  back,  I used  to  know  they 
were  coming  before  I saw  the  long  bright  rows,  by 
hearing  them  ask,  all  together  a long  way  off,  ^ Who  is 
this  in  pain ! who  is  this  in  pain ! ’ And  I used  to  cry 
out,  my  blessed  children,  it’s  poor  me.  Have  pity 
on  me.  Take  me  up  and  make  me  light ! ’ ” 

By  degrees  as  she  progressed  in  this  remembrance, 
the  hand  was  raised,  the  last  ecstatic  look  returned, 
and  she  became  quite  beautiful.  Having  so  paused  for 
a moment,  silent,  with  a listening  smile  upon  her  face, 
she  looked  round  and  recalled  herself. 

What  poor  fun  you  think  me  ; don’t  you,  Mr.  Wray- 
burn  ? You  may  well  look  tired  of  me.  But  it’s  Satur- 
day night,  and  I won’t  detain  you.” 

That  is  to  say.  Miss  Wren,”  observed  Eugene,  quite 
ready  to  profit  by  the  hint,  you  wish  me  to  go  ?” 

'AVell,  it’s  Saturday  night,”  she  returned,  and  my 
child’s  coming  home.  And  my  child  is  a troublesome 
bad  child,  and  costs  me  a world  of  scolding.  I would 
rather  you  didn’t  see  my  child.” 

A doll  ?”  said  Eugene,  not  understanding,  and  look- 
ing for  an  explanation. 

But  Lizzie,  with  her  lips  only,  shaping  the  two  words. 

Her  father,”  he  delayed  no  longer.  He  took  his  leave 
immediately.  At  the  corner  of  the  street  he  stopped  to 
light  another  cigar,  and  possibly  to  ask  himself  what  he 
was  doing  otherwise.  If  so,  the  answer  was  indefinite 
and  vague.  Who  knows  what  he  is  doing,  who  is  care- 
less what  he  does  ! 

A man  stumbled  against  him  as  he  turned  away,  who 
mumbled  some  maudlin  apology.  Looking  after  this 
man,  Eugene  saw  him  go  in  at  the  door  by  which  he 
himself  had  just  come  out. 

On  the  man’s  stumbling  into  the  room,  Lizzie  rose  to 
leave  it. 


OF  AN  EDUCATIONAL  CHAEACTEK 


255 


Don’t  go  away,  Miss  Hexam/’  he  said  in  a submis- 
sive manner,  speaking  thickly  and  with  difficulty. 

Don’t  fly  from  unfortunate  man  in  shattered  state  of 
health.  Give  poor  invalid  honour  of  your  company.  It 
ain’t — ain’t  catching.” 

Lizzie  murmured  that  she  had  something  to  do  in  her 
own  room,  and  went  away  upstairs. 

How’s  my  Jenny  ? ” said  the  man  timidly.  How’s 
my  Jenny  Wren,  best  of  children,  object  dearest  affec- 
tions broken-hearted  invalid  ? ” 

To  which  the  person  of  the  house,  stretching  out  her 
arm  in  an  attitude  of  command,  replied  with  irresponsive 
asperity:  ^^Go  along  with  you!  Go  along  into  your 
corner  I Get  into  your  corner  directly  I ” 

The  wretched  spectacle  made  as  if  he  would  have  of- 
fered some  remonstrance ; but  not  venturing  to  resist 
the  person  of  the  house,  thought  better  of  it,  and  went 
and  sat  down  on  a particular  chair  of  disgrace. 

^^Oh-h-hl”  cried  the  person  of  the  house,  pointing  her 
little  finger,  ^Wou  bad  old  boy!  0-h-h  you  naughty, 
wicked  creature!  What  do  you  mean  by  it?” 

The  shaking  figure,  unnerved  and  disjointed  from 
head  to  foot,  put  out  his  two  hands  a little  way  as  mak- 
ing overtures  of  peace  and  reconciliation.  Abject  tears 
stood  in  its  eyes,  and  stained  the  blotched  red  of 
its  cheeks.  The  swollen  lead-coloured  under  lip  trembled 
with  a shameful  whine.  The  whole  indecorous  thread- 
bare ruin,  from  the  broken  shoes  to  the  prematurely- 
grey  scanty  hair,  grovelled.  Not  with  any  sense,  worthy 
to  be  called  a sense,  of  this  dire  reversal  of  the  places 
of  parent  and  child,  but  in  a pitiful  expostulation  to  be 
let  off  from  a scolding. 

know  your  tricks  and  your  manners,”  cried  Miss 
Wren.  ‘‘I  know  where  you’ve  been  to!  ” (which,  indeed, 
it  did  not  require  discernment  to  discover).  Oh,  you 
disgraceful  old  chap ! ” 

The  very  breathing  of  the  figure  was  contemptible,  as 
it  labored  and  rattled  in  that  operation,  like  a blunder- 
ing clock. 

Slave,  slave,  slave,  from  morning  to  night,”  pur- 
sued the  person  of  the  house,  ''  and  all  for  this  ! What 
do  you  mean  by  it?  ” 

There  was  something  in  that  emphasized  ^^What,” 
which  absurdly  frightened^the  figure.  As  often  as  "^he 


256 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


person  of  the  house  worked  her  way  round  to  it — even 
as  soon  as  he  saw  that  it  was  coming — he  collapsed  in 
an  extra  degree. 

I wish  you  had  been  taken  up,  and  locked  up/'  said 
the  person  of  the  house.  I wish  you  had  been  poked 
into  cells  and  black  holes,  and  run  over  by  rats  and 
spiders  and  beetles.  I know  their  tricks  and  their  man- 
ners, and  they'd  have  tickled  you  nicely.  Ain't  you 
ashamed  of  yourself  ? " 

Yes,  my  dear,"  stammered  the  father. 

‘^^Then,"  said  the  person  of  the  house,  terrifying  him 
by  a grand  muster  of  her  spirits  and  forces  before 
recurring  to  the  emphatic  word,  '‘^What  do  you  mean 
by  it  ? " 

Circumstances  over  which  had  no  control,"  was  the 
miserable  creature's  plea  in  extenuation. 

‘‘FW  circumstance  you  and  control  you  too,"  retorted 
the  person  of  the  house,  speaking  with  vehement  sharp- 
ness, if  you  talk  in  that  way.  I'll  give  you  in  charge 
to  the  police,  and  have  you  fined  five  shillings  when 
you  can't  pay,  and  then  I won't  pay  the  money  for  you, 
and  you'll  be  transported  for  life.  How  should  you  like 
to  be  transported  for  life?" 

Shouldn't  like  it.  Poor  shattered  invalid.  Trouble 
nobody  long,"  cried  the  wretched  figure. 

''Come,  come!"  said  the  person  of  the  house,  tapping 
the  table  near  her  in  a business-like  manner,  and  shak- 
ing her  head  and  her  chin;  " you  know  what  you've  got 
to  do.  Put  down  your  money  this  instant." 

The  obedient  figure  began  to  rummage  in  its  pockets. 

" Spent  a fortune  out  of  your  wages.  I'll  be  bound!" 
said  the  person  of  the  house.  "Put  it  here!  All  you've 
got  left!  Every  farthing!" 

Such  a business  as  he  made  of  collecting  it  from  his 
dogs'-eared  pockets;  of  expecting  it  in  this  pocket,  and 
not  finding  it;  of  not  expecting  it  in  that  pocket,  and 
passing  it  over;  of  finding  no  pocket  where  that  other 
pocket  ought  to  be ! 

"Is  this  all?"  demanded  the  person  of  the  house, 
when  a confused  heap  of  pence  and  shillings  lay  on  the 
table. 

" Got  no  more,"  was  the  rueful  answer,  with  an  ac- 
cordant shake  of  the  head 

" Let  me  make  sure.  You  know  what  you've  got  to 


f 


THE  PERSON  OF  THE  HOUSE  AND  THE  BAD  CHILD. 

Our  Mutual  Friend. 


OF  AN  EDUCATIONAL  CHARACTER.  )i57 


do.  Turn  all  your  pockets  inside  out,  and  leave  ’em  so!  ” 
cried  the  person  of  the  house. 

He  obeyed.  And  if  any  thing  could  have  made  him 
look  more  abject  or  more  dismally  ridiculous  than  before, 
it  would  have  been  his  so  displaying  himself. 

“Here’s  but  seven  and  eightpence  halfpenny!”  ex- 
claimed Miss  Wren,  after  reducing  the  heap  to  order, 
you  prodigal  old  son!  Now  yoy.  shall  be  starved.” 

“ No,  don’t  starve  me,”  he  urged,  whimpering. 

“If  you  were  treated  as  you  ought  to  be,”  said  Miss 
Wren,  “ you’d  be  fed  upon  the  skewers  of  cats’  meat; — 
only  the  skewers,  after  the  cats  had  had  the  meat.  As 
it  is,  go  to  bed.” 

When  he  stumbled  out  of  the  corner  to  comply,  he 
again  put  out  both  his  hands,  and  pleaded:  “Circum- 
stances over  which  no  control ” 

“ Get  along  with  you  to  bed!”  cried  Miss  Wren,  snap- 
ping him  up.  “ Don’t  speak  to  me.  I’m  not  going  to 
forgive  you.  Go  to  bed  this  moment!” 

Sending  another  emphatic  “ What  ” upon  its  way  he 
evaded  it  by  complying,  and  was  heard  to  shuffle  heav- 
ily upstairs,  and  shut  his  door,  and  throw  himself  on 
his  bed.  Within  a little  while  afterwards  Lizzie  came 
down. 


“ Shall  we  have  our  supper,  Jenny  dear  ? ” 

“ Ah  ! bless  us  and  save  us,  we  need  have  something 
to  Keep  us  going,”  returned  Miss  Jenny,  shrugging  her 
shoulders. 


Lizzie  laid  a cloth  upon  the  little  bench  (more  handy 
for  the  person  of  the  house  than  an  ordinary  table),  and 
put  upon  it  such  plain  fare  as  they  were  accustomed  to 
have,  and  drew  up  a stool  for  herself. 

darling?  supper  ! What  are  you  thinking  of,  Jenny 

“ I was  thinking,”  she  returned,  coming  out  of  a deep 
study,  what  I would  do  to  Him,  if  he  should  turn  out 
a drunkard.” 

“ Oh  but  he  won’t,”  said  Lizzie.  “ You’ll  take  care 
or  that  beforehand.” 

“I  shall  try  to  take  care  of  it  beforehand.  But  he 
might  deceive  me.  Oh,  my  dear,  all  those  fellows  with 
their  tricks  and  their  manners  do  deceive  ! ” With  the 
ittle  fist  in  full  action.  ''And  if  so,  I tell  you  what  1 
tiling;  Id  do.  When  he  was  asleep  Fd  make  a spoon 

VOL,  I,  17 


258 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


red-hot,  and  Fd  have  some  boiling  liquor  bubbling  in  a 
saucepan,  and  I’d  take  it  out  hissing,  and  I’d  open  his 
mouth  with  the  other  hand — or  perhaps  he’d  sleep  with 
his  mouth  ready  open — and  I’d  pour  it  down  his  throat, 
and  blister  it  and  choke  him.” 

“ I am  sure  you  would  do  no  such  horrible  thing,” 
said  Lizzie. 

“Shouldn’t  I?”  Well,  perhaps  I shouldn’t.  But  I 
would  like  to  ! ” 

“ I am  equally  sure  you  would  not.” 

“ Not  even  like  to  ! Well,  you  generally  know  best.. 
Only  you  haven’t  always  lived  among  it  as  I have  lived 
— and  your  back  isn’t  bad  and  your  legs  are  not  queer.” 

As  they  went  on  with  their  supper,  Lizzie  tried  to 
bring  her  round  to  that  prettier  and  better  state.  But 
the  charm  was  broken.  The  person  of  the  house  was 
the  person  of  a house  full  of  sordid  shames  and  cares, 
with  an  upper  room  in  which  that  abased  figure  was 
infecting  even  innocent  sleep  with  sensual  brutality 
and  degradation.  The  doll’s  dressmaker  had  become  a 
little  quaint  shrew ; of  the  world,  worldly ; of  the 
earth,  earthy. 

Poor  doll’s  dressmaker  ! How  often  so  dragged  down 
bjr  hands  that  should  have  raised  her  up  ; how  often  so 
misdirected  when  losing  her  way  on  the  eternal  road, 
and  asking  guidance  ! Poor,  poor  little  doll’s  dress- 
maker ! 


CHAPTER  III. 

A PIECE  OF  WORK, 

Britannia,  sitting  meditating  one  fine  day  (per- 
haps in  the  attitude  in  which  she  is  presented  on 
the  copper  coinage),  discovers  all  of  a sudden  that  she 
wants  Veneering  in  Parliament.  It  occurs  to  her  that 
Veneering  is  a “representative  man” — which  cannot 
in  these  times  be  doubted — and  that  Her  Majesty’s 
faithful  Commons  are  incomplete  without  him.  So, 
Britannia  mentions  to  a legal  gentleman  of  her  ac- 
quaintance that  if  Veneering  will  “put  down”  five 


A PIECE  OF  WORK.  259 

thousand  pounds,  he  may  write  a couple  of  initial 
letters  after  his  name  at  the  extremely  cheap  rate  of 
two  thousand  five  hundred  per  letter.  It  is  clearly 
understood  hetween  Britannia  and  the  legal  gentleman 
that  nobody  is  to  take  up  the  five  thousand  pounds,  but 
that  being  put  down  they  will  disappear  by  magical 
conjuration  and  enchantment.  ^ 

The  legal  gentleman  in  Britannia’s  confidence  goins: 
straight  from  that  lady  to  Veneering,  thus  commit 
sioned.  Veneering  declares  himself  highly  fiattered 
but  requires  breathing  time  to  ascertain  “ whether  his 
friends  will  rally  round  him.”  Above  all  things,  he 
says.  It  behooves  him  to  be  clear,  at  a crisis  of  this  im- 
portance whether  his  friends  will  rally  round  him.” 
the  legal  genUeman,  in  the  interests  of  his  client,  can- 
not  allow  niuch  time  for  this  purpose,  as  the  lady  rather 
thinks  she  knows  somebody  prepared  to  put  down  six 
pounds  ; but  he  says  he  will  give  Veneering 

Veneering-  then  says  to  Mrs.  Veneering,  ‘‘We  must 
work,  and  throws  himself  into  a Hansom  cab  Mrs 
Veneering  in  the  same  moment  relinquishes  baby  to 
Nurse ; presses  her  aquiline  hands  upon  her  brow  to 
arrange  the  throbbing  intellect  within  ; orders  out  the 
carriage  ; and  repeats  in  a distracted  and  devoted  man- 
Ophelia  and  any  self-immolating 
temale  of  antiquity  you  may  prefer,  “We  must  work  ” 
+u  having  instructed  his  driver  to  charge  at 

the  Public  in  the  streets,  like  the  Life-Guards  at  Wat- 
^‘"ously  to  Duke  Street,  Saint  James’s. 
There  he  finds  Twemlow  in  his  lodgings,  fresh  from 
the  hands  of  a secret  artist  who  has  been  doing  some- 
thing to  his  hair  with  yolks  of  eggs.  The  process  re- 
quiring that  Twemlow  shall,  for  two  hours  after  the 
application  allow  his  hair  to  stick  upright  and  dry 

Sf  appropriate  state  fo?  the  receipt 

ot  startling  intelligence  ; looking  equally  like  the  Mon- 
ument on  Fish  Street  Hill,  and  King  Priam  on  a certain 
from  Hie  unknown  as  a neat  point 

“My  dear  Twemlow,”  says  Veneering,  grasping  both 
^ dearest  and  oldest  of  my  frienSs— ” 

thinks  TwSw'“  an  "1  Tri 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


2m 

— Are  you  of  opinion  that  your  cousin,  Lord  Snigs- 
Avorth,  would  give  his  name  as  a member  of  my  com- 
mittee ? I don’t  go  so  far  as  to  ask  for  his  lordship  ; I 
only  ask  for  his  name.  Do  you  think  he  would  give 
me  his  name  ? ” 

In  sudden  low  spirits,  Twemlow  replies,  I don’t 
think  he  would.” 

My  political  opinions,”  says  Veneering,  not  prev- 
iously aware  of  having  any,  ^‘are  identical  with  those 
of  Lord  Snigsworth,  and  perhaps  as  a matter  of  public 
feeling  and  public  principle.  Lord  Snigsworth  would 
give  me  his  name.” 

It  might  be  so,”  says  TAvemlow  , '^but ” And 

perplexedly  scratching  his  head,  forgetful  of  the  yolks 
of  eggs,  is  the  more  discomfited  by  being  reminded  how 
sticky  he  is. 

Between  such  old  and  intimate  friends  as  ourselves,” 
pursues  Veneering,  there  should  in  such  a case  be  no 
reserve.  Promise  me  that  if  I ask  you  to  do  anything 
for  me  which  you  don’t  like  to  do,  or  feel  the  slightest 
difficulty  in  doing,  you  will  freely  tell  me  so.” 

This,  Twemlow  is  so  kind  as  to  promise,  with  every 
appearance  of  most  heartily  intending  to  keep  his  word. 

Would  you  have  any  objection  to  write  down  to 
Snigsworthy  Park,  and  ask  this  favour  of  Lord  Snigs- 
worth ? Of  course  if  it  were  granted  I should  know  that 
I owed  it  solely  to  you ; while  at  the  same  time  you 
would  put  it  to  Lord  Snigsworth  entirely  upon  public 
grounds.  Vv^ould  you  have  any  objection  ? ” 

Says  Twemlovf,  with  his  hand  to  his  forehead,”  You 
have  exacted  a promise  from  me.” 

I have,  my  dear  TwernloAv.” 

And  you  expect  to  keep  it  honourably.” 

I do,  my  dear  Twemlow.” 

On  the  whole,  then; — observe  me,”  urges  Twemlow  i 
with  great  nicety,  as  if,  in  the  case  of  its  having  been  1 
off  the  whole,  he  would  have  done  it  directly — on  the  j 
whole,  I must  beg  to  excuse  me  from  addressing  any  \ 
communication  to  Lord  Snigsworth.  ” 

Bless  you,  bless  you  !”  says  Veneering  ; horribly  ‘ 
disappointed,  but  grasping  him  by  both  hands  again,  in  ( 
a particularly  fervent  manner. 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  poor  Twemlow  should 
decline  to  inflict  a letter  on  his  noble  cousin  (who  has 


A PIECE  OF  WORK. 


201 


gout  in  the  temper),  inasmuch  as  his  noble  cousin,  who 
allows  him  a small  annuity  on  which  he  lives,  takes  it 
out  of  him,  as  the  phrase  goes,  in  extreme  severity;  put- 
ting him,  when  he  visits  at  Snigsworthy  Park,  under  a 
kind  of  martial  law;  ordaining  that  he  shall  hang  his 
hat  on  a particular  peg,  sit  on  a particular  chair,  talk 
on  particular  subjects  to  particular  people,  and  perform 
particular  exercises;  such  as  sounding  the  praises  of  the 
Family  Varnish  (not  to  say  Pictures),  and  abstaining 
from  the  choicest  of  the  Family  Wines  unless  expressly 
invited  to  partake. 

One  thing,  however,  I can  do  for  you,’’  says  Twem- 
low;  ^^and  that  is  work  for  you.” 

Veneering  blesses  him  again. 

I’ll  go,  says  Twemlow,  in  a rising  hurry  of  spirits, 
^^to  the  club; — let  us  see  now;  what  o’clock  is  it  ?” 

Twenty  minutes  to  eleven.” 

I’ll  be,”  says  Twemlow,  a.t  the  club  by  ten  minutes 
to  twelve,  and  I’ll  never  leave  it  all  day.” 

Veneering  feels  that  his  friends  are  rallying  round 
him,  and  says,  Thank  you.  Thank  you.  I knew  I 
could  rely  upon  you,  I said  to  Anastatia  before  leaving 
home  just  now  to  come  to  you — of  course  the  first  friend 
I have  seen  on  a subject  so  momentous  to  me,  my  dear 
Twemlow — I said  to  Anastatia,  ^ We  must  work,”’ 

^Wou  were  right,  you  were  right,”  replies  Twemlow. 

Tell  me.  Is  she  working  ? ” 

She  is,”  says  Veneering. 

^^Good  !”  cries  Twemlow,  polite  little  gentleman  that 
he  is.  A woman’s  tact  is  invaluable.  To  have  the 
dear  sex  with  us,  is  to  have  everything  with  us.” 

^^But  you  have  not  imparted  to  me,”  remarks  Veneer- 
ing, ^^what  you  think  of  my  entering  the  House  of 
Commons  ? ” 

think,”  rejoins  Twemlow,  feelingly,  that  it  is  the 
best  club  in  London.” 

Veneering  again  blesses  him,  plunges  down  stairs, 
rushes  into  his  Hansom,  and  directs  the  driver  to  be  up 
and  at  the  British  public,  and  to  charge  into  the  City. 

Meanwhile  Twemlow,  in  an  increasing  hurry  of 
spirits,  gets  his  hair  down  as  well  as  he  can — which  is 
not  very  well ; for,  after  these  glutinous  applications  it 
is  restive,  and  has  a surface  on  it  somewhat  in  the 
nature  of  pastry — and  gets  to  the  club  by  the  appointed 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


202 

time.  At  the  club  he  promptly  secures  a large  window, 
writing  materials,  and  all  the  newspapers,  and  estab- 
lishes himself,  immoveable,  to  be  respectfully  con- 
templated by  Pall  Mall.  Sometimes,  when  a man  enters 
who  nods  to  him,  Twemlow  says,  ^^Do  you  know 
Veneering  ?’’  Man  says,  ^^No  ; member  of  the  club  V 
Twemlow  says,  Yes.  Coming  in  for  Pocket-Breaches.’’ 
Man  says,  ^^Ah!  Hope  he  may  find  it  worth  the 
money  ! ” yawns,  and  saunters  out.  Towards  six  o’clock 
of  the  afternoon,  Twemlow  begins  to  persuade  himself 
that  he  is  positively  jaded  with  work,  and  thinks  it 
much  to  be  regretted  that  he  was  not  brought  up  as  a 
Parliamentary  agent. 

From  Twemlow’s,  Veneering  dashes  at  Podsnap’s 
place  of  business.  Finds  Podsnap  reading  the  paper, 
standing,  and  inclined  to  be  oratorical  over  the  astonish- 
ing discovery  he  has  made,  that  Italy  is  not  England. 
Respectfully  entreats  Podsnap’s  pardon  for  stopping 
the  fiow  of  his  words  of  wisdom,  and  informs  him  what 
is  in  the  wind.  Tells  Podsnap  that  their  political 
opinions  are  identical.  Gives  Podsnap  to  understand 
that  he.  Veneering,  formed  his  political  opinions  while 
sitting  at  the  feet  of  him,  Podsnap,  Seeks  earnestly  to 
know  whether  Podsnap  will  rally  round  him  ?” 

Says  Podsnap,  something  sternly:  ^^Now,  first  of  all. 
Veneering,  do  you  ask  my  advice?” 

Veneering  falters  that  as  so  old  and  so  dear  a 
friend . 

Yes,  yes,  that’s  all  very  well,”  says  Podsnap;  ‘^but 
have  you  made  up  your  mind  to  take  this  borough  of 
Pocket- Breaches  on  its  own  terms,  or  do  you  ask  my 
opinion  whether  you  shall  take  it  or  leave  it  alone?” 

Veneering  repeats  that  his  heart’s  desire  and  his 
soul’s  thirst  are,  that  Podsnap  shall  rally  round  him. 

Now,  I’ll  be  plain  with  you.  Veneering,”  says  Pod- 
snap, knitting  his  brows.  You  will  infer  that  I don’t  i 
care  about  Parliament,  from  the  fact  of  my  not  being 
there?” 

Why,  of  course  Veneering  knows  that ! Of  course 
Veneering  knows  that  if  Podsnap  chose  to  go  there,  he 
would  be  there,  in  a space  of  time  that  might  be  stated 
by  the  light  and  thoughtless  as  a jiffy. 

It  is  not  worth  my  while,”  pursues  Podsnap,  be- 
coming handsomely  mollified,  ^^and  it  is  the  reverse  of 


A PIECE  OF  WORK. 


203 


important  to  my  position.  But  it  is  not  my  wish  to  set 
myself  up  as  law  for  another  man,  differently  situated. 
You  think  it  is  worth  your  while,  and  is  important  to 
your  position.  Is  that  so?” 

Always  with  the  proviso  that  Podsnap  will  rally 
round  him.  Veneering  thinks  it  is  so. 

“Then  you  don’t  ask  my  advice,”  says  Podsnap. 
“Good.  Then  I won’t  give  it  you.  But  you  do  ask  my 
help.  Good.  Then  I’ll  work  for  you.  ” 

Veneering  instantly  blesses  him,  and  apprizes  him 
that  Twemlow  is  already  working.  Podsnap  does  not 
guite  approve  that  anybody  should  be  already  work- 
ing-regarding it  rather  in  the  light  of  a liberty — but 
tolerates  Twemlow,  and  says  he  is  a well-connected  old 
female  who  will  do  no  harm. 

“ I have  nothing  very  particular  to  do  to-day,”  adds 
Podsnap,  “and  I’ll  mix  with  some  influential  people.  I 
had  engaged  myself  to  dinner,  but  I’ll  send  Mrs.  Pod- 
snap and  get  off  going  myself,  and  I’ll  dine  with  you  at 
eight.  It’s  important  we  should  report  progress  and 
compare  notes.  Now,  let  me  see.  You  ought  to  have  a 
couple  of  active  energetic  fellows,  of  gentlemanly  man- 
ners, to  go  about.” 

Veneering,  after  cogitation,  thinks  of  Boots  and 
Brewer. 

“ Whom  I have  met  at  your  house,  ” says  Podsnap. 
“ Yes.  They’ll  do  very  well.  Let  them  each  have  a cab, 
and  go  about.” 

Veneering  immediately  mentions  what  a blessing  he 
feels  it  to  possess  a friend  capable  of  such  grand  ad- 
ministrative suggestions,  and  really  is  elated  at  this 
going  about  of  Boots  and  Brewer,  as  an  idea  wearing 
an  electioneering  aspect  and  looking  desperately  like 
business.  Leaving  Podsnap,  at  a hand-gallop  he  de- 
scends upon  Boots  and  Brewer,  who  enthusiastically 
rally  round  him  by  at  once  bolting  off  in  cabs,  taking 
opposite  directions.  Then  Veneering  repairs  to  the  legal 
gentleman  in  Britannia’s  confidence,  and  with  him 
transacts  some  delicate  affairs  of  business,  and  issues 
an  address  to  the  independent  electors  of  Pocket- 
Breaches,  announcing  that  he  is  coming  among  them 
for  their  suffrages,  as  the  mariner  returns  to  the  home 
of  his  earlj  childhood ; a phrase  which  is  none  the 
worse  for  his  never  having  been  near  the  place  in  his 


204 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


life,  and  not  even  now  distinctly  knowing  where  it  is. 

Mrs.  Veneering,  during  the  same  eventful  hours,  is 
not  idle.  No  sooner  does  the  carriage  turn  out,  all  com- 
plete, than  she  turns  into  it,  all  complete,  and  gives  the 
word To  Lady  Tippin’s.’’  That  charmer  dwells  over 
a staymaker’s  in  the  Belgravian  Borders,  with  a life- 
size  model  in  the  window  on  the  ground  floor,  of  a 
distinguished  beauty  in  a blue  petticoat,  stay-lace  in 
hand,  looking  over  her  shoulder  at  the  town  in  innocent 
surprise.  As  well  she  may,  to  find  herself  dressing 
under  the  circumstances. 

Lady  Tippins  at  home  ? Lady  Tippins  at  home,  with 
the  room  darkened,  and  her  back  (like  the  lady’s 
at  the  ground- floor  window,  though  for  a different 
reason)  cunningly  turned  towards  the  light.  Lady 
Tippins  is  so  surprised  by  seeing  her  dear  Mrs.  Veneer- 
ing so  early — in  the  middle  of  the  night,  the  pretty 
creature  calls  it — that  her  eyelids  almost  go  up,  under 
the  influence  of  that  emotion. 

To  v/hom  Mrs.  Veneering  incoherently  communicates, 
how  that  Veneering  has  been  offered  Pocket -Breaches  ; 
how  that  it  is  the  time  for  rallying  round  ; how  that 
Veneering  has  said  We  must  work  ; ” how  that  she  is 
here,  as  a wife  and  mother,  to  entreat  Lady  Tippins  to 
work  ; how  that  the  carriage  is  at  Lady  Tippin’s  disposal 
for  purposes  of  work  ; how  that  she,  proprietress  of  said 
bran  new  elegant  equipage,  will  return  home  on  foot — 
on  bleeding  feet  if  need  be — to  work  (not  specifying 
how),  until  she  drops  by  the  side  of  baby’s  crib. 

^^My  love,”  says  Lady  Tippins,  compose  yourself; 
well  bring  him  in.”  And  Lady  Tippins  really  does 
work,  and  work  the  Veneering  horses  too;  for  she  clat- 
ters about  town  all  day,  calling  upon  everybody  she 
knows,  and  showing  her  entertaining  powers  and  green 
fan  to  immense  advantage,  by  rattling  on  with.  My 
dear  soul,  what  do  you  think  ? What  do  you  suppose 
me  to  be  ? You’ll  never  guess.  I’m  pretending  to  be 
an  electioneering  agent.  And  for  what  place  of  all 
places  ? Pocket-Breaches.  And  why?  Because  the 
dearest  friend  I have  in  the  world  has  bought  it.  And 
who  is  the  dearest  friend  I have  in  the  world  ? A man 
of  the  name  of  Veneering.  Not  omitting  his  wife,  who 
is  the  other  dearest  friend  I have  in  the  world;  and  I posi- 
tively declare  I forgot  their  baby,  who  is  the  other, 


A PIECE  OF  WORK. 


205 

And  we  are  carrying  on  this  little  farce  to  keep  up  ap- 
pearances, and  isn’t  it  refreshing  ! Then,  my  precious 
.child,  the  fun  of  it  is  that  nobody  knows  who  these 
Veneerings  are,  and  that  they  know  nobody,  and 
that  they  have  a house  out  of  the  Tales  of  the  Genii, 
and  give^inners  out  of  the  Arabian  Mghts.  Curious 
to  see  ’em,  my  dear  ? Say  you’ll  know  ’em.  Come 
and  dine  with  ’em.  They  shan’t  bore  you.  Say  who 
shall  meet  you.  We’ll  make  up  a party  of  our  own, 
and  I’ll  engage  that  they  shall  not  interfere  with 
you  for  one  single  moment.  You  really  ought  to  see 
their  gold  and  silver  camels.  I call  their  dinner-table, 
the  Caravan.  Do  come  and  dine  with  my  Veneerings, 
my  own  Veneerings,  my  exclusive  property,  the  dearest 
friends  I have  in  the  world  ! And  above  all,  my  dear, 
be  sure  you  promise  me  your  vote  and  interest  and  all 
sorts  of  plumpers  for  Pocket-Breaches:  for  we  couldn’t 
think  of  spending  sixpence  on  it,  my  love,  and  can  only 
consent  to  be  brought  in  by  the  spontaneous  thingum- 
mies  of  the  incorruptible  whatdoyoucallums. 

, Now,  the  point  of  view  seized  by  the  bewitching  Tip- 
pins,  that  this  same  working  and  rallying  round  is  to 
keep  up  appearances,  may  have  something  in  it,  but 
not  all  the  truth.  More  is  done,  or  considered  to  be 
done — which  does  as  well — by  taking  cabs,  and  going 
about,”  than  the  fair  Tippins  knew  of.  Many  vast 
vague  reputations  have  been  made,  solely  by  taking 
cabs  and  going  about.  This  particularly  obtains  in  all 
Parliamentary  affairs.  Whether  the  business  in  hand 
be  to  get  a man  in,  or  get  a man  out,  or  get  a man  over, 
or  promote  a railway,  or  jockey  a railway,  or  what  else, 
nothing  is  understood  to  be  so  effected  as  scouring  no- 
where in  a violent  hurry — in  short,  as  taking  cabs  and 
going  about. 

Probably  because  this  reason  is  in  the  air,  Twemlow, 
far  from  being  singular  in  his  persuasion  that  he  works 
like  a Trojan,  is  capped  by  Podsnap,  who  in  his  turn  is 
capped  by  Boots  and  Brewer.  At  eight  o’clock,  when 
all  these  hard  workers  assemble  to  dine  at  Veneering’s, 
it  is  understood  that  the  cabs  of  Boots  and  Brewer 
mustn’t  leave  the  door,  but  that  pails  of  water  must  be 
brought  from  the  nearest  baiting-place,  and  cast  over 
the  horses’  legs  on  the  very  spot,  lest  Boots  and  Brewer 
should  have  instant  occasion  to  mount  and  away.  Those 


m OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

fleet  messengers  reejuire  the  Analytical  to  see  that  their 
hats  are  deposited  where  they  can  be  laid  hold  of  at  an 
instant’s  notice ; and  they  dine  (remarkably  well 
though)  with  the  air  of  firemen  in  charge  of  an  engine, 
expecting  intelligence  of  some  tremendous  conflagra- 

*^^rs  Veneering  faintly  remarks,  as  dinner  opens, 
that  many  such  days  would  be  too  much  for  her. 

Many  such,  days  would  be  too  much  for  all  oi  us, 
savs  Podsnap,  “ but  we’ll  bring  him  in.” 

“We’ll  bring  him  in,”  says  Lady  Tippins,  sportively 
waving  her  green  fan.  “ Veneering  for  ever  ! ” 

“ We’ll  bring  him  in  !”  says  Twemlow. 

“We’ll  bring  him  in  !”  says  Boots  and  Brewer. 

Strictly  speaking,  it  would  be  hard  to  show  cause 
why  they  should  not  bring  him  in,  Pocket-Breaches  , 
having  closed  its  little  bargain,  and  there  being  no 
opposition.  However,  it  is  agreed  that  they  must 
“ work”  to  the  last,  and  that  if  they  did  not  work, 
something  indefinite  would  happen.  It  is  likewise 
ao-reed  that  they  are  all  so  exhausted  with  the  work 
behind  them,  and  need  to  be  so  fortified  for  the  work 
before  them,  as  to  require  peculiar  strengthening  from 
Veneering’s  cellar.  Therefore,  the  A.nalytical  has 
orders  to  produce  the  cream  of  the  cream  of  his  bins, 
and  therefore  it  falls  out  that  rallying  becomes  rather 
a trying  word  for  the  occasion  ; Lady  Tippins  bemg 
observed  gamely  to  inculcate  the  necessity  of  reaiing 
round  their  dear  Veneering  ; Podsnap  advocating  roar- 
ing round  him  ; Boots  and  Brewer  declaring  their  in- 
tention of  reeling  round  him  ; and  V eneering  thanking 
his  devoted  friends  one  and  all,  with  great  emotion,  for 
rarullarulling  round  him. 

In  these  inspiring  moments.  Brewer  strikes  out  an 
idea  which  is  the  great  hit  of  the  day.  He  consults  his 
watch,  and  says  (like  Guy  Fawkes),  he’ll  now  go  down  , 
to  the  House  of  Commons  and  see  how  things  look. 

^HTl  keep  about  the  lobby  for  an  hour  or  so,”  says 
Brewer,  with  a deeply  mysterious  countenance,  ''and  if 
things  look  well,  I won’t  come  back,  but  will  order  my 
cab  for  nine  in  the  morning.” 

"You  couldn’t  do  better,”  says  Podsnap.  | 

Veneering  expresses  his  inability  ever  to  acknowl-  j 
edge  this  last  service.  Tears  stand  in  Mrs.  Veneering’s  , 


A PIECE  OF  WORK. 


267 


affectionate  eyes.  Boots  shows  envy,  loses  ground,  and 
is  regarded  as  possessing  a second-rate  mind.  They  all 
crowd  to  the  door,  to  see  Brewer  off.  Brewer  says  to 
his  driver,  ^^Now,  is  your  horse  pretty  fresh  ?”  eyeing 
the  animal  with  critical  scrutiny.  Driver  says  he’s  as 
fresh  as  butter.  Put  him  along  then,”  says  Brewer  ; 

House  of  Commons.”  Driver  darts  up.  Brewer  leaps 
in,  they  cheer  him  as  he  departs,  and  Mr.  Podsnap  says, 

Mark  my  words,  sir.  That’s  a man  of  resource  ; that’s 
a man  to  make  his  way  in  life.” 

When  the  time  comes  for  Veneering  to  deliver  a neat 
and  appropriate  stammer  to  the  men  of  Pocket-Breaches, 
only  Podsnap  and  Twemlow  accompany  him  by  rail- 
way to  that  sequestered  spot.  The  legal  gentleman  is 
at  the  Pocket-Breaches  Branch  Station,  with  an  open 
c irriage  with  a printed  bill  Veneering  for  ever”  stuck 
upon  it,  as  if  it  were  a wall ; and  they  gloriously  pro- 
ceed, amidst  the  grins  of  the  populace,  to  a feeble  little 
town  hall  on  crutches,  with  some  onions  and  bootlaces 
under  it,  which  the  legal  gentleman  says  are  a Market ; 
and  from  the  front  window  of  that  edifice  Veneering 
speaks  to  the  listening  earth.  In  the  moment  of  his 
taking  his  hat  off,  Podsnap,  as  per  agreement  made 
with  Mrs.  Veneering,  telegraphs  to  that  wife  and 
mother,  He’s  up.” 

Veneering  loses  his  way  ip  the  usual  Ko  Thorough- 
fares of  speech,  and  Podsnap  and  Twemlow  say.  Hear, 
hear  ! and  sometimes,  when  he  can’t  by  any  means  back 
himself  out  of  some  very  unlucky  No  Thoroughfare, 
^^He-a-a-r,  He-a-a-r!”  with  an  air  of  facetious  convic- 
tion, as  if  the  ingenuity  of  the  thing  gave  them  a sen- 
sation of  exquisite  pleasure.  But  Veneering  makes  two 
remarkably  good  points  ; so  good,  that  they  are  sup- 
posed to  have  been  suggested  to  him  by  the  legal  gen- 
tleman in  Britannia’s  confidence,  while  briefly  confer- 
ring on  the  stairs. 

Point  the  first  is  this.  Veneering  institutes  an  origi- 
nal comparision  between  the  country,  and  a ship ; 
pointedly  calling  the  ship  the  Vessel  of  the  State,  and 
the  Minister  the  Man  at  the  Helm  Veneering’s  object 
is  to  let  Pocket -Breaches  know  that  his  friend  on  his 
right  (Podsnap)  is  a man  of  wealth.  Consequently  says 
he,  And,  gentlemen,  when  the  timbers  of  the  Vessel 
of  the  State  are  unsound  and  the  Man  at  tJie  Helm  is 


268 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


unskillful,  would  those  great  Marine  Insurers,  who 
rank  among  our  world-famed  merchant-princes — would 
they  insure  her,  gentlemen  ? Would  they  underwrite 
her?  Would  they  incur  a risk  in  her?  Would  they 
have  confidence  in  her  ? Why,  gentlemen,  if  I appealed 
to  my  honourable  friend  upon  my  right,  himself  among 
the  greatest  and  most  respected  of  that  great  and  much 
respected  class,  he  would  answer,  No  ! 

Point  the  second  is  this.  The  telling  fact  that  Twem- 
low  is  related  to  Lord  Snigsworth,  must  be  let  off. 
Veneering  supposes  a state  of  public  affairs  that 
probably  never  could  by  any  possibility  exist  (though 
this  is  not  quite  certain,  in  consequence  of  his  picture 
being  unintelligible  to  himself  and  everybody  else),  and 
thus  proceeds  : Why,  gentlemen,  if  I were  to  indicate 

such  a programme  to  any  class  of  society,  I say  it  would 
be  received  with  derision,  would  be  pointed  at  by  the 
finger  of  scorn.  If  I indicated  such  a programme  to 
any  worthy  and  intelligent  tradesman  of  your  town — 
nay,  I will  here  be  personal,  and  say  Our  town — what 
would  he  reply?  He  would  reply,  ^ Away  with  it  I’ 
That’s  what  he  would  reply,  gentlemen.  In  his  honest 
indignation  he  would  reply,  ' Away  with  it  ! ’ But  sup- 
pose I mounted  higher  in  the  social  scale.  Suppose  I 
drew  my  arm  through  the  arm  of  my  respected  friend 
upon  my  left,  and,  walking  with  him  through  the  an- 
cestral woods  of  his  family,  and  under  the  spreading 
beeches  of  Snigsworthy  Park,  approached  the  noble 
hall,  crossed  the  courtyard,  entered  by  the  door,  went 
up  the  staircase,  and,  passing  from  room  to  room,  found 
myself  at  last  in  the  august  presence  of  my  friend’s 
near  kinsman.  Lord  Snigworth.  And  suppose  I said  to 
that  venerable  earl,  ^ My  Lord,  I am  here  before  your 
lordship,  presented  by  your  lordship’s  near  kinsman, 
my  friend  upon  my  left,  to  indicate  that  programme  ; ’ 
what  would  his  lordship  answer  ? Why,  he  would  an- 
swer ' Away  with  it  ! ’ That’s  what  he  would  answer, 
gentlemen.  ' Away  with  it  ! ’ Unconsciously  using, 
in  his  exalted  sphere,  the  exact  language  of  the  worthy 
and  intelligent  tradesman  of  our  town,  the  near  and 
dear  kinsman  of  my  friend  upon  my  left  would  answer 
in  his  wrath,  ' Away  with  it  ! ’ '’ 

Veneering  finishes  with  this  last  success,  and  Mr. 
Podsnap  telegraphs  to  Mrs.  Veneering,  ^^He’s  down,” 


A PIECE  OF  WORK. 


269 


Then,  dinner  is  had  at  the  Hotel  with  the  legal  gen- 
tleman, and  then  there  are  in  due  succession,  nomina- 
tion, and  declaration.  Finally  Mr.  Podsnap  telegraphs 
to  Mrs.  Veneering,  We  have  brought  him  in/’ 

Another  gorgeous  dinner  awaits  them  on  their  return 
to  the  Veneering  halls,  and  Lady  Tippins  awaits  them, 
and  Boots  and  Brewer  await  them..  There  is  a modest 
assertion  on  everybody’s  part  that  everybody  single- 
handed  brought  him  in;”  but  in  the  main  it  is  con- 
ceded by  all,  that  that  stroke  of  business  on  Brewer’s 
part,  in  going  down  to  the  House  that  night  to  see  how 
things  looked,  was  the  master-stroke. 

A touching  little  incident  is  related  by  Mrs.  Veneer- 
ing, in  the  course  of  the  evening.  Mrs.  Veneering  is 
habitually  disposed  to  be  tearful,  and  has  an  extra  dis- 
position that  way  after  her  late  excitement.  Previous 
to  withdrawing  from  the  dinner-table  with.  Lady  Tip- 
pins,  she  says,  in  a pathetic  and  physically  weak  man- 
ner : 

‘^You  will  all  think  it  foolish  of  me,  I know,  but  I 
must  mention  it.  As  I sat  by  Baby’s  crib,  on  the  niglit 
before  the  election.  Baby  was  very  uneasy^ in  her  sleep.” 

The  Analytical  chemist,  who  is  gloomily,  looking  on, 
has  diabolical  impulses  to  suggest  Wind,”  and  throve 
up  his  situation  ; but  represses  them. 

After  an  interval  almost  convulsive,  Baby  curled 
her  little  hands  in  one  another  and  smiled.” 

Mrs.  Veneering  stopping  here,  Mr.  Podsnap  deems  it 
incumbent  on  him  to  say  : I wonder  why ! ” 

Could  it  be,  I asked  myself,”  says  Mrs.  Veneering, 
looking  about  her  for  her  pocket-handkerchief,/^  that 
the  Fairies  were  telling  Baby  that  her  papa  would 
shortly  be  an  M.  P.  ? ” 

So  overcome  by  the  sentiment  is  Mrs.  Veneering,  that 
they  all  get  up  to  make  a clear  stage  for  Veneering, 
who  goes  round  the  table  to  the  rescue,  and  bears  her 
out  backward,  with  her  feet  impressively  scraping  the 
carpet:  after  remarking  that  her  work  has  been  too 
much  for  her  strength.  Whether  the  fairies  made  any 
mention  of  the  five  thousand  pounds,  and  it  disagreed 
with  Baby,  is  not  speculated  upon. 

Poor  little  Twemlow,  quite  done  up,  is  touched,  and 
still  continues  touched  after  he  is  safely  housed  over 
the  livery-stable  yard  in  Duke  Street,  Saint  James’s. 


270 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


But  there,  upon  his  sofa,  a tremendous  consideration 
breaks  in  upon  the  mild  gentleman,  putting  all  softer 
considerations  to  the  rout. 

“ Gracious  heavens!  Now  I have  time  to  think  of  it, 
he  never  saw  one  of  his  constituents  in  all  his  days, 
until  we  saw  them  together!  ” 

After  having  paced  the  room  in  distress  of  mind,  with 
his  hand  to  his  forehead,  the  innocent  Twemlow  returns 
to  his  sofa  and  moans: 

“ I shall  either  go  distracted,  or  die,  of  this  man.  He 
comes  upon  me  too  late  in  life.  I am  not  strong  enough 
to  bear  Ixim!  ” 


CHAPTER  IV. 

CUPID  PROMPTED. 

TO  use  the  cold  language  of  the  world,  Mrs.  Alfred 
Lammle  rapidly  improved  the  acquaintance  of  Miss 
Podsnap.  To  use  the  warm  language  of  Mrs.  Lammle, 
she  and  her  sweet  Georgiana  soon  became  one:  in  heart, 
in  mind,  in  sentiment,  in  soul. 

Whenever  Georgiana  could  escape  from  the  thraldom 
of  Podsnappery;  could  throw  off  the  bedclothes  of  the 
custard-coloured  phaeton,  and  get  up;  could  shrink  out 
of  the  range  of  her  mother’s  rocking,  and  (so  to  speak) 
rescue  her  poor  little  frosty  toes  from  being  rocked 
over;  she  repaired  to  her  friend,  Mrs.  Alfred  Lammle. 
Mrs.  Podsnap  by  no  means  objected.  As  a conscienti- 
ously “splendid  woman,”  accustomed  to  overhear  her- 
self so  denominated  by  elderly  osteologists  pursuing 
their  studies  in  dinner  society,  Mrs.  Podsnap  could  dis- 
pense with  her  daughter.  Mr.  Podsnap,  for  his  part,  on 
being  informed  where  Georgiana  was,  swelled  with  pat- 
ronage of  the  Lammles.  That  they,  when  unable  to  lay 
hold  of  him,  should  respectfully  grasp  at  the  hem  of  his 
mantle;  that  they,  when  they  could  not  bask  in  the 
glory  of  him  the  sun,  should  take  up  with  the  pale  re- 
flected light  of  the  watery  young  moon  his  daughter; 
appeared  quite  natural,  becoming,  and  proper.  It  gave 
him  a better  opinion  of  the  discretion  of  the  Lammles 
than  he  had  heretofore  held,  as  showing  that  they  ap- 


CUPID  PROMPTED. 


271 


preciated  the  value  of  the  connection.  So,  Georgiana 
repairing  to  her  friend,  Mr.  Podsnap  went  out  to  dinner, 
and  to  dinner,  and  yet  to  dinner,  arm  in  arm  with  Mrs. 
Podsnap:  settling  his  obstinate  head  in  his  cravat  and 
shirt-collar,  much  as  if  he  were  performing  on  the  Pan- 
dean pipes,  in  his  own  honour,  the  triumphal  march. 
See  the  conquering  Podsnap  comes,  Sound  the  trumpets, 
beat  the  drums! 

It  was  a trait  in  Mr.  Podsnap’s  character  (and  in  one 
form  or  other  it  will  be  generally  seen  to  pervade  the 
depths  and  shallows  of  Podsnappery),  that  he  could  not 
endure  a hint  of  disparagement  of  any  friend  or 
acquaintance  of  his.  How  dare  you?’’  he  would 
seem  to  say  in  such  a case.  What  do  you  mean  ? I 
have  licensed  this  person.  This  person  has  taken  out 
my  certificate.  Through  this  person  you  strike  at  me, 
Podsnap  the  Great.  And  it  is  not  that  I particularly 
care  for  the  person’s  dignity,  but  that  I do  most  partic- 
ularly care  for  Podsnap’s.”  Hence,  if  any  one  in  his 
presence  had  presumed  to  doubt  the  responsibility  of 
the  Lammles,  he  would  have  been  mightily  huffed. 
Not  that  any  one  did,  for  Veneering,  M.  P.,  was  always 
the  authority  for  their  being  very  rich,  and  perhaps 
believed  it.  As  indeed  he  might,  if  he  chose,  for  any- 
thing he  knew  of  the  matter. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lammle’s  house  in  Sackville  Street, 
Piccadilly,  was  but  a temporary  residence.  It  had 
done  well  enough,  they  informed  their  friends,  for  Mr. 
Lammle  when  a bachelor,  but  it  would  not  do  now. 
So  they  were  always  looking  at  palatial  residences  in 
the  best  situations,  and  always  very  nearly  taking  or 
buying  one,  but  never  quite  concluding  the  bargain. 
Hereby  they  made  for  themselves  a shining  little  repu- 
tation apart.  People  said,  on  seeing  a vacant  palatial 
residence,  ^^The  very  thing  for  the  Lammles!”  and 
wrote  to  the  Lammles  about  it,  and  the  Lammles 
always  went  to  look  at  it,  but,  unfortunately,  it  never 
exactly  answered.  In  short,  they  suffered  so  many 
disappointments,  that  they  began  to  think  it  would  be 
necessary  to  build  a palatial  residence.  And  hereby 
they  made  another  shining  reputation ; many  persons 
of  their  acquaintance  becoming  by  anticipation  dissat- 
isfied with  their  own  houses,  and  envious  of  the  non- 
existent Lammle  structure. 


n% 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


The  handsome  fittings  and  furnishings  of  the  house 
in  Sackville  Street  were  piled  thick  and  high  over  the 
skeleton  up-stairs,  and  if  it  ever  whispered  from  under 
its  load  of  upholstery,  '^Here  I am  in  the  closet  !’’  it 
was  to  very'  few  ears,  and  certainly  never  to  Miss  Pod- 
snap’s.  What  Miss  Podsnap  was  particularly  charmed 
with,  next  to  the  graces  of  her  friend,  was  the  happi- 
ness of  her  friend’s  married  life.  This  was  frequently 
their  theme  of  conversation. 

I am  sure,”  said  Miss  Podsnap,  Mr.  Lammle  is  like 
a lover.  At  least  I — I should  think  he  was.” 

Georgiana  darling  ! ” said  Mrs.  Lammle,  holding  up 
a forefinger,  Take  care  ?” 

^^Oh  my  goodness  me!”  exclaimed  Miss  Podsnap,* 
reddening.  What  have  I said  now  ?” 

Alfred,  you  know,”  hinted  Mrs.  Lammle,  playfully 
shaking  her  head.  ^ Won  were  never  to  say  Mr.  Lammle 
any  more,  Georgiana.” 

'^Oh  ! Alfred,  then.  I am  glad  it’s  no  worse.  I was 
afraid  I had  said  something  shocking.  I am  always 
saying  something  wrong  to  ma.” 

'^To  me,  Georgiana  dearest  ?” 

''No,  not  to  you  ; you  are  not  ma.  I wish  you  were.” 

Mrs.  Lammle  bestowed  a sweet  and  loving  smile  upon 
her  friend,  which  Miss  Podsnap  returned  as  she  best 
could.  They  sat  at  lunch  in  Mrs.  Lammle’s  own  bou- 
doir. 

"And  so,  dearest  Georgiana,  Alfred  is  like  your 
notion  of  a lover  ? ” 

"I  don’t  say  that,  Sophronia,”  Georgiana  replied,  be- 
ginning to  conceal  her  elbows.  "I  haven’t  any  notion 
of  a lover.  The  dreadful  wretches  that  ma  brings  up 
at  places  to  torment  me  are  not  lovers.  I only  mean 
that  Mr. ” 

"Again,  dearest  Georgiana  ?” 

" That  Alfred ” 

" Sounds  much  better,  darling.” 

" — Loves  you  so.  He  always  treats  you  with  such 
delicate  gallantry  and  attention.  Now,  don’t  he  ? ” 

"Truly,  my  dear,”  said  Mrs.  Lammle,  with  a rather 
singular  expression  crossing  her  face.  " I believe  that 
he  loves  me  fully  as  much  as  I love  him.” 

" Oh,  what  happiness  !”  exlaimed  Miss  Podsnap. 

"But  do  you  know,  my  Georgiana,”  Mrs.  Lammle  re- 


CUPID  PROMPTED. 


273 


Burned  presently,  ^^that  there  is  something  suspicious 
in  your  enthusiastic  sympathy  with  Alfred’s  tender- 
ness ? ” 

Good  gracious  no,  I hope  not ! ” 

''  Doesn’t  it  rather  suggest,”  said  Mrs.  Lammle  archly, 

that  my  Georgiana’s  little  heart  is ” 

Oh  don’t  ! ” Miss  Podsnap  blushingly  besought  her. 

Please  don’t  ! I assure  you,  Sophronia,  that  I only 
praise  Alfred,  because  he  is  your  husband  and  so  fond 
of  you.” 

Sophronia’s  glance  was  as  if  a rather  new  light  broke 
in  upon  her.  It  shaded  off  into  a cool  smile,  as  she 
said,  with  her  eyes  upon  her  lunch,  and  her  eyebrows 
raised : 

You  are  quite  wrong,  my  love,  in  your  guess  at  my 
meaning.  What  I insinuated  was,  that  my  Georgiana’s 
little  heart  was  growing  conscious  of  a vacancy.” 

no,  no,”  said  Georgiana.  I wouldn’t  have 
anybody  say  anything  to  me  in  that  way  for  I don’t 
know  how  many  thousand  pounds.” 

‘'In  what  way,  my  Georgiana?”  inquired  Mrs. 
Lammle,  still  smiling  coolly,  with  her  eyes  upon  her 
lunch,  and  her  eyebrows  raised. 

“ You  know,”  returned  poor  little  Miss  Podsnap.  “I 
think  I should  go  out  of  my  mind,  Sophronia,  with 
vexation  and  shyness  and  detestation,  if  anybody  did. 
It’s  enough  for  me  to  see  how  loving  you  and  your  hus- 
band are.  That’s  a different  thing.  I couldn’t  bear  to 
have  anything  of  that  sort  going  on  with  myself.  I 
should  beg  and  pray  to — to  have  the  person  taken  away 
and  trampled  upon.” 

Ah!  here  was  Alfred.  Having  stolen  in  unobserved, 
he  playfully  leaned  on  the  back  of  Sophronia’s  chair, 
and,  as  Miss  Podsnap  saw  him,  put  one  of  Sophronia’s 
wandering  locks  to  his  lips,  and  waved  a kiss  from  it 
towards  Miss  Podsnap. 

“What  is  this  about  husbands  and  detestations?”  in- 
quired the  captivating  Alfred. 

“Why,  they  say,”  returned  his  wife,  “that  listeners 
never  hear  any  good  of  themselves;  though  you — but 
pray  how  long  have  you  been  here,  sir  ? ” 

“ This  instant  arrived,  my  own.” 

“ Then  I may  go  on — though  if  you  had  been  here 


VOL.  I. 


18 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


but  a moment  or  two  sooner,  you  would  have  heard 
your  praises  sounded  by  Georgiana.’’ 

Only,  if  they  were  to  be  called  praises  at  all,  which 
I really  don’t  think  they  were,”  explained  Miss  Pod- 
snap  in  a flutter,  for  being  so  devoted  to  Sophronia.” 

''Sophronia !”  murmured  Alfred.  My  life!”  and 
kissed  her  hand.  In  return  for  which  she  kissed  his 
watch-chain. 

But  it  was  not  I who  was  to  be  taken  away  and 
trampled  upon,  I hope  ?”  said  Alfred,  drawing  a seat 
between  them. 

Ask  Georgiana,  my  soul,”  replied  his  wufe. 

Alfred  touchingly  appealed  to  Georgiana. 

Oh,  it  was  nobody!”  replied  Miss  Podsnap.  It  was 
nonsense.” 

But  if  you  are  determined  to  know,  Mr.  Inquisitive 
Pet,  as  I suppose  you  are,”  said  the  happy  and  fond 
Sophronia,  smiling,  ^Gt  was  any  one  who  should  ven- 
ture to  aspire  to  Georgiana.” 

Sophronia,  my  love,”  remonstrated  Mr.  Lammle, 
becoming  graver,  you  are  not  serious  ?” 

Alfred,  my  love,”  returned  his  wife,  I dare  say 
Georgiana  was  not,  but  I am.” 

Now  this,”  said  Mr.  Lammle,  ‘^Ghows  the  accidental 
combinations  that  there  are  in  things  ! Could  you  be- 
lieve, my  Ownest,  that  I came  in  here  with  the  name  of 
an  aspirant  to  our  Georgiana  on  my  lips  ? ” 

Of  course  I could  believe,  Alfred”  said  Mrs.  Lam- 
mle, anything  that  you  told  me.” 

^^You  dear  one!  And  I anything  that  you  told 
me.” 

How  delightful  those  interchanges,  and  the  looks 
accompanying  them.  Now,  if  the  skeleton  up-stairs 
had  taken  that  opportunity,  for  instance,  of  calling  out 

Here  I am,  suffocating  in  the  closet !” 

I give  you  my  honour,  my  dear  Sophronia ” 

And  I know  what  that  is,  love,”  said  she. 

'^You  do,  my  darling — that  I came  into  the  room 
all  but  uttering  young  Fledgeby’s  name.  Tell  Georgi- 
ana, dearest,  about  young  Fledgeby.” 

^^Oh  no,  don’t  ! Please  don’t !”  cried  Miss  Podsnap, 
putting  her  Angers  in  her  ears.  I’d  rather  not.” 

Mrs.  Lammle  laughed  in  her  gayest  manner,  and,  re- 
moving her  Georgiana’s  unresisting  hands,  and  play- 


CUPID  PROMPTED. 


275 


fully  holding  them  in  her  own  at  arm’s  length,  sometimes 
near  together  and  sometimes  wide  apart,  went  on  : 

'^You  must  know,  you  dearly-beloved  little  goose, 
that  once  upon  a time  there  was  a certain  person  called 
young  Fledgeby.  And  this  young  Fledgeby,  who  was 
of  an  excellent  family  and  rich,  was  known  to  two  other 
certain  persons,  dearly  attached  to  one  another,  and 
called  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Alfred  Lammle.  So  this  young 
Fledgeby,  being  one  night  at  the  play,  there  sees  with 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Alfred  Lammle,  a certain  heroine  called — ” 
No,  don’t  say  Georgiana  Podsnap  ! ” pleaded  that 
young  lady  almost  in  tears.  Please  don’t  ! Oh  do  do 
do  say  somebody  else  ! Not  Georgiana  Podsnap.  Oh 
don’t,  don’t,  don’t  !” 

•'No  other,”  said  Mrs.  Lammle,  laughing  airily,  and, 
full  of  affectionate  blandishments,  opening  and  closing 
Georgiana’s  arms  like  a pair  of  compasses,  "than my 
little  Georgiana  Podsnap.  So  this  young  Fledgeby 
goes  to  that  Alfred  Lammle  and  says — ” 

"Oh,  ple-e-e-ease  don’t  !”  cried  Georgiana,  as  if  the 
supplication  were  being  squeezed  out  of  her  by  power- 
ful compression.  " I so  hate  him  for  saying  it ! ” 

" For  saying  what  ? ” laughed  Mrs.  Lammle. 

" Oh,  I don’t  know  what  he  said,”  cried  Georgiana 
wildly,  " but  I hated  him  all  the  same  for  saying  it.” 

"My  dear,”  said  Mrs.  Lammle,  always  laughing  in 
her  most  captivating  Avay,  "the  poor  young  fellow 
only  says  that  he  is  stricken  all  of  a heap.”  . 

" Oh,  what  shall  I ever  do  ! ” interposed  Georgiana. 
" Oh  my  goodness  what  a Fool  he  must  be  ! ” 

" — And  implores  to  be  asked  to  dinner,  and  to  make 
a fourth  at  the  play  another  time.  And  so  he  dines  to- 
morrow and  goes  to  the  Opera  with  us.  That’s  all. 
Except,  my  dear  Georgiana — and  what  will  you  think 
of  this  ? — that  he  is  infinitely  shyer  than  you,  and  far 
more  afraid  of  you  than  you  ever  were  of  any  one  in  all 
your  days.” 

In  perturbation  of  mind.  Miss  Podsnap  still  fumed  and 
plucked  at  her  hands  a little,  but  could  not  help  laugh- 
ing at  the  notion  of  anybody’s  being  afraid  of  her. 
With  that  advantage,  Sophronia  flattered  her  and  ral- 
lied her  more  successfully,  and  then  the  insinuating  Al- 
fred flattered  her  and  rallied  her,  and  promised  that  at 
any  moment  when  she  might  require  that  service  at  his 


276 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


hands^  he  would  take  young  Fledgeby  out  and  trample 
on  him.  Thus  it  remained  amicably  understood  that 
young  Fledgeby  was  to  come  to  admire,  and  that  Geor- 
ginana  was  to  come  to  be  admired  ; and  Georgiana  with 
the  entirely  new  sensation  in  her  breast  of  having  that 
prospect  before  her,  and  with  many  kisses  from  her 
dear  Sophronia  in  present  possession,  preceded  six  feet 
one  of  discontented  footman  (an  amount  of  the  article 
that  always  came  for  her  when  she  walked  home)  to 
her  father’s  dwelling. 

The  happy  pair  being  left  together,  Mrs.  Lammle  said 
to  her  husband  : 

If  I understand  this  girl,  sir,  your  dangerous  fasci- 
nations have  produced  some  effect  upon  her.  I mention 
the  conquest  in  good  time,  because  I apprehend  your 
scheme  to  be  more  important  to  you  than  your  vanity.” 

There  was  a mirror  on  the  wall  before  them,  and  her 
eyes  just  caught  him  smirking  in  it.  She  gave  the  re- 
flected image  a look  of  the  deepest  disdain,  and  the  im- 
age received  it  in  the  glass.  Next  moment  they  quietly 
eyed  each  other,  as  if  they,  the  principals,  had  had  no 
part  in  that  expressive  transaction. 

It  may  have  been  that  Mrs.  Lammle  tried  in  some 
manner  to  excuse  her  conduct  to  herself  by  depreciat- 
ing the  poor  little  victim  of  whom  she  spoke  with  acri- 
monious contempt.  It  jnay  have  been  too  that  in  this 
she  did  not  quite  succeed,  for  it  is  very  difficult  to  resist 
confidence,  and  she  knew  she  had  Georgiana’s. 

Nothing  more  was  said  between  the  happy  pair.  Per- 
haps conspirators  who  have  once  established  an  under- 
standing may  not  be  overfond  of  repeating  the  terms 
and  objects  of  their  conspiracy.  Next  day  came  ; came 
Georgiana  ; and  came  Fledgeby. 

Georgiana  had  by  this  time  seen  a good  deal  of  the 
house  and  its  frequenters.  As  there  was  a certain  hand- 
some room  with  a billiard  table  in  it — on  the  ground 
floor,  eating  out  a back  yard — which  might  have  been 
Mr.  Lammle’s  office,  or  library,  but  was  called  by  neither 
name,  but  simply  Mr.  Lammle’s  room,  so  it  would  have 
been  hard  for  stronger  female  heads  than  Georgiana’s 
to  determine  whether  its  frequenters  were  men  of  pleas- 
ure or  men  of  business.  Between  the  room  and  the  men 
there  were  strong  points  of  general  resemblance.  Both 
were  too  gaudy,  too  slangy,  too  odorous  of  cigars,  and 


CUPID  PROMPTED. 


277 


too  much  given  to  horse  flesh  ; the  latter  characteristic 
being  exemplifled  in  the  room  by  its  decorations,  and  in 
the  men  by  their  conversation.  High-stepping  horses 
seemed  necessary  to  all  Mr.  Lammle’s  friends — as  neces- 
sary as  their  transaction  of  business  together  in  a gipsy 
way  at  untimely  hours  of  the  morning  and  evening,  and 
in  rushes  and  snatches.  There  were  friends  who  seemed 
to  be  always  coming  and  going  across  the  Channel,  on 
errands  about  the  Bourse,  and  Greek  and  Spanish  and 
India  and  Mexican  and  par  and  premium  and  discount 
and  three-quarters  and  seven-eighths.  There  v/ere  other 
friends  who  seemed  to  be  always  lolling  and  lounging 
in  and  out  of  the  City,  on  questions  of  the  Bourse,  and 
Greek  and  Spanish  and  India  and  Mexican  and  par  and 
premium  and  discount  and  three-quarters  and  seven- 
eighths.  They  were  all  feverish,  boastful,  and  inde- 
finably loose  ; and  they  all  ate  and  drank  a great  deal ; 
and  made  bets  in  eating  and  drinking.  They  all  spoke 
of  sums  of  money,  and  only  mentioned  the  sums  and 
left  the  money  to  be  understood  ; as  five  and  forty 
thousand  Tom,’’  or  Two  hundred  and  tv/enty-two  on 
every  individual  share  in  the  lot  Joe.”  They  seemed  to 
divide  the  world  into  two  classes  of  people  ; people  who 
were  making  enormous  fortunes,  and  people  who  were 
being  enormously  ruined.  They  were  always  in  a 
hurry,  and  yet  seemed  to  have  nothing  tangible  to  do  : 
except  a few  of  them  (these,  mostly  asthmatic  and  thick- 
lipped)  who  were  forever  demonstrating  to  the  rest,  with 
gold-pencil  cases  which  they  could  hardly  hold  because 
of  the  big  rings  on  their  forefingers,  how  money  was  to 
be  made.  Lastly,  they  all  swore  at  their  grooms,  and 
the  grooms  were  not  quite  as  respectful  or  complete 
^s  other  men’s  grooms  ; seeming  somehow  to  fall  short 
of  the  groom  point  as  their  masters  fell  short  of  the  gen- 
tleman point. 

Young  Fledgeby  was  none  of  these.  Young  Fledgeby 
had  a peachy  cheek,  or  a cheek  compoux_  ^ed  of  the 
peach  and  the  red  red  red  wall  on  which  it  grows,  and 
was  an  awkward,  sandy-haired,  small-eyed  youth,  ex- 
ceeding slim  (his  enemies  would  have  said  lanky),  and 
prone  to  self-examination  in  the  articles  of  whisker  and 
moustache.  While  feeling  for  the  whisker  that  he 
anxiously  expected,  Fledgeby  underwent  remarkable 
fluctuations  of  spirits,  ranging  along  the  whole  scale 


278 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


from  confidence  to  despair.  There  were  times  when  he 
started,  as  exclaiming  ‘‘By  Jupiter,  here  it  is  at  last  I” 
There  were  other  times  when,  being  equally  depressed, 
he  would  be  seen  to  shake  his  head,  and  give  up  hope. 
To  see  him  at  those  periods  leaning  on  a chimneypiece, 
like  as  on  an  urn  containing  the  ashes  of  his  ambition, 
with  the  cheek  that  would  not  sprout,  upon  the  hand  on 
which  that  cheek  had  forced  conviction,  was  a distress- 
ing sight. 

Not  so  was  Fledgeby  seen  on  this  occasion.  Arrayed 
in  superb  raiment,  with  his  opera  hat  under  his  arm,  he 
concluded  his  self-examination  hopefully,  awaited  the 
arrival  of  Miss  Podsnap,  and  talked  small-talk  with 
Mrs.  Lammle.  In  facetious  homage  to  the  smallness  of 
his  talk,  and  the  jerky  nature  of  his  manners,  Fledge- 
by’s  familiars  had  agreed  to  confer  upon  him  (behind 
his  back)  the  honorary  title  of  Fascination  Fledgeby. 

^^  Warm  weather,  Mrs.  Lammle,”  said  Fascination 
Fledgeby.  Mrs.  Lammle  thought  it  scarely  as  warm  as 
*it  had  been  yesterday.  Perhaps  not,”  said  Fascination 
Fledgeby,  with  great  quickness  of  repartee;  ^^but  I ex- 
pect it  will  be  devilish  warm  to-morrow.” 

He  threw  off  another  little  scintillation.  Been  out 
to-day,  Mrs.  Lammle  ? ” 

Mrs.  Lammle  answered.  For  a short  drive. 

'^Some  people,”  said  Fascination  Fledgeby,  ''are  ac- 
customed to  take  long  drives;  but  it  generally  appears 
to  me  that  if  they  make  ’em  too  long,  they  overdo  it.” 

Being  in  such  feather,  he  might  have  surpassed  him- 
self in  his  next  sally,  had  not  Miss  Podsnap  been  an- 
nounced. Mrs.  Lammle  flew  to  embrace  her  darling 
little  Georgy,  and,  when  the  first  transports  were  over, 
presented  Mr.  Fledgeby.  Mr.  Lammle  came  on  the^ 
scene  last,  for  he  was  always  late,  and  so  were  the  fre-* 
quenters  always  late;  all  hands  being  bound  to  be  made 
late,  by  private  information  about  the  Bourse,  and  Greek 
and  Spanish  and  India  and  Mexican  and  par  and  pre- 
mium and  discount  and  three-quarters  and  seven-eights. 

A handsome  little  dinner  was  served  immediately, 
and  Mr.  Lammle  sat  sparkling  at  his  end  of  the  table, 
with  his  servant  behind  his  chair,  and  his  ever-linger- 
ing doubts  upon  the  subject  of  his  wages  behind  him- 
self. Mr.  Lammle’s  utmost  powers  of  sparkling  were  in 
requisition  to-day,  for  Fascination  Fledgeby  and  Geor- 


CUPID  PROMPTED. 


279 


giana  not  only  struck  each  other  speechless,  but  struck 
each  other  into  astonishing  attitudes.  Georgiana,as  she 
sat  facing  Fledgeby,  making  such  efforts  to  conceal  her 
elbows  as  were  totally  incompatible  with  the  use  of  a 
knife  and  fork;  and  Fledgeby,  as  he  sat  facing  Georgi- 
ana,  avoiding  her  countenance  by  every  possible  device, 
and  betraying  the  discomposure  of  his  mind  in  feeling 
for  his  whiskers  with  his  spoon,  his  wine  glass,  and  his 
bread. 

So,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Alfred  Lammle  had  to  prompt,  and 
this  is  how  they  prompted. 

Georgiana,’^said  Mr.  Lammle,  low  and  smiling,  and 
sparkling  all  over,  like  a harlequin;  you  are  not  in  your 
usual  spirits.  Why  are  you  not  in  your  usual  spirits, 
Georgiana  ? ” 

Georgiana  faltered  that  she  was  much  the  same  as 
she  was  in  general;  she  was  not  aware  of  being  differ- 
ent. 

Not  aware  of  being  different!^’  retorted  Mr.  Alfred 
Lammle.  You,  my  dear  Georgiana!  who  are  always 
so  natural  and  unconstrained  v/ith  us!  who  are  such  a 
relief  from  the  crowd  that  are  all  alike ! who  are  the 
embodiment  of  gentleness,  simplicity,  and  reality ! ' ’ 

Miss  Podsnap  looked  at  the  door,  as  if  she  entertained 
confused  thoughts  of  taking  refuge  from  these  compli- 
ments in  flight. 

^^Now,  I will  be  judged,’’  said  Lammle,  raising  his 
voice  a little,  ^^by  my  friend  Fledgeby.” 

^‘^Oh  don’t!”  Miss  Podsnap  faintly  ejaculated:  when 
Mrs,  Lammle  took  the  prompt-book. 

beg  your  pardon,  Alfred,  my  dear,  but  I cannot 
part  with  Mr.  Fledgeby  quite  yet;  you  must  wait  for 
him  a moment.  Mr.  Fledgeby  and  I are  engaged  in  a 
personal  discussion.” 

Fledgeby  must  have  conducted  it  on  his  side  with  im- 
mense art,  for  no  appearance  of  uttering  one  syllable 
had  escaped  him. 

A personal  discussion,  Sophronia,  my  love  ? What 
discussion  ? Fledgeby,  I am  jealous.  What  discussion, 
Fledgeby?  ” 

Shall  I tell  him,  Mr.  Fledgeby?”  asked  Mrs. 
Lammle. 

Trying  to  look  as  if  he  knew  anything  about  it,  Fas- 
cination replied,  ^Wes,  tell  him.” 


280 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


We  were  discussing,  then,’^  said  Mrs.  Lanimle,  ^^if 
you  must  know,  Alfred,  whether  Mr.  Fledgeby  was  in 
his  usual  flow  of  spirits.’’ 

^^Why,  that  is  the  very  point,  Sophronia,  that 
Georgiana  and  I were  discussing  as  to  herself!  What 
did  Fledgeby  say?” 

^^Oh,a  likely  thing,  sir,  that  lam  going  to  tell  you  every- 
thing, and  be  told  nothing!  What  did  Georgiana  say  ? ” 

Georgiana  said  she  was  doing  her  usual  justice  to 
herself  to-day,  and  I said  she  was  not.” 

Precisely,”  exclaimed  Mrs.  Lammle,  ^^what  I said 
to  Mr.  Fledgeby.” 

Still,  it  wouldn’t  do.  They  would  not  look  at  one  an- 
other. No,  not  even  when  the  sparkling  host  proposed 
that  the  quartette  should  take  an  appropriately  sparkling 
glass  of  wine.  Georgiana  looked  from  her  wine  glass 
at  Mr.  Lammle  and  at  Mrs.  Lammle;  but  mightn’t, 
couldn’t,  shouldn’t,  wouldn’t,  look  at  Mr.  Fledgeby. 
Fascination  looked  from  his  wine  glass  at  Mrs.  Lammle 
and  at  Mr.  Lammle;  but  mightn’t,  couldn’t,  shouldn’t 
wouldn’t,  look  a.t  Georgiana. 

More  prompting  was  necessary.  Cupid  must  be 
brought  up  to  the  mark.  The  manager  had  put  him 
down  in  the  bill  for  the  part,  and  he  must  play  it. 

Sophronia,  my  dear,”  said  Mr.  Lammle,  don’t 
like  the  colour  of  your  dress.” 

I appeal,”  said  Mrs.  Lammle,  to  Mr.  Fledgeby.” 

And  I,”  said  Mr.  Lammle,  to  Georgiana.” 

Georgy,  my  love,”  remarked  Mrs.  Lammle  aside  to 
her  dear  girl,  I rely  upon  you  not  to  go  over  to  the  op- 
position. Now,  Mr.  Fledgeby.” 

Fascination  wished  to  know  if  the  colour  were  not 
called  rose-colour?  Yes,  said  Mr.  Lammle;  actually  he 
knev/  everything;  it  was  really  rose-colour.  Fascina- 
tion took  rose-colour  to  mean  the  colour  of  roses.  (In 
this  he  was  very  warmly  supported  by  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Lammle.)  Fascination  had  heard  the  term  Queen  of 
Flowers  applied  to  the  Rose.  Similarly,  it  might  be  said 
that  the  Dress  was  the  Queen  of  Dresses.  Very  happy, 
Fledgeby!”  from  Mr.  Lammle.)  Notwithstanding, 
Fascination’s  opinion  was  that  we  all  had  our  eyes — or 
at  least  a large  majority  of  us — and  that — and — and  his 
further  opinion  was  several  ands,  with  nothing  beyond 
them. 


CUPID  PROMPTED. 


281 


Oh,  Mr.  Fledgeby,”  said  Mrs.  Lanf!nle,  desert 
me  in  that  way  ! Oh,  Mr.  Fledgeby,  to  abandon  my 
poor  dear  injured  rose,  and  declare  for  blue 

Victory,  victory!’’  cried  Mr.  Lammle ; your  dress 
is  condemned,  my  dear.” 

^^But  what,”  said  Mrs.  Lammle,  stealing  her  affec- 
tionate hand  towards  her  dear  girl’s,  '‘  what  does 
Georgy  say  ? . 

" She  says,”  replied  Mr.  Lammle,  interpreting  for  her, 
"that  in  her  eyes  you  look  well  in  any  colour,  Soph- 
ronia,  and  that,  if  she  had  expected  to  be  embarrassed 
by  so  pretty  a compliment  as  she  has  received,  she 
would  have  worn  another  colour  herself.  Though 
I tell  her,  in  reply,  that  it  would  not  have  saved  her, 
for  whatever  colour  she  had  worn  would  have  been 
Fledgeby’s  colour.  But  what  does  Fledgeby  say  ? ” 

"He  says,”  replied,  Mrs.  Lammle,  interpreting  for 
him,  and  patting  the  back  of  her  dear  girl’s  hand,  as  if 
it  were  Fledgeby  who  was  patting  it,  "that  it  was  no 
compliment,  but  a little  natural  act  of  homage  that 
he  couldn’t  resist.  And,”  expressing  more,  feeling  as 
if  it  were  more  feeling  on  the  part  of  Fledgeby,  "he  is 
right,  he  is  right  1 ” 

Still,  no,  not  even  now,  would  they  look  at  one 
another.  Seeming  to  gnash  his  sparkling  teeth,  studs, 
eyes,  and  buttons  all  at  once,  Mr.  Lammle  secretly 
bent  a dark  frown  on  the  two,  expressive  of  an  intense 
desire  to  bring  them  together  by  knocking  their  heads 
together. 

"Have  you  heard  this  opera  of  to-night,  Fledgeby  ?” 
he  asked,  stopping  very  short,  to  prevent  himself  from 
running  on  into  " confound  you  ! ” 

"Why,  no,  not  exactly,”  said  Fledgeby.  "In  fact,  I 
don’t  know  a note  of  it.” 

" Neither  do  you  know  it,  Georgy,”  said  Mrs.  Lam- 
mle. 

"N-o.”  replied  Georgiana  faintly,  under  the  sympa- 
thetic coincidence. 

"Why,  then,”  said  Mrs.  Lammle,  charmed  by  the  dis-. 
CO  very  which  flowed  from  the  premises,  "you  neither 
of  you  know  it ! How  charming  ! ” 

Even  the  craven  Fledgeby  felt  that  the  time  was  now 
come  when  he  must  strike  a blow.  He  struck  it  by  say- 
ing, partly  to  Mrs,  Lammle  and  partly  to  the  circuuu 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


ambient  air,  f consider  myself  very  fortunate  in  being 
reserved  by ” 

As  he  stopped  dead,  Mr.  Lammle,  making  that  ginger- 
ous  bush  of  his  whiskers  to  look  out  of,  offered  him  the 
word  Destiny.'’ 

^^No,  I wasn’t  going  to  say  that,”  said  Fledgeby. 
was  going  to  say  Fate.  I consider  it  very  fortunate  that 
Fate  has  written  in  the  book  of — in  the  book  which  is 
its  own  property — that  I should  go  to  that  opera  for  the 
first  time  under  the  memorable  circumstances  of  going 
with  Miss  Podsnap.” 

To  which  Georgiana  replied,  hooking  her  two  little 
fingers  in  one  another,  and  addressing  the  table-cloth. 

Thank  you,  but  I generally  go  with  no  one  but  you, 
Sophronia,  and  I like  that  very  much.” 

Content  perforce  with  this  success  for  the  time,  Mr. 
Lammle  let  Miss  Podsnap  out  of  the  room,  as  if  he  were 
opening  her  cage  door,  and  Mrs.  Lammle  followed. 
Coffee  being  presently  served  upstairs,  he  kept  a watch 
on  Fledgeby  until  Miss  Podsnap’s  cup  was  empty,  and 
then  directed  him  with  his  finger  (as  if  that  young 
gentleman  were  a slow  Retriever)  to  go  and  fetch  it. 
This  feat  he  performed,  not  only  without  failure,  but 
even  with  the  original  embellishment  of  informing  Miss 
Podsnap  that  green  tea  was  considered  bad  for  the 
nerves.  Though  there  Miss  Podsnap  unintentionally 
threw  him  out  by  faltering,  ^^Oh,  is  it  indeed  ? How 
does  it  act  ? ” Which  he  was  not  prepared  to  eluci- 
date. 

The  carriage  announced,  Mrs.  Lammle  said,  Don’t 
mind  me,  Mr.  Fledgeby,  my  skirts  and  cloak  occupy 
both  my  hands,  take  Miss  Podsnap.”  And  he  took  her, 
and  Mrs.  Lammle  went  next,  and  Mr.  Lammle  went 
last,  savagely  following  his  little  flock,  like  a drover. 

But  he  was  all  sparkle  and  glitter  in  the  box  at  the 
Opera,  and  there  he  and  his  dear  wife  made  a conver- 
sation between  Fledgeby  and  Georgiana  in  the  follow- 
ing ingenious  and  skilful  manner.  They  sat  in  this 
order  : Mrs.  Lammle,  Fascination  Fledgeby,  Georgiana, 
Mr.  Lammle.  Mrs.  Lammle  made  leading  remarks  to 
Fledgeby,  only  requiring  monosyllabic  replies.  Mr. 
Lammle  did  the  like  with  Georgiana.  At  times  Mrs. 
Lammle  would  lean  forward  to  address  Mr,  Lammle  to 
this  purpose, 


CUPID  PROMPTED. 


m 


Alfred,  my  dear,  Mr.  Fledgeby  very  justly  says, 
apropos  of  the  last  scene,  that  true  constancy  would  not 
require  any  such  stimulant  as  the  stage  deems  neces- 
sary.’’ To  which  Mr.  Lammle  would  reply,  Ay,  So- 
phronia,  my  love,  but  as  Georgiana  has  observed  to  me, 
the  lady  had  no  sufficient  reason  to  know  the  state  of 
the  gentleman’s  affections.”  To  which  Mrs.  Lammle 
would  rejoin,  ^^Very  true,  Alfred;  but  Mr.  Fledgeby 
points  out,”  this.  To  which  Alfred  would  demur:  ^^Un- 
doubtedly, Sophronia,  but  Georgiana  acutely  remarks,” 
that.  Through  this  device  the  two  young  people  con- 
versed at  great  length  and  committed  themselves  to  a 
variety  of  delicate  sentiments,  without  having  once 
opened  their  lips,  save  to  say  yes  or  no,  and  even  that 
not  to  one  another. 

Fledgeby  took  his  leave  of  Miss  Podsnap  at  the  car- 
riage door,  and  the  Lammles  dropped  her  at  her  own 
home,  and  on  the  way  Mrs.  Lammle  archly  rallied  her, 
in  her  fond  and  protecting  manner,  by  saying  at  inter- 
vals, Oh  little  Georgiana,  little  Georgiana  !”  Which 
was  not  much;  but  the  tone  added,  ^ Wou  have  enslaved 
your  Fledgeby.” 

And  thus  the  Lammles  got  home  at  last,  and  the  lady 
sat  down  moody  and  weary,  looking  at  her  dark  lord 
engaged  in  a deed  of  violence  with  a bottle  of  soda- 
water,  as  though  he  were  wringing  the  neck  of  some  un- 
lucky creature,  and  pouring  its  blood  down  his  throat. 
As  he  wiped  his  dripping  whiskers  in  an  ogreish  way, 
he  met  her  eyes,  and  pausing,  said,  with  no  very  gentle 
voice: 

Well  ?” 

‘‘Was  such  an  absolute  Booby  necessary  to  the  pur- 
pose ?” 

“ I know  what  I am  doing.  He  is  no  such  dolt  as  you 
suppose.” 

“ A genius,  perhaps  ? ” 

“You  sneer,  perhaps;  and  you  take  a lofty  air  upon 
yourself,  perhaps  ! But  I tell  you  this: — when  that 
young  fellow’s  interest  is  concerned,  he  holds  as  tight  as 
a horseleech.  When  money  is  in  question  with  that 
young  fellow,  he  is  a match  for  the  Devil.” 

“ Is  he  a match  for  you?” 

“ He  is.  Almost  as  good  a one  as  you  thought  me  for 
you.  He  has  no  quality  of  youth  in  him,  but  such  as 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


284 


you  have  seen  to-day.  Touch  him  upon  money,  and 
you  touch  no  booby  then.  He  really  is  a dolt,  I suppose,  in 
other  things;  but  it  answers  his  one  purpose  very  Vvelh” 
‘^^*Has  she  money  in  her  own  right  in  any  case?” 

Ay!  she  has  money  in  her  own  right  in  any  case. 
You  have  done  so  well  to-day,  Sophronia,  that  I answer 
the  question,  though  you  know  I object  to  any  such 
questions.  You  have  done  so  well  to-day,  Sophronia, 
that  you  must  be  tired.  Get  to  bed.” 


CHAPTER  V. 

MERCURY  PROMPTING. 

FLEDGEBY  deserved  Mr.  Alfred  Lammle’s  eulogium. 

He  was  the  meanest  cur  existing  with  a single  pair 
of  legs.  And  instinct  (a  word  we  all  clearly  understand) 
going  largely  on  four  legs,  and  reason  always  on  two, 
meanness  on  four  legs  never  attains  the  perfection  of 
meanness  on  two. 

The  father  of  this  young  gentleman  had  been  a money- 
lender, who  had  transacted  professional  business  with 
the  mother  of  this  young  gentleman,  when  he,  the  latter, 
was  waiting  in  the  vast  dark  ante-chambers  of  the 
present  world  to  be  born.  The  lady,  a widow,  being 
unable  to  pay  the  money-lender,  married  him,  and  in 
due  course,  Fledgeby  was  summoned  out  of  the  vast 
dark  ante-chambers  to  come  and  be  presented  to  the 
Register-General.  Rather  a curious  speculation  how 
Fledgeby  would  otherwise  have  disposed  of  his  leisure 
until  Doomsday. 

Fledgeby’s  mother  offended  her  family  by  marrying 
Fledgeby’s  father.  It  is  one  of  the  easiest  achievements 
in  life  to  offend  your  family  when  your  family  want  to 
get  rid  of  you.  Fledgeby’s  mother’s  family  had  been 
very  much  offended  with  her  for  being  poor,  and  broke 
with  her  for  becoming  comparatively  rich.  Fledgeby’s 
mother’s  family  was  the  Snigsworth  family.  She  had 
even  the  high  honour  to  be  cousin  to  Lord  Snigsw  orth — 
so  many  times  removed  that  the  noble  Earl  would  have 
had  no  compunction  in  removing  her  one  time  more, 


285 


MERCURY  PROMPTING 

and  dropping  her  clean  outside  the  cousinly  pale;  but 
cousin  for  all  that. 

Among  her  pre-matrimonial  speculations  with  Fledge- 
by's  father,  Fledgeby’s  mother  had  raised  money  of 
him  at  a great  disadvantage  on  a certain  reversionary 
interest.  The  reversion  falling  in  soon  after  they  were 
married,  Fledgeby’s  father  laid  hold  of  the  cash  for  his 
separate  use  and  benefit.  This  led  to  subjective  differ- 
ences of  opinion,  not  to  say  objective  interchanges  of 
boot-jacks,  backgammon  boards,  and  other  such  domes- 
tic missiles  between  Fledgeby’s  father  and  Fledgeby’s 
mother,  and  those  led  to  Fled^eby’s  mother  spending 
as  much  money  as  she  could,  and  to  Fledgeby’s  father 
doing  all  he  could  to  restrain  her.  Fledgeby’s  child- 
hood had  been,  in  consequence,  a stormy  one;  but  the 
winds  and  the  waves  had  gone  down  in  the  grave,  and 
Fledgeby  flourished  alone. 

He  lived  in  chambers  in  the  Albany,  did  Fledgeby, 
and  maintained  a spruce  appearance.  But  his  youthful 
fire  was  all  composed  of  sparks  from  the  grindstone  ; 
and  as  the  sparks  flew  off,  went  out,  and  never  warmed 
anything,  be  sure  that  Fledgeby  had  his  tools  at  the 
grindstone,  and  turned  it  with  a wary  eye. 

Mr.  Alfred  Lammle  came  round  to  the  Albany  to 
breakfast  with  Fledgeby.  Present  on  the  table,  one 
scanty  pot  of  tea,  one  scanty  loaf,  two  scanty  pats  of 
butter,  two  scanty  rashers  of  bacon,  two  pitiful  eggs, 
and  an  abundance  of  handsome  china  bought  a second- 
hand bargain. 

^^What  did  you  think  of  Georgiana  asked  Mr. 
Lammle. 

‘^Why,  ril  tell  you,’’  said  Fledgeby,  very  deliber- 
ately. 

Do,  my  boy.” 

You  misunderstand  me,”  said  Fledgeby.  don’t 
mean  I’ll  tell  you  that.  I mean  I’ll  tell  you  something 
else.” 

Tell  me  anything,  old  fellow  !” 

Ah  ! but  there  you  misunderstand  me  again,”  said 
Fledgeby.  I mean  I’ll  tell  you  nothing.” 

Mr.  Lammle  sparkled  at  him,  but  frowned  at  him 
too. 

Look  here,”  said  Fledgeby.  You’re  deep  and 
you’re  ready.  Whether  I am  deep  or  not,  never  mind. 


286 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


I am  not  ready.  But  I can  do  one  thing,  Lammle,  I can 
hold  my  tongue.  And  I intend  always  doing  it.” 

‘‘You  are  a long-headed  fellow,  Fledgeby.” 

“Maybe,  or  may  not  be.  If  I am  a short-tongued 
fellow,  it  may  amount  to  the  same  thing.  Now, 
Lammle,  I am  never  going  to  answer  questions.” 

“ My  dear  fellow,  it  was  the  simplest  question  in  the 
world.” 

“Nevermind.  It  seemed  so,  but  things  are  not  al- 
ways what  they  seem.  I saw  a man  examined  as  a 
witness  in  Westminster  Hall.  Questions  put  to  him 
seemed  the  simplest  in  ^e  world,  but  turned  out  to  be 
anything  rather  than  that,  after  he  had  answered  ’em. 
Very  well.  Then  he  should  have  held  his  tongue.  If 
he  had  held  his  tongue  he  would  have  kept  out  of  scrapes 
that  he  got  into.” 

“If  I had  held  my  tongue,  you  would  never  have 
seen  the  subject  of  my  question,”  remarked  Lammle, 
darkening. 

“Now,  Lammle,”  said  Fascination  Fledgeby,  calmly 
feeling  for  his  whisker,  “ it  won’t  do.  I won’t  be  led  on 
into  a discussion.  “ can’t  manage  a discussion.  But  I 
can  manage  to  hold  my  tongue.” 

“ Can  ?”  Mr.  Lammle  fell  back  upon  propitiation.  “ I 
should  think  you  could  ! Why,  when  these  fellows  of 
our  acquaintance  drink,  and  you  drink  with  them,  the 
more  talkative  they  get,  the  more  silent  you  get.  The 
more  they  let  out,  the  more  you  keep  in.” 

“ I don’t  object,  Lammle,”  returned  Fledgeby,  with 
an  internal  chuckle,  “ to  being  understood,  though  I ob- 
ject to  being  questioned.  That  certainly  is  the  way  I 
do  it.” 

“ And  when  all  the  rest  of  us  are  discussing  our  ven- 
tures, none  of  us  ever  know  what  a single  venture  of 
yours  is ! ” 

“ And  none  of  you  ever  will  from  me,  Lammle,”  re- 
plied Fledgeby,  with  another  internal  chuckle;  “that 
certainly  is  the  way  I do  it  ? ” 

“Why  of  course  it  is,  I know!”  rejoined  Lammle, 
with  a flourish  of  frankness,  and  a laugh,  and  stretch- 
ing out  his  hands  as  if  to  show  the  universe  a remark- 
able man  in  Fledgeby.  “If  I hadn’t  known  it  of  my 
Fledgeby,  should  I have  proposed  our  little  compact  of 
advantage  to  my  Fledgeby  ? ” 


MERCURY  PROMPTING. 


287 


'Ah  ! ” remarked  Fascination,  shaking  his  head  slyly. 

But  I am  not  to  be  got  at  in  that  way.  I am  not  vain. 
That  sort  of  vanity  don’t  pay,  Lammle.  No,  no,  no. 
Compliments  only  make  me  hold  my  tongue  the  more.” 

Alfred  Lammle  pushed  his  plate  away  (no  great 
sacrifice  under  the  circumstances  of  there  being  so  little 
in  it),  thrust  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  leaned  back  in 
his  chair,  and  contemplated  Fledgeby  in  silence.  Then 
he  slowly  released  his  left  hand  from  its  pocket,  and 
made  that  bush  of  his  whiskers,  still  contemplating  him 
in  silence.  Then  he  slowly  broke  silence,  and  slowly 
said  : What — the — Dev-il  is  this  fellow  about  this 
morning  ? ” 

^^Now,  look  here,  Lammle,”  said  Fascination  Fledge- 
by, with  the  meanest  of  twinkles  in  his  meanest  of  eyes: 
which  were  too  near  together  by  the  way  : ‘Gook  here, 
Lammle ; I am  very  well  aware  that  I didn’t  show  to 
advantage  last  night,  and  that  you  and  your  wife — who, 
I consider,  is  a very  clever  woman  and  an  agreeable 
woman — did.  I am  not  calculated  to  show  to  advantage 
under  that  sort  of  circumstances.  I know  very  w^ell 
you  two  did  show  to  advantage,  and  managed  capitally. 
But  don’t  you  on  that  account  come  talking  to  me  as  if 
I was  your  doll  and  puppet,  because  I am  not.” 

And  all  this,”  cried  Alfred,  after  studying  with  a 
look  the  meanness  that  was  fain  to  have  the  meanest 
help,  and  yet  was  so  mean  as  to  turn  upon  it:  ^^all  this 
because  of  one  simple  natural  question  ! ” 

^Wou  should  have  waited  till  I thought  proper  to  say 
something  about  it  of  myself.  I don’t  like  your  coming 
over  me  with  your  Georgiana,  as  if  you  was  her  pro- 
prietor and  mine  too.” 

^^Well,  when  you  are  in  the  gracious  mind  to  say 
anything  about  it  of  yourself,”  retorted  Lammle, 

pray  do.” 

I have  done  it.  I have  said  you  managed  capitally. 
You  and  your  wife  both.  If  you’ll  go  on  managing 
capitally.  I’ll  go  on  doing  my  part.  Only  don’t  crow.” 

crow!”  exclaimed  Lammle,  shrugging  his  shoul- 
ders. 

^^Or,”  pursued  the  other — ^^or  take  it  in  your  head 
that  people  are  your  puppets  because  they  don’t  come 
out  to  advantage  at  the  particular  moments  when  you 
do,  with  the  assistance  of  a very  clever  and  agreeable 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


:^88 

wife.  All  the  rest  keep  on  doing,  and  let  Mrs.  Lammle 
keep  on.  doing.  Now,  I have  held  my  tongue  when  I 
thought  proper,  and  I have  spoken  when  I thought 
proper,  and  there’s  an  end  of  that.  And  now  the 
question  is,”  proceeded  Fledgehy,  with  the  greatest 
reluctance,  will  you  have  another  egg  ?” 

No,  I wonT,”  said  Lammle,  shortly. 

Perhaps  you’re  right  and  will  find  yourself  better 
without  it,”  replied  Fascination,  in  greatly  improved 
spirits.  ''  To  ask  you  if  you’ll  have  another  rasher 
would  be  unmeaning  fiattery,  for  it  would  make  you 
thirsty  all  day.  Will  you  have  some  more  bread  and 
butter  ? ” 

^^No,  I won’t,”  repeated  Lammle. 

^ ^ Then  I will,”  said  Fascination.  And  it  was  not  a mere 
report  for  the  sound’s  sake,  but  was  a cheerful  cogent 
consequence  of  the  refusal;  for  if  Lammle  had  applied 
himself  again  to  the  loaf,  it  would  have  been  so  heavily 
visited,  in  Fledgeby’s  opinion,  as  to  demand  abstinence 
from  bread,  on  his  part,  for  the  remainder  of  that  meal 
at  least,  if  not  for  the  whole  of  the  next. 

Whether  this  young  gentleman  (for  he  was  but  three- 
and-twenty)  combined  with  the  miserly  vice  of  an  old 
man  any  of  the  open-handed  vices  of  a young  one,  was 
a moot  point;  so  very  honourably  did  he  keep  his  own 
counsel.  He  was  sensible  of  the  value  of  appearances 
as  an  investment,  and  liked  to  dress  well;  but  he  drove 
a bargain  for  every  moveable  about  him,  from  the  coat 
on  his  back  to  the  china  on  his  breakfast-table;  and 
every  bargain  by  representing  somebody’s  ruin  or  some- 
body’s loss,  acquired  a peculiar  charm  for  him.  It  was 
a part  of  his  avarice  to  take,  within  narrow  bounds, 
long  odds  at  races;  if  he  won,  he  drove  harder  bargains; 
if  he  lost,  he  half  starved  himself  until  next  time.  Why 
money  should  be  so  precious  to  an  Ass  too  dull  and  mean 
to  exchange  it  for  any  other  satisfaction,  is  strange; 
but  there  is  no  animal  so  sure  to  get  laden  with  it  as 
the  Ass  who  sees  nothing  written  on  the  face  of  the 
earth  and  sky  but  the  three  letters  L.  S.  D. — not  Lux- 
ury, Sensuality,  Dissoluteness,  which  they  often  stand 
for,  but  the  three  dry  letters.  Your  concentrated  Fox  is 
seldom  comparable  to  your  concentrated  Ass  in  money- 
breeding. 

Fascination  Fledgeby  feigned  to  be  a young  gentle- 


MERCURY  PROMPTING. 


289 


man  living  on  his  means,  but  was  known  secretly  to  be 
a kind  of  outlaw  in  the  bill-broking  line,  and  to  put 
money  out  at  high  interest  in  various  ways.  His  circle 
of  familiar  acquaintance,  from  Mr.  Lammle  round,  all 
had  a touch  of  the  outlaw,  as  to  their  rovings  in  the 
merry  greenwood  of  Jobbery  Forest,  lying  on  the  out- 
skirts of  the  Share  Market  and  Stock  Exchange. 

^‘1  suppose  you,  Lammle,”  said  Fledgeby,  eating  his 
bread  and  butter,  always  did  go  in  for  female  society?  ” 

Always,  ” replied  Lammle,  glooming  considerably 
under  his  late  treatment. 

'^Came  natural  to  you,  eh?”  said  Fledgeby. 

The  sex  were  pleased  to  like  me  sir,”  said  Lammle 
sulkily,  but  with  the  air  of  a man  who  had  not  been 
able  to  help  himself. 

Made  a pretty  good  thing  of  marrying,  didn’t  you?” 
asked  Fledgeby. 

The  other  smiled  (an  ugly  smile),  and  tapped  one  tap 
upon  his  nose. 

My  late  governor  made  a mess  of  it,”  said  Fledgeby. 

‘^But  Geor is  the  right  name  Georgina  or  Geor- 

giana  ? ” 

Georgiana.” 

‘‘1  was  thinking  yesterday,  I didn’t  know  there  was 
such  a name.  I thought  it  must  end  in  ina.” 

Why?” 

^^Why,  you  play  if  you  can — the  Concertina,  you 
know,  ” replied  Fledgeby,  meditating  very  slowly. 
'‘And  you  have — when  you  catch  it — the  Scarlatina. 

And  you  can  come  down  from  a balloon  in  a parach 

no  you  can’t  though.  Well,  say  Georgeute — I mean 
Georgiana.” 

"You  were  going  to  remark  of  Georgiana — ?”  Lammle 
moodily  hinted,  after  waiting  in  vain. 

" I was  going  to  remark  of  Georgiana,  sir,  ” said 
Fledgeby,  not  at  all  pleased  to  be  reminded  of  his  having 
forgotten  it,  " that  she  don’t  seem  to  be  violent.  Don’t 
seem  to  be  of  the  pitching-in  order.” 

"She  has  the  gentleness  of  the  dove,  Mr.  Fledgeby,” 

"Of  course  you’ll  say  so,”  replied  Fledgeby,  sharpen- 
ing, the  moment  his  interest  was  touched  by  another. 
" But  you  know,  the  real  look-out  is  this  : — what  I say, 
not  what  you  say.  I say — halving  my  late  governor 


YOL.  I. 


19 


290 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


and  my  late  mother  in  my  eye — that  Georgiana  don't 
seem  to  be  of  the  pitching-in  order. 

The  respected  Mr.Lammle  was  a bully,  by  nature  and 
by  usual  practice.  Perceiving,  as  Fledgeby’s  affronts  cu- 
mulated, that  conciliation  by  no  means  answered  the 
purpose  here,  he  now  directed  a scowling  look  into 
Fledgeby’s  small  eyes  for  the  effect  of  the  opposite  treat- 
ment. Satisfied  by  what  he  saw  there,  he  burst  into  a 
violent  passion  and  struck  his  hand  upon  the  table, 
making  the  china  ring  and  dance. 

^^You  are  a very  offensive  fellow,  sir,’’  cried  Mr. 
Lammle,  rising.  ^^You  are  a highly  offensive  scoun- 
drel. What  do  you  mean  by  this  behaviour  ? ” 

^'1  say!”  remonstrated  Fledgeby.  Don’t  break 
out.” 

You  are  a very  offensive  fellow,  sir,”  repeated  Mr. 
Lammle.  ‘Won  are  a highly  offensive  scoundrel  1” 

I say,  you  know  1”  urged  Fledgeby,  quailing. 

Why,  you  coarse  and  vulgar  vagabond  I”  said  Mr. 
Lammle,  looking  fiercely  about  him,  ^Gf  your  servant 
was  here  to  give  me  sixpence  of  your  money  to  get 
my  boots  cleaned  afterwards — for  you  are  not  worth 
the  expenditure — I’d  kick  you.” 

‘^No,  you  wouldn’t,”  pleaded  Fledgeby.  I am  sure 
you’d  think  better  of  it  1 ” 

^‘1  tell  you  what,  Mr.  Fledgeby,”  said  Lammle,  ad- 
vancing on  him.  Since  you  presume  to  contradict 
me.  I’ll  assert  myself  a little.  Give  me  your  nose  1 ” 

Fledgeby  covered  it  with  his  hand  instead,  and  said, 
retreating,  beg  you  won’t.” 

Give  me  your  nose,  sir  !”  repeated  Lammle. 

Still  covering  that  feature  and  backing,  Mr.  Fledgeby 
reiterated  (apparently  with  a severe  cold  in  his  head),  | 
‘^I  beg,  I beg,  you  won’t.” 

And  this  fellow,”  exclaimed  Lammle,  stopping  and 
making  the  most  of  his  chest— ‘Ghis  fellow  presumes  i 
on  my  having  selected  him  out  of  all  the  young  fellows  I i 
know,  for  an  advantageous  opportunity  ! This  fellow  j 

Presumes  on  my  having  in  my  desk  round  the  corner  ; 

is  dirty  note  of  hand  for  a wretched  sum  payable  on  i 
the  occurrence  of  a certain  event,  which  event  can  only  j 
be  of  my  and  my  wife’s  bringing  about  ! This  fellow,  ! 
Fledgeby,  presumes  to  be  impertinent  to  me,  Lammle. 
Give  me  your  nose,  sir  ! ” 


i 


MERCURY  PROMPTING.  291 

No  ! Stop  ! I beg  your  pardon/’  said  Fledgeby,  with 
humility. 

''What  do  you  say,  sir?”  demanded  Mr.  Lammle, 
seeming  too  furious  to  understand. 

" I beg  your  pardon,”  repeated  Fledgeby.  ^ 

"Repeat  your  words  louder,  sir.  The  just  indigna- 
tion of  a gentleman  has  sent  the  blood  boiling  to  my 
head.  I don’t  hear  you.” 

"Isay,”  repeated  Fledgeby,  with  laborious  explan- 
atory politeness,  " I beg  your  pardon.” 

Mr.  Lammle  paused.  " As  a man  of  honour,”  said  he, 
throwing  himself  into  a chair,  "I  am  disarmed.” 

Mr.  Fledgeby  also  took  a chair,  though  less  demon- 
stratively, and  by  slow  approaches  removed  his  hand 
from  his  nose.  Some  natural  diffidence  assailed  him  as 
to  blowing  it,  so  shortly  after  its  having  assumed  a 
personal  and  delicate,  not  to  say  public  character  ; but 
he  overcame  his  scruples  by  degrees,  and  modestly 
took  that  liberty  under  an  implied  protest. 

" Lammle,”  he  said,  sneakingly,  when  that  was  done, 
"T  hope  we  are  friends  again  ?” 

"Mr.  Fledgeby,”  returned  Lammle,  "say  no  more.” 

"I  must  have  gone  too  far  in  making  myself  disa- 
greeable,” said  Fledgeby,  " but  I never  intended 
it.” 

" Say  no  more,  say  no  more  ! ” Mr.  Lammle  repeated 
in  a magnificent  tone.  "Give  me  your” — Fledgeby 
started — " hand.” 

They  shook  hands,  and  on  Mr.  Lammle’s  part  in  par- 
ticular there  ensued  great  geniality.  For  he  was  quite 
as  much  of  a dastard  ^ the  other,  and  had  been  in 
equal  danger  of  falling  into  the  second  place  for  good, 
when  he  took  heart  just  in  time  to  act  upon  the  infor- 
mation conveyed  to  him  by  Fledgeby’s  eye. 

The  breakfast  ended  in  a perfect  understanding.  In- 
cessant machinations  were  to  be  kept  at  work  by  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Lammle  ; love  was  to  be  made  for  Fledgeby, 
and  conquest  was  to  be  insured  to  him ; he  on  his  part 
very  humbly  admitting  his  defects  as  to  the  softer 
social  arts,  and  entreating  to  be  backed  to  the  utmost 
by  his  two  able  coadjutors. 

Little  recked  Mr.  Podsnap  of  the  traps  and  toils  be- 
setting his  Young  Person.  He  regarded  her  as  safe 
within  the  Temple  of  Podsnappery,  biding  the  fulness 


292 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


of  time  when  she,  Georgiana,  should  take  him,  Fitz- 
Podsnap,  who  with  all  his  worldly  goods  should  her 
endow.  It  would  call  a blush  into  the  cheek  of  his 
standard  Young  Person  to  have  anything  to  do  with 
such  matters  save  to  take  as  directed,  and  with  worldly 
goods  as  per  settlement  to  be  endowed.  Who  giveth 
this  woman  to  be  married  to  this  man  ? I,  Podsnap. 
Perish  the  daring  thought  that  any  smaller  creation 
should  come  between  ! 

It  was  a public  holiday,  and  Fledgeby  did  not  recover 
his  spirits  or  his  usual  temperature  of  nose  until  the 
afternoon.  Walking  into  the  City  in  the  holiday  after- 
noon, he  walked  against  a living  stream  setting  out  of 
it ; and  thus,  when  he  turned  into  the  precincts  of  St. 
Mary  Axe,  he  found  a prevalent  repose  and  quiet  there. 
A yellow,  overhanging,  plaster-fronted  house,  at  which 
he  stopped,  was  quiet  too.  The  blinds  were  all  drawn 
down,  and  the  inscription  Pubsey  & Co.  seemed  to  doze 
in  the  counting-house  window  on  the  ground-floor 
giving  on  the  sleepy  street. 

Fledgeby  knocked  and  rang,  and  Fledgeby  rang  and 
knocked,  but  no  one  came.  Fledgeby  crossed  the  narrow 
street,  and  looked  up  at  the  house-windows,  but  nobody 
looked  down  at  Fledgeby.  He  got  out  of  temper, 
crossed  the  narrow  street  again,  and  pulled  the  house- 
bell,  as  if  it  were  the  house’s  nose,  and  he  were  taking 
a hint  from  his  late  experience.  His  ear  at  the  keyhole 
seemed  then,  at  last,  to  give  him  assurance  that  some- 
thing stirred  within.  His  eye  at  the  keyhole  seemed  to 
confirm  his  ear,  for  he  angrily  pulled  the  house’s  nose 
again,  and  pulled  and  continued  to  pull  until  a human 
nose  appeared  in  the  dark  doorway. 

Now  you,  sir!”  cried  Fledgeby.  These  are  nice 
games  1 ” 

He  addressed  an  old  Jewish  man  in  an  ancient  coat, 
long  of  skirt  and  wide  of  pocket.  A venerable  man, 
bald  and  shining  at  the  top  of  his  head,  and  with  long 
grey  hair  flowing  down  at  its  sides  and  mingling  with 
his  beard.  A man  who  with  a graceful  Eastern  action 
of  homage  bent  his  head,  and  stretched  out  his  hands 
with  the  palms  downward,  as  if  to  deprecate  the  wrath 
of  a superior. 

What  have  you  been  up  to  ? ” said  Fledgeby,  storm- 
ing at  him. 


MERCURY  PROMPTING. 


m 


‘‘  Generous  Christian  master,”  urged  the  Jewish  man, 
“it  being  holiday,  I looked  for  no  one.” 

“ Holiday  be  bio  wed  ! ” said  Fledgeby,  entering. 
“ What  have  you  got  to  do  with  holidays  ? Shut  the 
door.” 

With  his  former  action  the  old  man  obeyed.  In  the 
entry  hung  his  rusty  large-brimmed  low-crowned  hat, 
as  long  out  of  date  as  his  coat ; in  the  corner  near  it 
stood  his  staff — no  walking-stick,  but  a veritable  staff. 
Fledgeby  turned  into  the  counting-house,  perched  him- 
self on  a business  stool,  and  cocked  his  hat.  There 
were  light  boxes  on  shelves  in  the  counting-house,  and 
strings  of  mock  beads  hanging  up.  There  were  sam- 
ples of  cheap  clocks,  and  samples  of  cheap  vases  or 
flowers.  Foreign  toys,  all. 

Perched  on  the  stool  with  his  hat  cocked  on  his  head, 
and  one  of  his  legs  dangling,  the  youth  of  Fledgeby 
hardly  contrasted  to  advantage  with  the  age  of  the 
Jewish  man  as  he  stood  with  his  bare  head  bowed,  and 
his  eyes  (which  he  only  raised  in  speaking)  on  the 
ground.  His  clothing  was  worn  down  to  the  rusty  hue 
of  the  hat  in  the  entry,  but  though  he  looked  shabby  he 
did  not  look  mean.  Now,  Fledgeby,  though  notshabbv, 
did  look  mean. 

“You  have  not  told  me  what  you  were  up  to,  you 
sir  ” said  Fledgeby,  scratching  his  head  with  the  brim 
of  his  hat. 

“Sir,  I was  breathing  the  air.” 

“ In  the  cellar,  that  you  didn’t  hear  ?” 

“ On  the  house-top.” 

“ Upon  my  soul  ! That’s  a way  of  doing  business.” 

“ Sir,”  the  old  man  represented  with  a grave  and 
patient  air,  “ there  must  be  two  parties  to  the  transac- 
tion of  business,  and  the  holiday  has  left  me  alone.” 

“ Ah  ! Can’t  be  buyer  and  seller  too.  That’s  what  the 
Jews  say;  ain’t  it  ?” 

“ At  least  we  say  truly,  if  we  say  so,”  answered  the 
old  man  with  a smile. 

“Your  people  need  speak  the  truth  sometimes,  for 
they  lie  enough,”  remarked  Fascination  Fledgeby. 

‘ returned  the  old  man,  with  quiet 

emphasis,  “too  much  untruth  among  all  denominations 
ot  men.” 

Rather  dashed.  Fascination  Fledgeby  took  another 


$94 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


scratch  at  his  intellectual  head  with  his  hat,  to  gain 
time  for  rallying. 

^^For  instance/’  he  resumed,  as  though  it  were  he 
who  had  spoken  last,  who  but  you  and  I ever  heard 
of  a poor  Jew 

The  Jews,”  said  the  old  man,  raising  his  eyes  from 
the  ground  with  his  former  smile.  They  hear  of  poor 
Jews  often,  and  are  very  good  to  them.” 

Bother  that!”  returned  Fledgeby.  ^'You  know 
what  I mean.  You’d  persuade  me  if  you  could,  that 
you  are  a poor  Jew.  I wish  you’d  confess  how  much 
you  really  did  make  out  of  my  late  governor.  I should 
have  a better  opinion  of  you.” 

The  old  man  only  bent  his  head,  and  stretched  out 
his  hands  as  before. 

Don’t  go  on  posturing  like  a Deaf  and  Dumb  School,” 
said  the  ingenious  Fledgeby,  ‘^but  express  yourself  like 
a Christian — or  as  nearly  as  you  can.” 

had  had  sickness  and  misfortunes,  and  was  so 
poor,”  said  the  old  man,  as  hopelessly  to  owe  the 
father,  principal  and  interest.  The  son  inheriting,  was 
so  merciful  as  to  forgive  me  both,  and  place  me 
here.” 

He  made  a little  gesture  as  though  he  kissed  the  hem 
of  an  imaginary  garment  worn  by  the  noble  youth  be- 
fore him.  It  was  humbly  done,  but  picturesquely,  and 
was  not  abasing  to  the  doer. 

You  won’t  say  more,  I see,”  said  Fledgeby,  looking 
at  him  as  if  he  would  like  to  try  the  effect  of  extricating 
a double-tooth  or  two,  ''and  so  it’s  of  no  use  my  putting 
it  to  you.  But  confess  this,  Riah  ; who  believes  you  to 
be  poor  now  ? ” 

" No  one,”  said  the  old  man. 

" There  you’re  right,”  assented  Fledgeby. 

"No  one,”  repeated  the  old  man  with  a grave  slow 
wave  of  his  head.  "All  scout  it  as  a fable.  Were  I to 
say,  ' This  little  fancy  business  is  not  mine  ; ’ ” with  a 
lithe  sweep  of  his  easily-turning  hand  around  him,  to 
comprehend  the  various  objects  on  the  shelves  ; " ' it  is 
the  little  business  of  a Christian  young  gentleman  who 
places  me,  his  servant,  in  trust  and  charge  here,  and  to 
whom  I am  accountable  for  every  single  bead,’  they 
would  laugh.  When,  in  the  larger  money-business,  I 
tell  the  borrowers ” 


MERCUKY  PROMPTING. 


295 


‘'1  say,  old  chap  V interposed  Fledgeby,  hope  you 
mind  what  you  do  tell  ’em  ? ” 

Sir,  I tell  them  no  more  than  I am  about  to  repeat. 
When  I tell  them,  ^ I cannot  promise  this,  I cannot  an- 
swer for  the  other,  I must  see  my  principal,  I have  not 
the  money,  I am  a poor  man  and  it  does  not  rest  with 
me,’  they  are  so  unbelieving  and  so  impatient,  that  they 
sometimes  curse  me  in  Jehovah’s  name.” 

That’s  deuced  good,  that  is!”  said  Fascination 
Fledgeby. 

And  at  other  times  they  say,  ^ Can  it  never  be  done 
without  these  tricks,  Mr.  Riah?  Come,  come,  Mr.  Riah, 
we  know  the  arts  of  your  people’ — my  people! — ^If  the 
money  is  to  be  lent,  fetch  it,  fetch  it;  if  it  is  not 
to  be  lent,  keep  it  and  say  so.’  They  never  believe 
me.” 

Thafs  all  right,”  said  Fascination  Fledgeby. 

They  say,  ^ We  know,  Mr.  Riah,  we  know.  We  have 
but  to  look  at  you,  and  we  know.’” 

‘^Oh,  a good’un  are  you  for  the  post,”  thought  Fledge- 
by, ^^and  a good’un  was  I to  mark  you  out  for  it!  I may 
be  slow,  but  I am  precious  sure.” 

Not  a syllable  of  this  reflection  shaped  itself  in  any 
scrap  of  Mr.  Fledgeby’s  breath,  lest  it  should  tend  to  put 
his  servant’s  price  up.  But  looking  at  the  old  man  as  he 
stood  quiet  with  his  head  bowed  and  his  eyes  cast  down, 
he  felt  that  to  relinquish  an  inch  of  his  baldness,  an 
inch  of  his  grey  hair,  an  inch  of  his  coat-skirt,  an  inch 
of  his  hat-brjm,  an  inch  of  his  walking-staff,  would  be 
to  relinquish  hundreds  of  pounds. 

^^Look  here,  Riah,”  said  Fledgeby,  mollifled  by  these 
self-approving  considerations.  ‘‘I  want  to  go  a little 
more  into  buying-up  queer  bills.  Look  out  in  that  di- 
rection.” 

Sir,  it  shall  be  done.” 

Casting  my  eye  over  the  accounts  I And  that  branch 
of  business  pays  pretty  fairly,  and  I am  game  for  ex- 
tending it.  I like  to  know  people’s  affairs  likewise.  So 
look  out.” 

Sir,  I will,  promptly.” 

''Put  it  about  in  the  right  quarters,  that  you’ll  buy 
queer  bills  by  the  lump — by  the  pound  weight  if  that’s 
all — supposing  you  see  your  way  to  a fair  chance  on 
looking  over  the  parcel.  And  there’s  one  thing  more. 


296 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Come  to  me  with  the  books  for  periodical  inspection  as 
usual,  at  eight  on  Monday  morning.’’ 

Riah  drew  some  folding  tablets  from  his  breast  and 
noted  it  down. 

That’s  all  I wanted  to  say  at  the  present  time,”  con- 
tinued Fledgebyin  a grudging  vein,  as  he  got  off  the 
stool,  except  that  I wish  you’d  take  the  air  where  you 
can  hear  the  bell,  or  the  knocker,  either  one  of  the  two 
or  both.  By-the-bye,  how  do  you  take  the  air  at  the  top 
of  the  house?  Do  you  stick  vour  head  out  of  a chimney- 
pot?” 

^^Sir,  there  are  leads  there,  and  I have  made  a little 
garden  there.” 

To  bury  your  money  in,  you  old  dodger  ! ” 

A thumbnail’s  space  of  garden  would  hold  the 
treasure  Jbury,  master,”  said  Riah.  Twelve  shillings 
a week,  even  when  they  are  an  old  man’s  wages,  bury 
themselves.” 

I should  like  to  know  what  you  really  are  worth,” 
returned  Fledgeby,  with  whom  his  growing  rich  on 
that  stipend  and  gratitude  was  a very  convenient  fic- 
tion. ^'But  come  ! Let’s  have  a look  at  your  garden 
on  the  tiles  before  I go  ! ” 

The  old  man  took  a step  back  and  hesitated. 

Truly,  sir,  I have  company  there.” 

^^Have  you,  by  George  !”  said  Fledgeby  : I suppose 
you  happen  to  know  whose  premises  these  are  ?” 

Sir,  they  are  yours,  and  I am  your  servant  in  them.” 

^'Oh  ! I thought  you  might  have  overlooked  that,” 
retorted  Fledgeby,  with  his  eyes  on  Riah’s  beard  as  he 
felt  for  his  own  ; having  company  on  my  premises, 
you  know  ! ” 

Come  up  and  see  the  guests,  sir.  I hope  for  your 
admission  that  they  can  do  no  harm.” 

Passing  him  with  a courteous  reverence,  specially 
unlike  any  action  that  Mr.  Fledgeby  could  for  his  life 
have  imparted  to  his  own  head  and  hands,  the  old  man 
began  to  ascend  the  stairs.  As  he  toiled  on  before, 
with  his  palm  upon  the  stair  rail,  and  his  long  black 
skirt,  a very  gaberdine,  overhanging  each  successive 
step,  he  might  have  been  the  leader  in  some  pilgrimage 
of  devotional  ascent  to  a prophet’s  tomb.  Not  troubled 
by  any  such  weak  imagining,  Fascination  Fledgeby 
merely  speculated  on  the  time  of  life  at  which  his 


MERCURY  PROMPTING.  297 

beard  had  begun,  and  thought  once  more  what  a good 
’un  he  was  for  the  part. 

Some  final  wooden  steps  conducted  them,  stooping 
under  a low  pent-house  roof,  to  the  housetop.  Riah 
stood  still,  and,  turning  to  his  master,  pointed  out  his 
guests. 

Lizzie  Hexam  and  Jenny  Wren.  For  whom,  per- 
haps with  some  old  instinct  of  his  race,  the  gentle  Jew 
had  spread  a carpet.  Seated  on  it,  against  no  more 
romantic  object  than  a blackened  chimney-stack  over 
which  some  humble  creeper  had  been  trained,  they 
both  pored  over  one  book  ; both  with  attentive  faces  ; 
Jenny  with  the  sharper  ; Lizzie  with  the  more  per- 
plexed. Another  little  book  or  two  were  lying  near, 
and  a common  basket  of  common  fruit,  and  another 
basket  of  strings  of  beads  and  tinsel  scraps.  A few 
boxes  of  humble  fiowers  and  evergreens  completed  the 
garden  ; and  the  encompassing  wilderness  of  dowager 
old  chimneys  twirled  their  cowls  and  fiuttered  their 
smoke,  rather  as  if  they  were  bridling,  and  fanning 
themselves,  and  looking  on  in  a state  of  airy  surprise. 

Taking  her  eyes  off  the  book,  to  test  her  memory  of 
something  in  it,  Lizzie  was  the  first  to  see  herself  ob- 
served. As  she  rose,  Miss  Wren  likewise  became  con- 
scious, and  said,  irreverently  addressing  the  great  chief 
of  the  premises  : ‘^Whoever  you  are,  i caiTt  get  up, 
because  my  back’s  bad  and  my  legs  are  queer.” 

This  is  my  master,”  said  Riah,  stepping  forward. 

Don’t  look  like  anybody’s  master,”  observed  Miss 
Wren  to  herself,  with  a hitch  of  her  chin  and  eyes.) 

^‘This,  sir,”  pursued  the  old  man,  ‘^Gs  a little  dress- 
maker for  little  people.  Explain  to  the  master,  Jenny.” 

Dolls  ; that’s  all,”  said  Jenny,  shortly.  ''Very  dif- 
ficult to  fit  too,  because  their  figures  are  so  uncertain. 
You  never  know  where  to  expect  their  waists.” 

"Her  friend,”  resumed  the*old  man,  motioning  to- 
wards Lizzie  ; " and  as  industrious  as  virtuous.  But 
that  they  both  are.  They  are  busy  early  and  late,  sir, 
early  and  late  ; and  in  by-times,  as  on  this  holiday, 
they  go  to  book-learning.” 

"Not  much  good  to  be  got  out  of  that,”  remarked 
Fledgeby. 

" Depends  upon  the  person  !”  quoth  Miss  Wren,  snap- 
ping him  up. 


298  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

made  acquaintance  with  my  guests,  sir/^  pursued 
the  Jew,  with  an  evident  purpose  of  drawing  out  the 
dressmaker,  through  their  coming  here  to  buy  of  our 
damage  and  waste  for  Miss  Jenny’s  millinery.  Our 
waste  goes  into  the  best  of  company,  sir,  on  her  rosy- 
cheeked  little  customers.  They  wear  it  in  their  hair, 
and  on  their  ball-dresses,  and  even  (so  she  tells  me)  are 
presented  at  Court  with  it.” 

Ah  ! ” said  Fledgeby,  on  whose  intelligence  this 
doll-fancy  made  rather  strong  demands  ; ''  she’s  been 
buying  that  basketful  to-day,  I suppose  ? ” 

suppose  she  has,”  Miss  Jenny  interposed;  ^^and 
paying  for  it  too,  most  likely!” 

Let’s  have  a look  at  it,”  said  the  suspicious  chief. 
Riah  handed  it  to  him.  How  much  for  this  now?” 

Two  precious  silver  shillings,”  said  Miss  Wren. 

Riah  confirmed  her  with  two  nods,  as  Fledgeby 
looked  to  him.  A nod  for  each  shilling. 

Well,”  said  Fledgeby,  poking  into  the  contents  of 
the  basket  with  his  forefinger,  the  price  is  not  so  bad. 
You  have  got  good  measure.  Miss  What-is-it.” 

"^Try  Jenny,”  suggested  that  young  lady  with  great 
calmness. 

^'You  have  got  good  measure.  Miss  Jenny;  but  the 
price  is  not  so  bad. — And  you,”  said  Fledgeby,  turning  to 
the  other  visitor,  do  you  buy  anything  here,  miss  ?” 

No,  sir.” 

Nor  sell  anything  neither,  miss  ?” 

^'No,  sir.” 

Looking  askew  at  the  questioner,  Jenny  stole  her 
hand  up  to  her  friend’s,  and  drew  her  friend  down,  so 
that  she  bent  beside  her  on  her  knee. 

We  are  thankful  to  come  here  for  rest,  sir,”  said 
Jenny.  ^Wou  see,  you  don’t  know  what  the  rest  of 
this  place  is  to  us;  does  he,  Lizzie?  It’s  the  quiet,  and 
the  air.”  • 

The  quiet  1”  repeated  Fledgeby,  with  a contempt- 
uous turn  of  his  head  towards  the  City’s  roar.  ^^And  the 
air  ! ” with  a Poof  1 ” at  the  smoke. 

^'Ah  ! ” said  Jenny.  But  it’s  so  high.  And  you  see 
the  clouds  rushing  on  above  the  narrow  streets,  not 
minding  them,  and  you  see  the  golden  arrows  pointing 
at  the  mountains  in  the  sky  from  which  the  wind 
comes,  and  you  feel  as  if  you  were  dead.” 


MERCURY  PROMPTING. 


299 


The  little  creature  looked  above  her,  holding  up  her 
slight  transparent  hand. 

'‘How  do  you  feel  when  you  are  dead?’’  asked 
Fledgeby,  much  perplexed. 

"'Oh,  so  tranquil !”  cried  the  little  creature,  smiling. 
"Oh,  so  peaceful  and  so  thankful ! And  you  hear  the 
people  who  are  alive,  crying,  and  working,  and  calling 
to  one  another  down  in  the  close  dark  streets,  and  you 
seem  to  pity  them  so!  And  such  a chain  has  fallen 
from  you,  and  such  a strange  good  sorrowful  happiness 
comes  upon  you  ? ” 

Her  eyes  fell  on  the  old  man,  who,  v/ith  his  hands 
folded,  quietly  looked  on. 

" Why,  it  was  only  just  now,”  said  the  little  creature, 
pointing  at  him,  " that  I fancied  I saw  him  come  out 
of  his  grave  ! He  toiled  out  at  that  low  door  so  bent 
and  worn,  and  then  he  took  his  breath  and  stood  up- 
right, and  looked  all  round  him  at  the  sky,  and  the 
wind  blew  upon  him,  and  his  life  down  in  the  dark  was 
over  I — Till  he  was  called  back  to  life,”  she  added,  look- 
ing round  at  Fledgeby  with  that  lower  look  of  sharp- 
ness. " Why  did  you  call  him  back  ? ” 

" He  was  long  enough  coming,  anyhow,”  grumbled 
Fledgeby. 

"But  you  are  not  dead,  you  know,  said  Jenny  Wren. 
" Get  down  to  life  I ” 

Mr.  Fledgeby  seemed  to  think  it  rather  a good  sugges- 
tion, and  with  a nod  turned  round.  As  Riah  followed 
to  attend  him  down  the  stairs,  the  little  creature  called 
out  to  the  Jew  in  a silvery  tone,  " Don’t  be  long  gone. 
Come  back,  and  be  dead  ! ” And  still  as  they  went 
down  they  heard  the  little  sweet  voice,  more  and  more 
faintly,  half  calling  and  half  singing,  " Come  back  and 
be  dead.  Come  back  and  be  dead  ! ” 

When  they  got  down  into  the  entry,  Fledgeby,  paus- 
ing under  the  shadow  of  the  broad  old  hat,  and 
mechanically  poising  the  staff,  said  to  the  old 
man  : 

" That’s  a handsome  girl,  that  one  in  her  senses.” 

"And  as  good  as  handsome,”  answered  Riah. 

"At  all  events,”  observed  Fledgeby,  with  a dry  whis- 
tle, " I hope  she  ain’t  bad  enough  to  put  any  chap  up  to 
the  fastenings,  and  get  the  premises  broken  open.  Y ou 
look  out.  Keep  your  weamer  eye  awake,  and  don’t 


300 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


make  any  more  acquaintances,  however  handsome.  Of 
course  you  always  keep  my  name  to  yourself  ? 

Sir,  assuredly  I do.’’ 

If  they  ask  it,  say  it’s  Pubsey,  or  say  it’s  Co,  or  say 
it’s  anything  you  like,  but  what  it  is.” 

His  grateful  servant — in  whose  race  gratitude  is  deep, 
strong,  and  enduring — bowed  his  head,  and  actually  did 
now  put  the  hem  of  his  coat  to  his  lips  : though  so  lightly 
that  the  wearer  knew  nothing  of  it. 

Thus,  Fascination  Fledgeby  went  his  way,  exulting 
in  the  artful  cleverness  with  which  he  had  turned  his 
thumb  down  on  a Jew,  and  the  old  man  went  his  dif- 
ferent way  up-stairs.  As  he  mounted,  the  call  or  song 
began  to  sound  in  his  ears  again,  and,  looking  above, 
he  saw  the  face  of  the  little  creature  looking  down  out 
of  a Glory  of  her  long  bright  radiant  hair,  and  musi- 
cally repeating  to  him  like  a vision  : 

Come  up  and  be  dead!  Come  up  and  be  dead!  ” 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A RIDDLE  WITHOUT  AN  ANSWER. 

Again  Mr.  Mortimer  Lightwood  and  Mr.  Eugene 
Wrayburn  sat  together  in  the  Temple.  This  even- 
ing, however,  they  were  not  together  in  the  place  of 
business  of  the  eminent  solicitor,  but  in  another  dismal 
set  of  chambers  facing  it  on  the  same  second-floor;  on 
whose  dungeon-like  black  outer  door  appeared  the 
legend: 

Private. 

Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn. 

Mr.  Mortimer  Lightwood. 

Mr,  Lightwood' s Offices  opposite,) 

Appearances  indicated  that  this  establishment  was  a 
very  recent  institution.  The  white  letters,  of  the  in- 
scription were  extremely  white  and  extremely  strong  to 
the  sense  of  smell,  the  complexion  of  the  tables  and 
chairs  was  (like  Lady  Tippins’s)  a little  too  blooming  to 
be  believed  in,  and  the  carpets  and  floor-cloth  seemed  to 
rush  at  the  beholder’s  face 'in  the  unusual  prominency 


A RIDDLE  WITHOUT  AN  ANSWER. 


301 


of  their  patterns.  But  the  Temple,  accustomed  to  tone 
down  both  the  still  life  and  the  human  life  that  has 
much  to  do  with  it,  would  soon  get  the  better  of  all 
that. 

Well!”  said  Eugene,  on  one  side  of  the  fire,  I feel 
tolerably  comfortable.  I hope  the  upholsterer  may  do 
the  same.” 

‘^Why  shouldn’t  he?”  asked  Light  wood,  from  the 
other  side  of  the  fire. 

^^To  be  sure,”  pursued  Eugene,  reflecting,  ''he  is  not 
in  the  secret  of  our  pecuniary  affairs,  so  perhaps  he  may 
be  in  an  easy  frame  of  mind.” 

"We  shall  pay  him,”  said  Mortimer. 

" Shall  we  really,”  returned  Eugene,  indolently  sur- 
prised. "You  don’t  say  so!  ” 

" I mean  to  pay  him,  Eugene,  for  my  part,”  said  Mort- 
imer, in  a slightly  injured  tone. 

" Ah  ! I mean  to  pay  him  too,”  retorted  Eugene.  But 
then  I mean  so  much  that  I — that  I don’t  mean.” 

" Don’t  mean?” 

"So  much  that  I only  mean  and  shall  always  only 
mean  and  nothing  more,  my  dear  Mortimer.  It’s  the 
same  thing.” 

His  friend,  lying  back  in  his  easy-chair,  watched  him 
lying  back  in  his  easy  chair,  as  he  stretched  out  his  legs 
on  the  hearth-rug,  and  said,  with  the  amused  look  that 
Eugene Wrayburn  could  always  awaken  in  him  without 
seeming  to  try  or  care: 

" Anyhow,  your  vagaries  have  increasea  the  bill.” 

"Calls  the  domestic  virtues  vagaries!”  exclaimed 
Eugene,  raising  his  eyes  to  the  ceiling. 

"This  very  complete  little  kitchen  of  ours,”  said  Mort- 
imer, "in  which  nothing  will  ever  be  cooked ” 

" My  dear,  dear  Mortimer,”  returned  his  friend,  lazily 
lifting  his  head  a little  to  look  at  him,  " how  often  have 
I pointed  out  to  you  that  its  moral  influence  is  the  im- 
portant thing.” 

" Its  moral  influence  on  this  fellow ! ” exclaimed 
Lightwood,  laughing. 

"Do  me  the  favour,”  said  Eugene,  getting  out  of  his 
chair  with  much  gravity,  "to  come  and  inspect  that 
feature  of  our  establishment  which  you  rashly  dis- 
parage.” With  that,  taking  up  a candle,  he  conducted 
his  chum  into  the  fourth  room  of  the  set  of  chambers — 


302 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


a little  narrow  room— which  was  very  completely  and 
neatly  fitted  as  a kitchen.  See!  ” said  Eugene,  ^^mini- 
ature flour-barrel,  rolling-pin,  spice-box,  shelf  of  brown 
jars,  chopping-board,  coffee-mill,  dresser  elegantly  fur- 
nished with  crockery,  saucepans  and  pans,  roasting- 
jack,  a charming  kettle,  an  armoury  of  dish-covers.  The 
moral  influence  of  these  objects,  in  forming  the  domes- 
tic virtues,  may  have  an  immense  influence  upon  me; 
not  upon  you,  for  you  are  a hopeless  case,  but  upon  me. 
In  fact,  I have  an  idea  that  I feel  the  domestic  vir- 
tues already  forming.  Do  me  the  favour  to  step  into 
my  bed-room.  Secretaire,  you  see,  and  abstruse  set  of 
solid  mahogany  pigeon-holes,  one  for  every  letter  of  the 
alphabet.  To  what  use  do  I devote  them?  I receive  a 
bill — say  from  Jones.  I docket  it  neatly  at  the  secre- 
taire, Jones,  and  I put  it  into  pigeon-hole  J.  It’s  the 
next  thing  to  a receipt,  and  is  quite  as  satisfactory  to 
me.  And  I very  much  wish,  Mortimer,”  sitting  on  his 
bed  with  the  air  of  a philosopher  lecturing  a disciple, 
that  my  example  might  induce  you  to  cultivate  habits 
of  punctuality  and  method;  and,  by  means  of  the  moral 
influences  with  which  I have  surrounded  you,  to  en- 
courage the  formation  of  the  domestic  virtues.” 

Mortimer  laughed  again,  with  his  usual  commentaries 
of  How  can  you  be  so  ridiculous,  Eugene!”  and 
What  an  absurd  fellow  you  are  !”  but  when  his  laugh 
was  out,  there  was  something  serious,  if  not  anxious,  in 
his  face.  Despite  that  pernicious  assumption  of  lassi- 
tude and  indifference,  which  had  become  his  second 
nature,  he  was  strongly  attached  to  his  friend.  He 
had  founded  himself  upon  Eugene  when  they  were  yet 
boys  at  school ; and  at  this  hour  imitated  him  no  less, 
admired  him  no  less,  loved  him  no  less,  than  in  those 
departed  days. 

Eugene,”  said  he,  ^^if  I could  And  you  in  earnest, 
for  a minute,  I would  try  to  say  an  earnest  word  to  you.” 

An  earnest  word  ? ” repeated  Eugene.  The  moral 
influences  are  beginning  to  work.  S^ay  on.” 

^^Well,  I will,”  returned  the  other,  though  you  are 
not  earnest  yet.” 

In  this  desire  for  earnestness,”  murmured  Eugene, 
with  the  air  of  one  who  was  meditating  deeply,  I trace 
the  happy  influences  of  the  little  flour-barrel  and  the 
coffee-mill.  Gratifying.  ” 


A RIDDLE  WITHOUT  AN  ANSWER.  303 

Eugene/’  resumed  Mortimer,  disregarding  the  light 
interruption,  and  laying  a hand  upon  Eugene’s  shoulder, 
as  he,  Mortimer,  stood  before  him  seated  on  his  bed, 
^^you  are  withholding  something  from  me.” 

Eugene  looked  at  him,  but  said  nothing. 

''All this  past  summer,  you  have  been  withholding 
something  from  me.  Before  we  entered  on  our  boating 
vacation,  you  were  as  bent  upon  it  as  I have  seen  you 
upon  anything  since  we  first  rowed  together.  But  you 
cared  very  little  for  it  when  it  came,  often  found  it  a 
tie  and  a drag  upon  you,  and  were  constantly  away. 
Now  it  was  well  enough  half-a-dozen  times,  a dozen 
times  twenty  times,  to  say  to  me  in  your  own  odd  man- 
ner,whichIknow  so  well  and  like  so  much,  that  your 
disappearances  were  precautions  against  our  boring  one 
another ; but  of  course  after  a sliort  while  I began  to  know 
that  they  covered  something.  I don’t  ask  what  it  is,  as 
you  have  not  told  me;  but  the  fact  is  so.  Say,  is  it 
not?” 

"I  give  you  my  word  of  honour,  Mortimer,”  returned 
Eugene,  after  a serious  pause  of  a few  moments,  " that 
I don’t  know.” 

" Don’t  know,  Eugene  ? ” 

"Upon  my  soul,  don’t  know.  I know  less  about  my- 
self tlian  about  most  people  in  the  world,  and  I don’t 
know.” 

"You  have  some  design  in  your  mind  ? ” 

"Have  I ? I don’t  think  I have.” 

"At  any  rate, you  have  some  subject  of  interest  there 
which  used  not  to  be  there  ? ” 

"I  really  can’t  say,”  replied  Eugene,  shaking  his 
head  blankly,  after  pausing  again  to  reconsider.  " At 
times  I have  thought  yes;  at  other  times  I have  thought 
no.  Now  I have  been  inclined  to  pursue  such  a subject; 
now  I have  felt  that  it  was  absurd,  and  that  it  tired  and 
embarrassed  me.  Absolutely,  I can’t  say.  Frankly 
and  faithfully,  I would  if  I could.” 

So  replying,  he  clapped  a hand,  in  his  turn,  on  his 
friend’s  shoulder,  as  he  rose  from  his  seat  upon  the  bed, 
and  said  : 

"You  must  take  your  friend  as  he  is.  You  know 
what  I am,  my  dear  Mortimer.  You  know  how  dread- 
fully susceptible  I am  to  boredom.  You  know  that 
when  I became  enough  of  a man  to  find  myself  an  em- 


304 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


bodied  conundrum,  I bored  myself  to  the  last  degree  by 
trying  to  find  out  what  I meant.  You  know  that  at 
length  I gave  it  up,  and  declined  to  guess  any  more. 
Then  how  can  I possibly  give  you  the  answer  that  I 
have  not  discovered  ? The  old  nursery  form  runs, 

' Riddle-me-riddle-me-ree,  p’raps  you  can’t  tell  me  what  | 
this  maybe?’  My  reply  runs,  ‘No.  Upon  my  life,  I I 
can’t.’” 

So  much  of  what  was  fantastically  true  to  his  own  | 
knowledge,  of  this  utterly  careless  Eugene,  mingled  with 
the  answer,  that  Mortimer  could  not  receive  it  as  a mere 
evasion.  Besides,  it  was  given  with  an  engaging  air  of 
openness,  and  of  special  exemption  of  the  one  friend  he 
valued  from  his  reckless  indifference. 

“Come,  dear  boy!”  said  Eugene.  “Let  us  try  the 
effect  of  smoking.  If  it  enlightens  me  at  all  on  this 
question,  I will  impart  unreservedly.” 

They  returned  to  the  room  they  had  come  from,  and 
finding  it  heated,  opened  a window.  Having  lighted 
their  cigars,  they  leaned  out  of  this  window,  smoking, 
and  looking  down  at  the  moonlight,  as  it  shone  into  the 
court  below. 

“No  enlightenment,”  resumed  Eugene,  after  certain 
minutes  of  silence.  “I  feel  sincerely  apologetic,  my 
dear  Mortimer,  but  nothing  comes.” 

“ If  nothing  comes,”  returned  Mortimer,  “ nothing  can 
come  from  it.  So  I shall  hope  that  this  may  hold  good 
throughout,  and  that  there  may  be  nothing  on  foot. 
Nothing  injurious  to  you,  Eugene,  or ” 

Eugene  stayed  him  for  a moment  with  his  hand  on  his 
arm,  while  he  took  a piece  of  earth  from  an  old  fiower- 
plot  on  the  window-sill  and  dexterously  shot  it  at  a little 
point  of  light  opposite;  having  done  which  to  his  satis- 
faction, he  said,  “Or?” 

“ Or  injurious  to  any  one  else.” 

“How,”  said  Eugene,  taking  another  little  piece  of 
earth,  and  shooting  it  with  great  precision  at  the  former 
mark,  “how  injurious  to  any  one  else?” 

“ I don’t  know.”  i 

“And,”  said  Eugene,  taking,  as  he  said  the  word, 
another  shot,  “ to  whom  else?” 

“ I don’t  know.” 

Checking  himself  with  another  piece  of  earth  in  his  ! 
hand,  Eugene  looked  at  his  friend  enquiringly  and  a 


A RIDDLE  WITHOUT  AN  ANSWER.  305 

little  suspiciously.  There  was  no  concealed  or  half- 
expressed  meaning  in  his  face. 

^‘^Two  belated  wanderers  in  the  mazes  of  the  law,” 
said  Eugene,  attracted  by  the  sound  of  footsteps,  and 
glancing  down  as  he  spoke,  stray  into  the  court.  They 
examine  the  door-posts  of  number  one,  seeking  the 
name  they  want.  Not  finding  it  at  number  one,  they 
come  to  number  two.  On  the  hat  of  wanderer  number 
two,  the  shorter  one,  I drop  this  pellet.  Hitting  him  on 
the  hat,  I smoke  serenely,  and  become  absorbed  in  con- 
templation of  the  sky.” 

Both  the  wanderers  looked  up  towards  the  window; 
but,  after  interchanging  a mutter  or  two,  soon  applied 
themselves  to  the  doorposts  below.  There  they  seemed 
to  discover  what  they  wanted,  for  they  disappeared 
from  view  by  entering  at  the  doorway.  When  they 
emerge,”  said  Eugene,  you  shall  see  me  bring  them 
both  down;”  and  so  prepared  two  pellets  for  the  purpose. 

He  had  not  reckoned  on  their  seeking  his  name,  or 
Lightwood’s.  But  either  the  one  or  the  other  would 
seem  to  be  in  question,  for  now  there  came  a knock  at 
the  door.  am  on  duty  to-night,”  said  Mortimer, 

‘^stay  you  where  you  are,  Eugene.”  Requiring  no 
persuasion,  he  stayed  there,  smoking  quietly,  and  not 
at  all  curious  to  know  who  knocked,  until  Mortimer 
spoke  to  him  from  within  the  room,  and  touched  him. 
Then,  drawing  in  his  head,  he  found  the  visitors  to  be 
young  Charley  Hexam  and  the  schoolmaster ; both 
standing  facing  him,  and  both  recognized  at  a glance. 

‘Won  recollect  this  young  fellow,  Eugene?”  said 
Mortimer. 

‘^Let  me  look  at  him,”  returned  Wrayburn,  coolly. 

Oh,  yes,  yes.  I recollect  him  !” 

He  had  not  been  about  to  repeat  tha.  former  action  of 
taking  him  by  the  chin,  but  the  boy  had  suspected  him 
of  it,  and  had  thrown  up  his  arm  with  an  angry  start. 
Laughingly,  Wrayburn  looked  to  Lightwood  for  an 
explanation  of  this  odd  visit. 

He  says  he  has  something  to  say.” 

Surely  it  must  be  to  you,  Mortimer.” 

So  I thought,  but  he  says  no.  He  says  it  is  to  you.” 

^"Yes,  I do  say  so,”  interposed  the  boy.  ^^And  I 
mean  to  say  what  I want  to  say,  too,  Mr.  Eugene 
Wrayburn  ! ” 

VOL.  I. 


20 


306 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Passing  him  with  his  eyes  as  if  there  were  nothing 
where  he  stood,  Eugene  looked  on  to  Bradley  Headstone. 
With  consummate  indolence,  he  turned  to  Mortimer, 
inquiring  : And  who  may  this  other  person  be 

am  Charles  Hexam’s  friend,’’  said  Bradley;  ‘^1 
am  Charles  Hexam’s  schoolmaster.” 

^^My  good  sir,  you  should  teach  your  pupils  better 
manners,”  returned  Eugene. 

• Composedly  smoking,  he  leaned  an  elbow  on  the 
chimney-piece,  at  the  side  of  the  fire,  and  looked  at  the 
schoolmaster.  It  was  a cruel  look,  in  its  cold  disdain 
of  him,  as  a creature  of  no  worth.  The  schoolmaster 
looked  at  him,  and  that,  too,  was  a cruel  look,  though 
of  the  different  kind,  that  it  had  a raging  jealousy  and 
fiery  wrath  in  it. 

Very  remarkably,  neither  Eugene  Wrayburn  nor 
Bradley  Headstone  looked  at  all  at  the  boy.  Through 
the  ensuing  dialogue,  those  two,  no  matter  who  spoke, 
or  whom  was  addressed,  looked  at  each  other.  There 
was  some  secret,  sure  perception  between  them,  which 
set  them  against  one  another  in  all  ways. 

In  some  high  respects,  Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn,”  said 
Bradley,  answering  him  with  pale  and  quivering  lips, 
^Hhe  natural  feelings  of  my  pupils  are  stronger  than 
my  teaching.” 

In  most  respects,  I dare  say,”  replied  Eugene,  enjoy- 
ing his  cigar,  though  whether  high  or  low  is  of  no  im- 
portance. You  have  my  name  very  correctly.  Pray 
what  is  yours?” 

cannot  concern  you  much  to  know,  but ” 

True,”  interposed  Eugene,  striking  sharply  and  cut- 
ting him  short  at  his  mistake,  it  does  not  concern  me 
at  all  to  know.  I can  say  Schoolmaster,  which  is  a most 
respectable  title.  You  are  right.  Schoolmaster.” 

It  was  not  the  dullest  part  of  this  goad  in  its  galling 
of  Bradley  Headstone,  that  he  had  made  it  himself  in  a 
moment  of  incautious  anger.  He  tried  to  set  his  lips  so 
as  to  prevent  their  quivering,  but  they  quivered  fast. 

^^Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn,”  said  the  boy,  want  a 
word  with  you.  I have  wanted  it  so  much,  that  we 
have  looked  out  your  address  in  the  book,  and  we  have 
been  to  your  office,  and  we  have  come  from  your  office 
here.” 

You  have  given  yourself  much  trouble,  Schoolmas- 


A RIDDLE  WITHOUT  AN  ANSWER. 


307 


ter/’  observed  Eugene,  blowing  the  feathery  ash  from 
his  cigar.  I hope  it  may  prove  remunerative.” 

''And  I am  glad  to  speak/’  pursued  the  boy,  "in  pres- 
ence of  Mr.  Lightwood,  because  it  was  through  Mr. 
Light  wood  that  you  ever  saw  my  sister.” 

For  a mere  moment,  Wrayburn  turned  his  eyes  aside 
from  the  schoolmaster  to  note  the  effect  of  the  last  word 
on  Mortimer,  who,  standing  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
fire,  as  soon  as  the  word  was  spoken,  turned  his  face  to- 
wards the  fire,  and  looked  down  into  it. 

"Similarly,  it  was  through  Mr.  Lightwood  that  you 
ever  saw  her  again,  for  you  were  with  him  on  the  night 
when  my  father  was  found,  and  so  I found  you  with 
her  on  the  next  day.  Since  then,  you  have  seen  my  sis- 
ter often.  You  have  seen  my  sister  of tener  and  oftener. 
And  I want  to  know  why?” 

"Was  this  worth  while.  Schoolmaster  ?”  murmured 
Eugene,  with  the  air  of  a disinterested  adviser.  "So 
much  trouble  for  nothing  ! You  should  know  best,  but 
I think  not.” 

"I  don’t  know,  Mr.  Wrayburn,”  answered  Bradley, 
with  his  passion  rising,  "why  you  address  me ” 

" Don’t  you  ? ” said  Eugene.  " Then  I won’t.” 

He  said  it  so  tauntingly  in  his  perfect  placidity,  that 
the  respectable  right  hand  clutching  the  respectable 
hair-guard  of  the  respectable  watch  could  have  wound 
it  round  his  throat  and  strangled  him  with  it.  Not  an- 
other word  did  Eugene  deem  it  worth  while  to  utter, 
but  stood  leaning  his  head  upon  his  hand,  smoking,  and 
looking  imperturbably  at  the  chafing  Bradley.  Head- 
stone, with  his  clutching  right  hand,  until  Bradley  was 
well-nigh  mad.  • 

"Mr.  Wrayburn,”  proceeded  the  boy,  "we  not  only 
know  this  that  I have  charged  upon  you,  but  we  know 
more.  It  has  not  yet  come  to  my  sister’s  knowledge 
that  we  have  found  it  out,  but  we  have.  We  had  a 
plan,  Mr.  Headstone  and  I,  for  my  sister’s  education, 
and  for  its  being  advised  and  overlooked  by  Mr.  Head- 
stone, who  is  a much  more  competent  authority,  what- 
ever you  may  pretend  to  think,  as  you  smoke,  than  you 
could  produce,  if  you  tried.  Then,  what  do  we  find  ? 
What  do  we  find,  Mr.  Lightwood  ? Why,  we  find  that 
my  sister  is  already  being  taught,  without  our  knowing 
it.  We  find  that  while  my  sister  gives  an  unwilling 


308 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


and  cold  ear  to  our  schemes  for  her  advantage — I,  her 
brother,  and  Mr.  Headstone,  the  most  competent 
authority,  as  his  certificates  would  easily  prove,  that 
could  be  produced — she  is  wilfully  and  willingly  profit- 
ing by  other  schemes.  Ay,  and  taking  pains,  too,  fori 
know  what  such  pains  are.  And  so  does  Mr.  Head- 
stone ! Well ! Somebody  pays  for  this,  is  a thought 
that  naturally  occurs  to  us  ; who  pays  ? We  apply 
ourselves  to  find  out,  Mr.  Lightwood,  and  we  find  that 
your  friend,  this  Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn,  here,  pays. 
Then  I ask  him  what  right  has  he  to  do  it,  and  what 
does  he  mean  by  it,  and  how  comes  he  to  be  taking  such 
a liberty  without  my  consent,  when  I am  raising  myself 
in  the  scale  of  society  by  my  own  exertions  and  Mr. 
Headstone’s  aid,  and  have  no  right  to  have  any  dark- 
ness cast  upon  my  prospects,  or  any  imputation  upon 
my  respectability,  through  my  sister  ? ” 

The  boyish  weakness  of  this  speech,  combined  with 
its  great  selfishness,  made  it  a poor  one  indeed.  And 
yet  Bradley  Headstone,  used  to  the  little  audience  of  a 
school,  and  unused  to  the  larger  ways  of  men,  showed 
a kind  of  exultation  in  it. 

Now,  I tell  Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn,”  pursued  the  boy, 
forced  into  the  use  of  the  third  person  by  the  hopeless- 
ness of  addressing  him  in  the  first,  ^'that  I object  to 
his  having  any  acquaintance  at  all  with  my  sister,  and 
that  I request  him  to  drop  it  altogether.  He  is  not  to 
take  it  into  his  head  that  I am  afraid  of  my  sister’s  car- 
ing for  him ” 

(As  the  boy  sneered,  the  master  sneered,  and  Eugene 
blew  off  the  feathery  ash  again.) 

— ^^But  I object  to  it,  and  that’s  enough.  I am  more 
important  to  my  sister  than  he  thinks.  As  I raise  my- 
self, I intend  to  raise  her  ; she  knows  that,  and  she  has 
to  look  to  me  for  her  prospects.  Now,  I understand  all 
this  very  well,  and  so  does  Mr.  Headstone.  My  sister 
is  an  excellent  girl,  but  she  has  some  romantic  notions  ; i 
not  about  such  things  as  your  Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburns,  ^ | 
but  about  the  death  of  my  father  and  other  matters  of  j 
that  sort.  Mr.  Wrayburn  encourages  those  notions  to  j 
make  himself  of  importance,  and  so  she  thinks  she  I 
ought  to  be  grateful  to  him,  and  perhaps  even  likes  to  ' j 
be.  Now,  I don’t  choose  her  to  be  grateful  to  him,  or  to 
be  grateful  to  anybody  but  me,  except  Mr.  Headstone. 


A RIDDLE  WITHOUT  AN  ANSWER.  309 


And  I tell  Mr.  Wrayburn,  that  if  he  don’t  take  heed  of 
what  I say,  it  will  be  worse  for  her.  Let  him  turn  that 
over  in  his  memory,  and  make  sure  of  it.  Worse  for 
her!” 

A pause  ensued,  in  which  the  schoolmaster  looked 
very  awkward. 

May  I suggest,  Schoolmaster,”  said  Eugene,  re- 
moving his  fast- waning  cigar  from  his  lips  to  glance  at 
it,  that  you  can  now  take  your  pupil  away  ? ” 

''And  Mr.  Lightwood,”  added  the  boy,  with  a burn- 
ing face,  under  the  flaming  aggravation  of  getting  no 
sort  of  answer  or  attention,  "I  hope  you’ll  take  notice 
of  what  I have  said  to  your  friend  and  of  what  your 
friend  has  heard  me  say,  word  by  word,  whatever  he 
pretends  to  the  contrary.  You  are  bound  to  take 
notice  of  it,  Mr.  Lightwood,  for,  as  I have  already 
mentioned,  you  first  brought  your  friend  into  my  sister’s 
company,  and  but  for  you  we  never  should  have  seen 
him.  Lord  knows  none  of  us  ever  wanted  him,  any 
more  than  any  of  us  will  ever  miss  him.  Now,  Mr. 
Headstone,  as  Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn  has  been  obliged 
to  hear  what  I had  to  say,  and  couldn’t  help  himself, 
and  as  I have  said  it  out  to  the  last  word,  we  have  done 
all  we  wanted  to  do,  and  may  go.” 

"Go  down-stairs,  and  leave  me  a moment,  Hexam,” 
he  returned.  The  boy  complying  with  an  indignant 
look  and  as  much  noise  as  he  could  make,  swung  out  of 
the  room  ; and  Lightwood  went  to  the  window,  and 
leaned  there,  looking  out. 

"You  think  me  of  no  more  value  than  the  dirt  under 
your  feet,”  said  Bradley  to  Eugene,  speaking  in  a care- 
fully weighed  and  measured  tone,  or  he  could  not  have 
spoken  at  all. 

" I assure  you.  Schoolmaster,”  replied  Eugene,  " I 
don’t  think  about  you.” 

"That’s  not  true,”  returned  the  other;  "you  know 
better.” 

"That’s  coarse,”  Eugene  retorted;  "but  you  don't 
know  better.” 

" Mr.  Wrayburn,  at  least  I know  very  well  that  it 
would  be  idle  to  set  myself  against  you  in  insolent 
words  or  overbearing  manners.  That  lad  who  has  just 
gone  out  could  put  you  to  shame  in  half-a-dozen  branches 
of  knowledge  in  half  an  hour,  but  you  can  throw  him 


310 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


aside  like  an  inferior.  You  can  do  as  much  by  me,  I 
have  no  doubt,  beforehand.’’ 

Possibly,”  remarked  Eugene. 

‘^But  I am  more  than  a lad,’  said  Bradley  with  his 
clutching  hand,  and  I will  be  heard,  sir!  ” 

As  a schoolmaster,”  said  Eugene,  ''you  are  always 
being  heard.  That  ought  to  content  you.” 

" But  it  does  not  content  me,”  replied  the  other,  white 
with  passion.  " Do  you  suppose  that  a man,  in  forming 
himself  for  the  duties  I discharge,  and  in  watching  and 
repressing  himself  daily  to  discharge  them  well,  dis- 
misses a man’s  nature  ? ” 

" I suppose  you,”  said  Eugene,  " judging  from  what 
I see  as  I look  at  you,  to  be  rather  too  passionate  for  a 
good  schoolmaster.”  As  he  spoke,  he  tossed  away  the 
end  of  his  cigar. 

"Passionate  with  you,  sir,  I admit  I am.  Passionate 
with  you,  sir,  I respect  myself  for  being.  But  I have 
not  Devils  for  my  pupils.” 

" For  your  Teachers,  I should  rather  say,”  replied 
Eugene. 

" Mr.  Wrayburn.” 

" Schoolmaster.” 

"Sir,  my  name  is  Bradley  Headstone.” 

" As  you  justly  said,  my  good  sir,  your  name  cannot 
concern  me.  Now,  what  more?” 

"This  more.  Oh,  what  a misfortune  is  mine,”  cried 
Bradley,  breaking  off  to  wipe  the  starting  perspiration 
from  his  face  as  he  shook  from  head  to  foot,  "that  I 
cannot  so  control  myself  as  to  appear  a stronger  creature 
than  this,  when  a man  who  has  not  felt  in  all  his 
life  what  I have  felt  in  a day  can  so  command  him- 
self !”  He  said  it  in  a very  agony,  and  even  followed  it 
with  an  errant  motion  of  his  hands,  as  if  he  could  have 
torn  himself. 

Eugene  Wrayburn  looked  on  at  him  as  if  he  found 
him  beginning  to  be  rather  an  entertaining  study. 

" Mr.  Wrayburn,  I desire  to  say  something  to  you  on 
my  own  part.” 

"Come,  come.  Schoolmaster,”  returned  Eugene,  with 
a languid  approach  to  impatience  as  the  other  again 
struggled  with  himself;  "say  what  you  have  to  say. 
And  let  me  remind  you  that  the  door  is  standing  open, 
and  your  young  friend  waiting  for  you  on  the  stairs.” 


A RIDDLE  WITHOUT  AN  ANSWER. 


311 


When  I accompanied  that  youth  here,  sir,  I did  so 
with  the  purpose  of  adding,  as  a man  whom  you  should 
not  be  permitted  to  put  aside,  in  case  you  put  him  aside 
as  a boy,  that  his  instinct  is  correct  and  right/’  Thus 
Bradley  Headstone,  with  great  effort  and  difficulty. 

Is  that  all  ? ” asked  Eugene. 

^^No,  sir,”  said  the  other  flushed  and  fierce.  I 
strongly  support  him  in  his  disapproval  of  your  visits  to 
his  sister,  and  in  his  objection  to  your  officiousness — and 
worse — in  what  you  have  taken  upon  yourself  to  do  for 
her.” 

Is  that  all  ? ” asked  Eugene. 

No,  sir.  I determined  to  tell  you  that  you  are  not 
justified  in  these  proceedings,  and  that  they  are  injur- 
ious to  his  sister.” 

Are  you  her  schoolmaster  as  well  as  her  brother’s  ? 
— Or  perhaps  you  would  like  to  be  ? ” said  Eugene. 

It  was  a stab  that  the  blood  followed,  in  its  rush  to 
Bradley  Headstone’s  face,  as  swiftly  as  if  it  had  been 
dealt  with  a dagger.  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?•” 
was  as  much  as  he  could  utter. 

^^A  natural  ambition  enough,”  said  Eugene,  coolly. 

Far  be  it  from  me  to  say  otherwise.  The  sister — who 
is  something  too  much  upon  your  lips,  perhaps — is  so 
very  different  from  all  the  associations  to  which  she  has 
been  used,  and  from  all  the  low  obscure  people  about 
her,  that  it  is  a very  natural  ambition.” 

Do  you  throw  my  obscurity  in  my  teeth,  Mr.  Wray- 
burn  ?” 

That  can  hardly  be,  for  I know  nothing  concerning 
it.  Schoolmaster,  and  seek  to  know  nothing.” 

‘Wou  reproach  me  with  my  origin,”  said  Bradley 
Headstone  ; ^^you  cast  insinuations  at  my  bringing-up. 
But  I tell  you,  sir,  I have  worked  my  way  onward,  out 
of  both  and  in  spite  of  both,  and  have  a right  to  be  con- 
sidered a better  man  than  you,  with  better  reasons  for 
being  proud.” 

How  I can  reproach  you  with  what  is  not  within  my 
knowledge,  or  how  I can  cast  stones  that  were  never  in 
my  hand,  is  a problem  for  the  ingenuity  of  a school- 
master to  prove,”  returned  Eugene.  ^Hs  that  all  ?” 

^^No,  sir.  If  you  suppose  that  boy ” 

Who  really  will  be  tired  of  waiting,”  said  Eugene^ 
politely. 


312 


OUR  MUTUAL  PRIEUU. 


'•  If  you  suppose  that  boy  to  be  friendless,  Mr.  Wray- 
burn,  you  deceive  yourself.  I am  his  friend,  and  you 
shall  find  me  so.^’ 

"And  you  will  find  him  on  the  stairs,”  remarked 
Eugene. 

"You  may  have  promised  yourself,  sir,  that  you  could 
do  what  you  chose  here,,  because  you  had  to  deal  with 
a mere  boy,  inexperienced,  friendless,  and  unassisted. 
But  I give  you  warning  that  this  mean  calculation  is 
wrong.  You  have  to  do  with  a man  also.  You  have  to 
do  with  me.  I will  support  him,  and,  if  need  be,  re- 
quire reparation  for  him.  My  Jiand  and  heart  are  in 
this  cause,  and  are  open  to  him.” 

"And — quite  a coincidence — the  door  is  open,”  re- 
marked Eugene. 

"I  scorn  your  shifty  evasions,  and  I scorn  you,”  said 
the  schoolmaster.  "In  the  meanness  of  your  nature 
you  revile  me  with  the  meanness  of  my  birth.  I hold 
you  in  contempt  for  it.  But  if  you  don't  profit  by  this 
visit,  and  act  accordingly,  you  will  find  me  as  bitterly 
in  earnest  against  you  as  I could  be  if  I deemed  you 
worth  a second  thought  on  my  own  account.” 

With  a consciously  bad  grace  and  stiff  manner,  as 
Wrayburn  looked  so  easily  and  calmly  on,  he  went  out 
with  these  words,  and  the  heavy  door  closed  like  a 
furnace-door  upon  his  red  and  white  heats  of  rage. 

"A  curious  monomaniac,”  said  Eugene.  " The  man 
seems  to  believe  that  everybody  was  acquainted  with 
his  mother  ! ” 

Mortimer  Lightwood  being  still  at  the  window,  to 
which  he  had  in  delicacy  withdrawn,  Eugene  called  to 
him,  and  he  fell  to  slowly  pacing  the  room. 

"My  dear  fellow,”  said  Eugene,  as  he  lighted  an- 
other cigar,  "I  fear  my  unexpected  visitors  have  been 
troublesome.  If  as  a set-off  (excuse  the  legal  phrase 
from  a barrister-at-law)  you  would  like  to  ask  Tippins  to 
tea,  I pledge  myself  to  make  love  to  her.” 

"Eugene,  Eugene,  Eugene!”  replied  Mortimer,  still 
pacing  the  room,  "I  am  sorry  for  this.  And  to  think 
that  I have  been  so  blind  ! ” 

"How  blind,  dear  boy?”  inquired  his  unmoved 
friend. 

"What  were  your  words  that  night  at  the  river-side 
public-house  ?”  said  Lightwood,  stopping.  " What  was 


A RIDDLE  WITHOUT  AN  ANSWER. 


313 


it  that  you  asked  me  ? Did  I feel  like  a dark  combina- 
tion of  traitor  and  pickpocket  when  I thought  of  that 
girl  ? ’’ 

''I  seem  to  remember  the  expression,”  said  Eugene. 

How  do  you  feel  when  you  think  of  her  just  now  ?” 

His  friend  made  no  direct  reply,  but  observed,  after 
a few  whiffs  of  his  cigar,  Don’t  mistake  the  situation. 
There  is  no  better  girl  in  all  this  London  than  Lizzie 
Hexam.  There  is  no  better  among  my  people  at  home  ; 
no  better  among  your  people.” 

Granted.  What  follows  ? ” 

There,”  said  Eugene,  looking  after  him  dubiously 
as  he  paced  away  to  the  other  end  of  the  room,  ^^you 
put  me  again  upon  guessing  the  riddle  that  I have  given 
up.” 

Eugene,  do  you  design  to  capture  and  desert  this 
girl  ? ” 

'‘My  dear  fellow,  no.” 

“Do  you  design  to  marry  her  ?” 

“My  dear  fellow,  no.” 

“Do  you  design  to  pursue  her  ?” 

“My  dear  fellow,  I don’t  design  anything.  I have  no 
design  whatever.  I am  incapable  of  designs.  If  I con- 
ceived a design,  I should  speedily  abandon  it,  exhausted 
by  the  operation.” 

“Oh  Eugene,  Eugene  !” 

“ My  dear  Mortimer,  not  that  tone  of  melancholy  re- 
proach, I entreat.  What  can  I do  more  than  tell  you 
all  I know,  and  acknowledge  my  ignorance  of  all  I 
don’t  know ! How  does  that  little  old  song  go,  which, 
under  pretence  of  being  cheerful,  is  by  far  the  most 
lugubrious  I ever  heard  in  my  life  ? 

* Away  with  melancholy, 

Nor  doleful  changes  ring 
On  life  and  human  folly, 

But  merrily  merrily  sing 

Fal  la ! ’ 

Don’t  let  me  sing  Fal  la,  my  dear  Mortimer  (which  is 
comparatively  unmeaning),  but  let  us  sing  that  we  give 
up  guessing  the  riddle  altogether.” 

“Are  you  in  communication  with  this  girl,  Eugene, 
and  is  what  these  people  say  true  ? ” 

“I  concede  both  admissions  to  my  honourable  and 
learned  friend.” 


314 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Then  what  is  to  come  of  it  ? What  are  you  doing  ? 
Where  are  you  going  ? ’’ 

‘‘My  dear  Mortimer,  one  would  think  the  school- 
master had  left  behind  him  a catechising  infection. 
You  are  ruffled  by  the  want  of  another  cigar.  Take 
one  of  these,  I entreat.  Light  it  at  mine,  which  is  in 
perfect  order.  So  ! Now  do  me  the  justice  to  observe 
that  I am  doing  all  I can  towards  self-improvement,  and 
that  you  have  a light  thrown  on  those  household  imple- 
ments which,  when  you  only  saw  them  as  in  a glass 
darkly,  you  were  hastily — I must  say  hastily — inclined 
to  depreciate.  Sensible  of  my  deficiencies,  I have 
surrounded  myself  with  moral  influences  expressly 
meant  to  promote  the  formation  of  the  domestic  virtues. 
To  those  influences,  and  to  the  improving  society  of  my 
friends  from  boyhood,  commend  me  with  your  best 
wishes.’’ 

“Ah,  Eugene  !”  said  Light  wood,  affectionately,  now 
standing  near  him,  so  that  they  both  stood  in  one  little 
cloud  of  smoke  ; ‘ ^ I would  that  you  answered  my  three 
questions  ! What  is  to  come  of  it  ? What  are  you 
doing  ? Where  are  you  going  ? ” 

“And,  my  dear  Mortimer,”  returned  Eugene,  lightly 
fanning  away  the  smoke  with  his  hand  for  the  better 
exposition  of  his  frankness  of  face  and  manner,  “be- 
lieve me,  I would  answer  them  instantly  if  I could. 
But  to  enable  me  to  do  so,  I must  first  have  found  out' 
the  troublesome  conundrum  long  abandoned.  Here  it 
is.  Eugene  Wrayburn.”  Tapping  his  forehead  and 
breast.  “ Riddle-me-riddle-me-ree,  perhaps  you  can’t 
tell  me  what  this  may  be  ? — No,  upon  my  life  I can’t. 

I give  it  up  ! ” 


CHAPTER  VH. 

IN  WHICH  A FRIENDLY  MOVE  IS  ORIGINATED. 

The  arrangement  between  Mr.  Boffin  and  his  literary 
man,  Mr.  Silas  Wegg,  so  far  altered  with  the  altered 
habits  of  Mr.  Boffin’s  life,  as  that  the  Roman  Empire 
usually  declined  in  the  morning  and  in  the  eminently 
aristocratic  family  mansion,  rather  than  in  the  evening, 


A FRIENDLY  MOVE  ORIGINATED. 


315 


as  of  yore,  and  in  BoflSn’s  Bower.  There  were  occa- 
sions, however,  when  Mr.  Boffin,  seeking  a brief  refuge 
from  the  blandishments  of  fashion,  would  present  him- 
self at  the  Bower  after  dark,  to  anticipate  the  next 
sallying  forth  of  Wegg,  and  would  there,  on  the  old 
settle,  pursue  the  downward  fortunes  of  those  ener- 
vated and  corrupted  masters  of  the  world  who  were  by 
this  time  on  their  last  legs.  If  Wegg  had  been  worse 
paid  for  his  office,  or  better  qualified  to  discharge  it, 
he  would  have  considered  these  visits  complimentary 
and  agreeable  ; but,  holding  the  position  of  a hand- 
somely-remunerated humbug,  he  resented  them.  This 
was  quite  according  to  rule,  for  the  incompetent  serv- 
ant, by  whomsoever  employed,  is  always  against  his 
employer.  Even  those  born  governors,  noble  and  right 
honourable  creatures,  who  have  been  the  most  imbecile 
in  high  places,  have  uniformly  shown  themselves  the 
most  opposed  (sometimes  in  belying  distrust,  sometimes 
in  vapid  insolence)  to  their  employer.  What  is  in  such 
wise  true  of  the  public  master  and  servant,  is  equally 
true  of  the  private  master  and  servant  all  the  world 
over. 

When  Mr.  Silas  Wegg  did  at  last  obtain  free  access 
to  ^^Our  House,’’  as  he  had  been  wont  to  call  the  man- 
sion outside  which  he  had  sat  shelterless  so  long,  and 
when  he  did  at  last  find  it  ixi  all  particulars  as  different 
from  his  mental  plans  of  it  as  according  to  the  nature 
of  things  it  well  could  be,  that  far-seeing  and  far-reach- 
ing character,  by  way  of  asserting  himself  and  making- 
out  a case  for  compensation,  affected  to  fall  into  a mel- 
ancholy strain  of  musing  over  the  mournful  past;  as  if 
the  house  and  he  had  had  a fall  in  life  together. 

And  this,  sir,”  Silas  would  say  to  his  patron,  sadly 
nodding  his  head  and  musing,  ^^was  once  Our  House! 
This,  sir,  is  the  building  from  which  I have  so  often 
seen  those  great  creatures.  Miss  Elizabeth,  Master 
George,  Aunt  Jane,  and  Uncle  Parker” — whose  very 
names  were  of  his  own  inventing — ^^pass  and  repass! 
And  has  it  come  to  this,  indeed  ! Ah,  dear  me,  dear 
me  !” 

So  tender  were  his  lamentations,  that  the  kindly  Mr. 
Boffin  was  quite  sorry  for  him,  and  almost  felt  mistrust- 
ful that  in  buying  the  house  he  had  done  him  an  irre- 
parable injury. 


316 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Two  or  three  diplomatic  interviews,  the  result  of  great 
subtlety  on  Mr.  Wegg’s  part,  but  assuming  the  mask  of 
careless  yielding  to  a fortuitous  combination  of  circum- 
stances impelling  him  towards  Clerkenwell,  had  en- 
abled him  to  complete  his  bargain  with  Mr.  Venus. 

Bring  me  round  to  the  Bower,”  said  Silas,  when  the 
bargain  was  closed,  next  Saturday  evening,  and  if  a 
sociable  glass  of  old  Jamaikey  warm  should  meet  your 
views,  I am  not  the  man  to  begrudge  it.” 

You  are  aware  of  my  being  poor  company,  sir,”  re- 
plied Mr.  Venus,  but  be  it  so.” 

It  being  so,  here  is  Saturday  evening  come,  and  here 
is  Mr.  Venus  come,  and  ringing  at  the  Bower  gate. 

Mr.  Wegg  opens  the  gate,  descries  a sort  of  brown-pa- 
per truncheon  under  Mr.  Venus’s  arm,  and  remarks,  in 
a dry  tone:  ^^Oh!  I thought  perhaps  you  might  have 
come  in  a cab.” 

No,  Mr.  Wegg,”  replied  Venus.  I am  not  above  a 
parcel.” 

Above  a parcel  ! No  !”  says  Wegg,  with  some  dis- 
satisfaction. But  does  not  openly  growl,  ^^a  certain 
sort  of  parcel  might  be  above  you.” 

Here  is  your  purchase,  Mr.  Wegg,”  says  Venus,  i 
politely  handing  it  over,  and  J am  glad  to  restore  it  to  ; 
the  source  from  whence  it — flowed.” 

Thankee,”  says  Wegg.  ^^Now  this  affair  is  con- 
cluded, I may  mention  to  you  in  a friendly  way,  that 
I’ve  my  doubts  whether,  if  I had  consulted  a lawyer, 
you  could  have  kept  this  article  back  from  me.  I only 
throw  it  out  as  a legal  point.” 

Do  you  think  so,  Mr.  Wegg  ? I bought  you  in  open 
contract.” 

‘'You  can’t  buy  human  flesh  and  blood  in  this  coun- 
try, sir:  not  alive,  you  can’t,”  says  Wegg,  shaking  his 
head.  “Then  query,  bone?” 

“As  a legal  point?”  asks  Venu^. 

“As  a legal  point.” 

“ I am  not  competent  to  speak  upon  that,  Mr.  Wegg,” 
says  Venus,  reddening  and  growing  something  louder; 
“but  upon  a point  of  fact  I think  myself  competent  to 
speak;  and  as  a point  of  fact  I would  have  seen  you — 
will  you  allow  me  to  say,  further?” 

“I  wouldn’t  say  more  than  further,  if  I was  you,” 
Mr.  Wegg  suggests,  paciflcally. 


A FRIENDLY  MOVE  ORIGINATED. 


Sir 


— Before  Td  have  given  that  packet  into  your  hand 
without  being  paid  my  price  for  it.  I don’t  pretend  to 
know  how  the  point  of  law  may  stand,  but  I’m  thor- 
oughly confident  upon  the  point  of  fact.” 

As  Mr.  Venus  is  irritable  (no  doubt  owing  to  his  dis- 
appointment in  love),  and  as  it  is  not  the  cue  of  Mr. 
Wegg  to  have  him  out  of  temper,  the  latter  gentleman 
soothingly  remarks,  ^‘1  only  put  it  as  a little  case;  I 
only  put  it  ha’porthetically.” 

Then  I’d  rather,  Mr.  Wegg,  you  put  it  another  time, 
penn’orthetically,”  is  Mr.  Venus’s  retort,  ^^for  I tell  you 
candidly  I don’t  like  your  little  cases.” 

Arrived  by  this  time  in  Mr.  Wegg’s  sitting-room, 
made  bright  on  the  chilly  evening  by  gaslight  and  fire, 
Mr.  Venus  softens  and  compliments  him  on  his  abode; 
profiting  by  the  occasion  to  remind  Wegg  that  he 
(Venus)  told  him  he  had  got  into  a good  thing. 

Tolerable,”  Wegg  rejoins.  But  bear  in  mind,  Mr. 
Venus,  that  there’s  no  gold  without  its  alloy.  Mix  for 
yourself  and  take  a seat  in  the  chimney-corner.  Will 
you  perform  upon  a pipe,  sir?” 

I am  but  an  indifferent  performer,  sir,”  returns  the 
other;  ^‘^but  I’ll  accompany  you  with  a whiff  or  two  at 
intervals.” 

So,  Mr.  Venus  mixes,  and  Wegg  mixes;  and  Mr.  Venus 
lights  and  puffs,  and  Wegg  lights  and  puffs. 

^^And  there’s  alloy  even  in  this  metal  of  yours,  Mr. 
Wegg,  you  was  remarking?” 

Mystery,”  returns  Wegg.  I don’t  like  it,  Mr.  Venus. 
I don’t  like  to  have  the  life  knocked  out  of  former  in- 
habitants of  this  house,  in  the  gloomy  dark,  and  not 
know  who  did  it.” 

Might  you  have  any  suspicions,  Mr.  Wegg?” 

No,”  returns  that  gentleman.  I know  who  profits 
by  it.  But  I have  no  suspicions.” 

Having  said  which,  Mr.  Wegg  smokes  and  looks  at 
the  fire  with  a most  determined  expression  of  Charity; 
as  if  he  had  caught  that  cardinal  virtue  by  the  skirts 
as  she  felt  it  her  painful  duty  to  depart  from  him^  and 
held  her  by  main  force. 

Similarly,”  resumes  Wegg,  ^^I  have  observations  as 
I can  offer  upon  certain  points  and  parties;  but  I make 
no  objections,  Mr.  Venus.  Here  is  an  immense  fortune 
drops  from  the  clouds  upon  a person  that  shall  be  name- 


318 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


less.  Here  is  a weekly  allowance,  with  a certain  weight 
of  coals,  drops  from  the  clouds  upon  me.  Which  of  us 
is  the  better  man?  Not  the  person  that  shall  be  name- 
less. That’s  an  observation  of  mine,  but  I don’t  make 
it  an  objection.  I take  my  allowance  and  my  certain 
weight  of  coals.  He  takes  his  fortune.  That’s  the  way 
it  works.” 

It  would  be  a good  thing  for  me  if  I could  see  things 
in  the  calm  light  you  do,  Mr.  Wegg.” 

Again  look  here,”  pursues  Silas,  with  an  oratorical 
flourish  of  his  pipe  and  his  wooden  leg;  the  latter  having 
an  undignifled  tendency  to  tilt  him  back  in  his  chair; 
'^here’s  another  observation,  Mr.  Venus,  unaccompanied 
with  an  objection.  Him  that  shall  be  nameless  is  liable 
to  be  talked  over.  He  gets  talked  over.  Him  that  shall 
be  nameless,  having  me  at  his  right  hand,  naturally 
looking  to  be  promoted  higher,  and  you  may  perhaps 

say  meriting  to  be  promoted  higher ” 

(Mr.  Venus  murmurs  that  he  does  say  so.) 

— Him  that  shall  be  nameless,  under  such  circum- 
stances passes  me  by,  and  puts  a talking-over  stranger 
above  my  head.  Which  of  us  two  is  the  better  man? 
Which  of  us  two  can  repeat  the  most  poetry?  Which 
of  us  two  has,  in  the  service  of  him  that  shall  be  name- 
less, tackled  the  Romans,  both  civil  and  military,  till  he 
has  got  as  lucky  as  if  he’d  been  weaned  and  ever  since 
brought  up  on  sawdust?  Not  the  talking-over  stranger. 
Yet  the  house  is  as  free  to  him  as  if  it  was  his,  and  he 
has  his  room,  and  is  put  upon  a footing,  and  draws 
about  a thousand  a year.  I am  banished  to  the  Bower, 
to  be  found  in  it  like  a piece  of  furniture  whenever 
wanted.  Merit,  therefore,  don’t  win.  That’s  the  way 
it  works.  I observe  it,  because  I can’t  help  observing 
it,  being  accustomed  to  take  a powerful  sight  of  notice; 
but  I don't  object.  Ever  here  before,  Mr.  Venus?” 

^^Not  inside  the  gate,  Mr.  Wegg.” 

You’ve  been  as  far  as  the  gate,  then,  Mr.  Venus?” 
^Wes,  Mr.  Wegg,  and  peeped  in  from  curiosity.” 

Did  you  see  anything  ?” 

Nothing  but  the  dust-yard.” 

Mr.  Wegg  rolls  his  eyes  all  round  the  room,  in  that 
ever  unsatisfied  quest  of  his,  and  then  rolls  his  eyes  all 
round  Mr.  Venus  ; as  if  suspicious  of  his  having  some- 
thing about  him  to  be  found  out. 


A FRIENDLY  MOVE  ORIGINATED. 


319 


And  yet,  sir/’  he  pursues,  being  acquainted  with 
old  Mr.  Harmon,  one  would  have  thought  it  might  have 
been  polite  in  you,  too,  to  give  him  a call.  And  you’re 
naturally  of  a polite  disposition,  you  are.”  This  last 
clause  as  a softening  compliment  to  Mr.  Venus. 

^^It  is  true,  sir,”  replies  Venus,  winking  his  weak 
eyes,  and  running  his  fingers  through  his  dusky  shock 
of  hair,  ^Ghat  I was  so,  before  a certain  observation 
soured  me.  You  understand  to  what  I allude,  Mr. 
Wegg?  To  a certain  written  statement  respecting  not 
wishing  to  be  regarded  in  a certain  light.  Since  that, 
all  is  fied,  save  gall.” 

Not  all,”  says  Mr.  Wegg,  in  a tone  of  sentimental 
condolence. 

^Wes,  sir,”  returns  Venus,  ^^all!  The  world  may  deem 
it  harsh,  but  I’d  quite  as  soon  pitch  into  my  best  friend 
as  not.  Indeed,  I’d  sooner  ! ” 

Involuntarlv  making  a pass  with  his  wooden  leg  to 
guard  himselr  as  Mr.  Venus  springs  up  in  the  emphasis 
of  this  unsociable  declaration,  Mr.  Wegg  tilts  over  on 
his  back,  chair  and  all,  and  is  rescued  by  that  harmless 
misanthrope,  in  a disjointed  state,  and  ruefully  rubbing 
his  head. 

Why,  you  lost  your  balance,  Mr.  Wegg,”  says  Venus, 
handing  him  his  pipe. 

And  about  time  to  do  it,”  grumbles  Silas,  ^^when  a 
man’s  visitors,  without  a word  of  notice,  conduct  them- 
selves with  the  sudden  wiciousness  of  Jacks-in-boxes! 
Don’t  come  fiying  out  of  your  chair  like  that,  Mr. 
Venus!” 

I ask  your  pardon,  Mr.  Wegg.  I am  so  soured.” 

^Wes,  but  hang  it,”  says  Wegg  argumentatively,  ^^a 
well-governed  mind  can  be  soured  sitting!  And  as  to 
being  regarded  in  lights,  there’s  bumpy  lights  as  well  as 
bony.  In  which,”  again  rubbing  his  head,  object  to 
regard  myself.”  ^ 

I’ll  bear  it  in  memory,  sir.” 

^Yf  you’ll  be  so  good.”  Mr.  Wegg  slowly  subdues  his 
ironical  tone  and  his  lingering  irritation,  and  resumes 
his  pipe.  We  were  talking  of  old  Mr.  Harmon  being 
a friend  of  yours.” 

^^Not  a friend,  Mr.  Wegg.  Only  known  to  speak 
to,  and  to  have  a little  deal  with  now  and  then.  A 
very  inquisitive  character,  Mr.  Wegg,  regarding  what 


320 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


was  found  in  the  dust.  As  inquisitive  as  secret.’’ 

Ah!  You  found  him  secret  ?”  returns  Wegg,  with  a 
greedy  relish. 

He  had  always  the  look  of  it,  and  the  manner  of  it.” 

^A4h!”  with  another  roll  of  his  eyes.  As  to  what 
was  found  in  the  dust  now.  Did  you  ever  hear  him 
mention  how  he  found  it,  my  dear  friend  ? Living  on 
the  mysterious  premises,  one  would  like  to  know.  For 
instance,  where  he  found  things  ? Or,  for  instance,  how 
he  set  about  it  ? Whether  he  began  at  the  top  of  the 
mounds,  or  whether  he  began  at  the  bottom.  Whether 
he  prodded;  ” Mr.  Wegg’s  pantomime  is  skilful  and  ex- 
pressive here;  or  whether  he  scooped  ? Should  you  say 
scooped,  my  dear  Mr.  Venus;  or  should  you — as  a man — 
say  prodded  ? ” 

should  say  neither,  Mr.  Wegg.” 

As  a fellow-man,  Mr.  Venus — mix  again — why  nei- 
ther p ’’ 

Because  I suppose,  sir,  that  what  was  found,  was 
found  in  the  sorting  and  sifting.  All  the  mounds  are 
sorted  and  sifted  ? ” 

^Wou  shall  see  ’em  and  pass  your  opinion.  Mix 
again  ? ” 

On  each  occasion  of  his  saying  ^^mix  again,”  Mr. 
W egg,  with  a hop  on  his  wooden  leg,  hitches  his  chair 
a little  nearer ; more  as  if  he  were  proposing  that  him- 
self and  Mr.  Venus  should  mix  again,  than  that  they 
should  replenish  their  glasses. 

Living  (as  I said  before)  on  the  mysterious  prem- 
ises,” says  Wegg  when  the  other  has  acted  on  his  hos- 
pitable entreaty,  ^^one  likes  to  know.  Would  you  be 
inclined  to  say  now — as  a brother — that  he  ever  hid 
things  in  the  dust,  as  well  as  found  ’em  ? ” 

'^Mr.  Wegg,  on  the  whole,  I should  say  he  might.” 

Mr.  Wegg  claps  on  his  spectacles,  and  admiringly 
surveys  Mr.  Venus  from  head  to  foot. 

As  a mortal  equally  with  myself,  whose  hand  I take 
in  mine  for  the  first  time  this  day,  having  accountably 
overlooked  that  act  so  full  of  boundless  confidence  bind- 
ing a fellow-creetur  to  a fellow-creetur,”  says  Wegg, 
holding  Mr.  Venus’s  palm  out  flat  and  ready  for  smiting, 
and  now  smiting  it ; as  such — and  no  other — for  I scorn 
all  lowlier  ties  betwixt  myself  and  the  man  walking  with 
his  face  erect  that  alone  I call  my  Twin — regarded  and 


A FRIENDLY  MOVE  ORIGINATED. 


321 


regarding  in  this  trustful  bond — what  do  you  think  he 
might  have  hid  ? ” 

It  is  but  a supposition,  Mr.  Wegg.’’ 

^‘As  a Being  with  his  hand  upon  his  heart/’  cries 
Wegg ; and  the  apostrophe  is  not  the  less  impressive 
for  the  Being’s  hand  being  actually  upon  his  rum-and- 
water  ; put  your  supposition  into  language,  and  bring 
it  out,  Mr.  Venus  !” 

''  He  was  the  species  of  old  gentleman,  sir,”  slowly 
returns  that  practical  anatomist,  after  drinking,  ^^that 
I should  judge  likely  to  take  such  opportunities  as  this 
place  offered  of  stowing  away  money,  valuables,  may 
be  papers.” 

As  one  that  was  ever  an  ornament  of  human  life,” 
says  Mr.  Wegg,  again  holding  out  Mr.  Venus’s  palm  as 
if  he  were  going  to  tell  his  fortune  by  chiromancy,  and 
holding  his  own  up  ready  for  smiting  it  when  the  time 
should  come:  ^^as  one  that  the  poet  might  have  had 
his  eye  on,  in  writing  the  national  naval  words  : 

Helm  a- weather,  now  lay  her  close. 

Yard-arm  and  yard-arm  she  lies  ; 

Again,  cried  I,  Mr.  Venus,  give  her  t’other  dose, 

Man  shrouds  and  grapple,  sir,  or  she  flies! 

—that  is  to  say,  regarded  in  the  light  of  true  British 
Oak,  for  such  you  are — explain,  Mr.  Venus,  the  expres- 
sion ^ papers  ’ ! ” 

Seeing  that  the  old  gentleman  was  generally  cutting 
off  some  near  relation,  or  blocking  out  some  natural 
affection,”  Mr.  Venus  rejoins,  ^Gie  most  likely  made  a 
good  many  wills  and  codicils.” 

The  palm  of  Silas  Wegg  descends  with  a sounding 
smack  upon  the  palm  of  Venus,  and  Wegg  lavishly 
exclaims,  Twin  in  opinion  equally  with  feeling  ! Mix 
a little  more  ! ” 

Having  now  hitched  his  wooden  leg  and  his  chair 
close  in  front  of  Mr.  Venus,  Mr.  Wegg  rapidly  mixes 
for  both,  gives  his  visitor  his  glass,  touches  its  rim  with 
the  rim  of  his  own,  puts  his  own  to  his  lips,  puts  it 
down,  and  spreading  his  hands  on  his  visitor’s  knees, 
thus  addresses  him : 

Mr.  Venus!  It  ain’t  that  I object  to  being  passed 
over  for  a stranger,  though  I regard  the  stranger  as  a 
more  than  doubtful  customer.  It  ain’t  for  the  sake  of 
making  money,  though  money  is  ever  welcome.  It 

VOL.  I.  2i 


322 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


ain’t  for  myself,  though  I am  not  so  haughty  as  to  be 
above  doing  myself  a good  turn.  It’s  for  the  cause  of 
the  right.” 

Mr.  Venus,  passively  winking  his  weak  eyes  both  at 
once,  demands  : ''  AVhat  is,  Mr.  Wegg  ?” 

'^The  friendly  move,  sir,  that  I now  propose.  You 
see  the  move,  sir  ? ” 

Till  you  have  pointed  it  out,  Mr.  Wegg,  I can’t  say 
whether  I do  or  not.” 

If  there  is  anything  to  be  found  on  these  premises, 
let  us  find  it  together.  Let  us  make  the  friendly  move 
of  agreeing  to  look  for  it  together.  Let  us  make  the 
friendly  move  of  agreeing  to  share  the  profits  of  it 
equally  betwixt  us.  In  the  cause  of  the  right.”  Thus 
Silas,  assuming  a noble  air. 

Then,”  says  Mr.  Venus,  looking  up,  after  meditating 
with  his  hair  held  in  his  hands,  as  if  he  could  only  fix 
his  attention  by  fixing  his  head  ; if  anything  was  to 
be  unburied  from  under  the  dust,  it  would  be  kept 
a secret  by  you  and  me  ? Would  that  be  it,  Mr. 
Wegg  ?” 

^^That  would  depend  upon  what  it  was,  Mr.  Venus. 
Say  it  was  money,  or  plate,  or  jewellery,  it  would  be 
as  much  ours  as  anybody  else’s.” 

Mr.  Venus  rubs  an  eyebrow,  interrogatively. 

■ ^ In  the  cause  of  the  right  it  would.  Because  it  would 
be  unknowingly  sold  with  the  mounds  else,  and  the 
buyer  would  get  what  he  was  never  meant  to  have,  and 
never  bought.  And  what  would  that  be,  Mr.  V^ius, 
but  the  cause  of  the  wrong  ? ” 

Say  it  was  papers,”  Mr.  Venus  propounds. 

According  to  what  they  contained  we  should  offer 
to  dispose  of  ’em  to  the  parties  most  interested,”  replied 
Wegg,  promptly. 

In  the  cause  of  the  right,  Mr.  Wegg?” 

^A^lways  so,  Mr.  Venus.  If  the  parties  should  use 
them  in  the  cause  of  the  wrong,  that  would  he  their  act 
and  deed.  Mr.  Venus,  I have  an  opinion  of  you,  sir,  to 
which  it  is  not  easy  to  give  mouth.  Since  I called  upon 
you  that  evening  when  you  were,  as  I may  say,  fioating 
your  powerful  mind  in  tea,  I have  felt  that  you  required 
to  be  roused  with  an  object.  In  this  friendly  move, 
sir,  you  will  have  a glorious  object  to  rouse  you.” 

Mr.  Wegg  then  goes  on  to  enlarge  upon  what  through- 


A FRIENDLY  MOVE  ORIGINATED. 


323 


out  has  been  uppermost  in  his  crafty  mind: — the  quali- 
fications of  Mr.  Venus  for  such  a search.  He  expatiates 
on  Mr.  Venus’s  patient  habits  and  delicate  manipula- 
tion; on  his  skill  in  piecing  little  things  together;  on  his 
knowledge  of  various  tissues  and  textures;  on  the  like- 
lihood of  small  indications  leading  him  on  to  the  discov- 
ery of  great  concealments^  While  as  to  myself,”  says 
Wegg,  I am  not  good  at  it.  Whether  I gave  myself  up 
to  prodding,  or  whether  I gave  myself  up  to  scooping,  I 
couldn’t  do  it  with  that  delicate  touch  so  as  not  to  show 
that  I was  disturbing  the  mounds.  Quite  different  with 
you,  going  to  work  (as  you  would)  in  the  light  of  a fellow- 
man,  holily  pledged  in  a friendly  move  to  his  brother 
man.”  Mr.  Wegg  next  modestly  remarks  on  the  want 
of  adaptation  in  a wooden  leg  to  ladders  and  such  like 
airy  perches,  and  also  hints  at  an  inherent  tendency  in 
that  timber  fiction,  when  called  into  action  for  the  pur- 
poses of  a promenade  on  an  ashy  slope,  to  stick  itself 
into  the  yielding  foothold,  and  peg  its  owner  to  one 
spot.  Then,  leaving  this  part  of  the  subject,  he  remarks 
on  the  special  phenomenon  that,  before  his  installation 
in  the  Bower,  it  was  from  Mr.  Venus  that  he  first  heard 
of  the  legend  of  hidden  wealth  in  the  mounds;  ^^which,” 
he  observes  with  a vaguely  pious  air,  was  surely  never 
meant  for  nothing.”  Lastly,  he  returns  to  the  cause  of 
the  right,  gloomily  foreshadowing  the  possibility  of 
something  being  unearthed  to  criminate  Mr.  Boffin 
(of  wffiich  he  once  more  candidly  admits  it  cannot  be 
denied  that  he  profits  by  a murder),  and  anticipating 
his  denunciation  by  the  friendly  movers  to  avenging  jus- 
tice. And  this,  Mr.  Wegg  expressly  points  out,  not  at 
all  for  the  sake  of  the  reward — though  it  would  be  a 
want  of  principle  not  to  take  it. 

To  all  this  Mr.  Venus,  with  his  shock  of  dusty  hair 
cocked  after  the  manner  of  a terrier’s  ears,  attends  pro- 
foundly. When  Mr.  Wegg,  having  finished,  opens  his 
arms  wide,  as  if  to  show  Mr.  Venus  how  bare  his  breast 
is,  ajid  then  folds  them  pending  a reply,  Mr.  Venus 
winks  at  him  with  both  eyes  some  little  time  before 
speaking. 

see  you  have  tried  it  by  yourself,  Mr.  Wegg,”  he 
says  when  he  does  speak.  'Won  have  found  out  the 
difficulties  by  experience.” 

''  No,  it  can  hardly  Ijo  said  that  I have  tried  it,”  re- 


324 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


plies  Wegg,  a little  dashed  by  the  hint.  have  just 
skimmed  it.  Skimmed  it.’’ 

And  found  nothing  besides  the  difficulties  ? ” 

Wegg  shakes  his  head. 

‘‘1  scarcely*  know  what  to  say  to  this,  Mr.  Wegg,” 
observes  Venus'  after  ruminating  for  awhile. 

''  Say  yes,”  Wegg  naturally  urges. 

^Mf  I wasn’t  soured,  my  ailswer  would  be  no.  But 
being  soured,  Mr.  Wegg,  and  driven  to  reckless  mad- 
ness and  desperation,  I suppose  it’s  Yes.” 

Wegg  joyfully  reproduces  the  two  glasses,  repeats 
the  ceremony  of  clinking  their  rims,  and  inwardly 
drinks  with  great  heartiness  to  the  health  and  success 
in  life  of  the  young  lady  who  has  reduced  Mr.  Venus  to 
his  present  convenient  state  of  mind. 

The  articles  of  the  friendly  move  are  then  severally 
recited  and  agreed  upon.  They  are  but  secrecy,  fidelity, 
and  perseverance.  The  Bower  to  be  always  free  of  ac- 
cess to  Mr.  Venus  for  his  researches,  and  every  pre- 
caution to  be  taken  against  their  attracting  observation 
in  the  neighbourhood. 

There’s  a footstep  ! ” exclaims  Venus. 

Where  ?”  cries  Wegg,  starting. 

'^Outside.  St!” 

They  are  in  the  act  of  ratifying  the  treaty  of  friendly 
move,  by  shaking  hands  upon  it.  They  softly  break  off*, 
light  their  pipes  which  have  gone  out,  and  lean  back  in 
their  chairs.  No  doubt,  a footstep.  It  approaches  the 
window,  and  a hand  taps  at  the  glass.  ‘‘Come  in  !” 
calls  Wegg;  meaning  come  round  by  the  door.  But  the 
heavy  old-fashioned  sash  is  slowly  raised,  and  a head 
slowly  looks' in  out  of  the  dark  background  of  night. 

“ Pray  is  Mr.  Silas  Wegg  here  ? Oh  ! I see  him  !” 

The  friendly  movers  might  not  have  been  quite  at 
their  ease,  even  though  the  visitor  had  entered  in  the 
usual  manner.  But,  leaning  on  the  breast-high  window, 
and  staring  in  out  of  the  darkness,  they  find  the  visitor 
extremely  embarrassing.  Especially  Mr.  Venus:. who 
removes  his  pipe,  draws  back  his  head,  and  stares  at 
the  starer,  as  if  it  were  his  own  Hindoo  baby  come  to 
fetch  him  home. 

“Good  evening,  Mr.  Wegg.  The  yard  gate-lock 
should  be  looked  to,  if  you  please;  it  don’t  catch.” 

“Is  it  Mr.  Rokesmith  ?”  falters  Wegg. 


A FRIEKLif  iMOVE  ORIGINATED. 


325 


“ It  is  Mr.  Rokesmith.  Don’t  let  me  disturb  you.  I 
am  not  coming’  in.  I have  only  a message  for  you, 
which  I undertook  to  deliver  on  my  way  home  to  my 
lodgings.  I was  in  two  minds  about  coming  beyond 
the  gate  without  ringing  : not  knowing  but  you  might 
have  a dog  about.  ” 

“I  wish  I had,”  mutters  Wegg,  with  his  back  turned 
as  he  rose  from  his  chair.  “St!  Hush!  The  talking- 
over  stranger,  Mr.  Venus.” 

“Is  that  any  one  I know?”  inquires  the  staring 
Secretary. 

“No,  Mr.  Rokesmith.  Friend  of  mine.  Passing  the 
evening  with  me.” 

“Oh  ! I beg  his  pardon.  Mr.  Boffin  wishes  you  to 
know  that  he  does  not  expect  you  to  stay  at  home  any 
evening,  on  the  chance  of  his  coming.  It  has  occurred 
to  him  that  he  may,  without  intending  it,  have  been  a 
tie  upon  you.  In  future,  if  he  should  come  without 
notice,  he  will  take  his  chance  of  finding  you,  and  it 
will  be  all  the  same  to  him  if  he  does  not.  I undertook 
to  tell  you  on  my  way.  That’s  all.” 

With  that,  and  “Good  night,”  the  Secretary  lowers 
the  window,  and  disappears.  They  listen  and  hear  his 
footsteps  go  back  to  the  gate,  and  hear  the  gate  close 
after  him. 

“ And  for  that  individual,  Mr.  Venus,”  remarks  Wegg, 
when  he  is  fully  gone,  “ Jhave  been  passed  over  ! Let 
me  ask  you  what  you  think  of  him  ? ” 

Apparently,  Mr.  Venus  does  not  know  what  to  think 
of  him,  for  he  makes  sundry  efforts  to  reply,  without 
delivering  himself  of  any  other  articulate  utterance  than 
that  he  has  “a  singular  look.” 

“A  double  look,  you  mean,  sir,”  rejoins  Wegg,  play- 
ing bitterly  upon  the  word.  “That’s  his  look.  Any 
amount  of  singular  look  for  me,  but  not  a double  look  ! 
That’s  an  underhanded  mind,  sir.” 

“ Do  you  say  there’s  something  against  him  ?”  Venus 
asks. 

“Something  against  him  ?”  repeats  Wegg.  “Some- 
thing ? What  would  the  relief  be  to  my  feelings — as  a 
tellow-man— if  I wasn’t  the  slave  of  truth,  and  didn’t 
teel  myself  compelled  to  answer.  Everything  ! ” 

See  into  what  wonderful  maudlin  refuges  featherless 
ostriches  plunge  their  heads  ! It  is  such  unspeakable. 


326 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


moral  compensation  to  Wegg  to  be  overcome  by  the 
consideration  that  Mr.  Rokesmith  has  an  underhanded 
mind  ! 

^^On  this  starlight  night;  Mr.  Venus/’  he  remarks, 
when  he  is  showing  that  friendly  mover  out  across  the 
yard,  and  both  are  something  the  worse  for  mixing 
again  and  again  : on  this  starlight  night  to  think  that 
talking-over  strangers,  and  underhanded  minds,  can  go 
walking  home  under  the  sky,  as  if  they  was  all 
square ! ” 

The  spectacle  of  those  orbs,”  says  Mr.  Venus,  gazing 
upwards  with  his  hat  tumbling  off,  brings  heavy  on  me 
her  crushing  words  that  she  did  not  wish  to  regard  her- 
self nor  yet  to  be  regarded  in  that ” 

I know!  I know  I You  needn’t  repeat  ’em,”  says 
Wegg,  pressing  his  hand.  ^^But  think  how  those  stars 
steady  me  in  the  cause  of  the  right  against  some  that 
shall  be  nameless.  It  isn’t  that  I bear  malice.  But  see 
how  they  glisten  with  old  remembrances  ! Old  remem- 
brances of  what,  sir  ? ” 

Mr.  Venus  begins  drearily  replying,  Of  her  words,  in 
her  own  handwriting,  that  she  does  not  wish  to  regard 

herself,  nor  yet ” when  Silas  cuts  him  short  with 

ffignity. 

‘^No,  sir  ! Remembrances  of  Our  House,  of  Master 
George,  of  Aunt  Jane,  of  Uncle  Parker,  all  laid  waste  ! 
All  offered  up  sacrifices  to  the  minion  of  fortune  and 
the  worm  of  the  hour  ! ” 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


IN  WHICH  AN  INNOCENT  ELOPEMENT  OCCURS. 

HE  minion  of  fortune  and  the  worm  of  the  hour,  or 


JL  in  less  cutting  language,  Nicodemus  Boffin,  Esquire, 
the  Golden  Dustman,  had  become  as  much  at  home  in 
his  eminently  aristocratic  family  mansion  as  he  was 
likely  ever  to  be.  He  could  not  but  feel  that,  like  an 
eminently  aristocratic  family  cheese,  it  was  much  too 
large  for  his  wants,  and  bred  an  infinite  amount  of  par- 
asites ; but  he  was  content  to  regard  this  drawback  on 
his  property  as  a short  of  perpetual  Legacy  Duty.  He 
felt  the  more  resigned  to  it.  forasmuch  as  Mrs.  Boffin 


AN  INNOCENT  ELOPEMENT  OCCURS.  ^327 


enjoyed  herself  completely,  and  Miss  Bella  was  de- 
lighted. 

That  young  lady  was,  no  doubt,  an  acquisition  to  the 
Boffins.  She  was  far  too  quick  of  perception  to  be  below 
the  tone  of  her  new  career.  Whether  it  improved  her 
heart  might  be  a matter  of  taste  that  was  open  to  ques- 
tion ; but  as  touching  another  matter  of  taste,  its  im- 
provement of  her  appearance  and  manner,  there  could 
be  no  question  whatever. 

And  thus  it  soon  came  about  that  Miss  Bella  began 
to  set  Mrs.  Boffin  right ; and  even  further,  that  Miss 
Bella  began  to  feel  ill  at  ease,  and  as  it  where  respon- 
sible, when  she  saw  Mrs.  Boffin  going  wrong.  Not  that 
so  sweet  a disposition  and  so  sound  a nature  could  ever 
go  very  wrong  even  among  the  great  visiting  author- 
ities who  agreed  that  the  Boffins  were  charmingly 
vulgar  ” (which  for  certain  was  not  their  own  case  in 
saying  so),  but  that  when  she  made  a slip  on  the  social 
ice  on  which  all  the  children  of  Podsnappery,  with 
genteel  souls  to  be  saved,  are  required  to  skate  in  circles, 
or  to  slide  in  long  rows,  she  inevitable  tripped  Miss  Bella 
up  (so  that  young  lady  felt),  and  caused  her  to 
experience  great  confusion  under  the  glances  of  the 
more  skilful  performers  engaged  in  those  ice-exercises. 

At  Miss  Bella’s  time  of  life  it  was  not  to  be  expected 
that  she  should  examine  herself  very  closely  on  the 
congruity  or  stability  of  her  position  in  Mr.  Boffin’s 
house.  And  as  she  had  never  been  sparing  of  com- 
plaints of  her  old  home  when  she  had  no  other  to  com- 
pare it  with,  so  there  was  no  novelty  of  ingratitude  or 
disdain  in  her  very  much  preferring  her  new  one. 

An  invaluable  man  in  Rokesmith,”  said  Mr.  Boffin, 
after  some  two  or  three  months.  ^^But  I can’t  quite 
make  him  out.” 

Neither  could  Bella,  so  she  found  the  subject  rather 
interesting. 

He  takes  more  care  of  my  affairs,  morning,  noon, 
and  night,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  ^^than  fifty  other  men  put 
together  either  could  or  would;  and  yet  he  has  ways  of 
his  own  that  are  like  tying  a scaffolding-pole  right 
across  the  road,  and  bringing  me  up  short  when  I am 
almost  a walking  arm-in-arm  with  him.” 

May  I ask  how  so,  sir?”  inquired  Bella. 

^^Well,  my  dear,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  ^'he  won’t  meet 


328 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


any  company  here,  but  you.  When  we  have  visitors, 
I should  wish  him  to  have  his  regular  place  at  the  table 
like  ourselves;  but  no,  he*  won’t  take  it.” 

he  considers  himself  above  it,”  said  Miss  Bella, 
with  an  airy  toss  of  her  head,  I should  leave  him 
alone.” 

‘^^It  ain’t  that,”  my  dear,”  replied  Mr.  Boffin,  thinking 
it  over.  He  don’t  consider  himself  above  it.” 

Perhaps  he  considers  himself  beneath  it,”  suggested 
Bella.  If  so  he  ought  to  know  best.” 

No,  my  dear;  nor  it  ain’t  that,  neither.  No,”  repeated 
Mr.  Boffin,  with  a shake  of  his  head,  after  again  think- 
ing it  over;  Rokesmith’s  a modest  man,  but  he  don’t 
consider  himself  beneath  it.” 

•'^Then  what  does  he  consider,  sir?”  asked  Bella. 

Dashed  if  I know!”  said  Mr.  Boffin.  ‘‘It  seemed 
at  first  as  if  it  was  only  Light  wood  that  he  objected  to 
meet.  And  now  it  seems  to  be  everybody,  except  you.” 

Oho  ! ” thought  Miss  Bella.  ''  Indeed  ! That's  it,  is 
it  ! ” For  Mr.  Mortimer  Lightwood  had  dined  there  two 
or  three  times,  and  she  had  met  him  elsewhere,  and  he 
had  shown  her  some  attention.  Rather  cool  in  a Sec- 
retary— and  Pa’s  lodger — to  make  me  the  subject  of  his 
jealousy!” 

That  Pa’s  daughter  should  be  so  contemptuous  of  Pa's 
lodger  was  odd  ; but  there  were  odder  anomalies  than 
that  in  the  mind  of  the  spoilt  girl  : the  doubly  spoilt 
girl  : spoilt  first  by  poverty,  and  then  by  wealth.  Be  it 
this  history’s  part,  however,  to  leave  them  to  unravel 
themselves. 

A little  too  much,  I think,”  Miss  Bella  reflected 
scornfully,  ^^to  have  Pa’s  lodger  laying  claim  to  me, 
and  keeping  eligible  people  off  ! A little  too  much,  in- 
deed, to  have  the  opportunities  opened  to  me  by  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Boffin  appropriated  by  a mere  Secretary,  and 
Pa’s  lodger  ! ” 

Yet  it  was  not  so  very  long  ago  that  Bella  had  been 
fluttered  by  the  discovery  that  this  same  Secretary  and 
lodger  seemed  to  like  her.  Ah ! but  the  eminently  aris- 
tocratic mansion  and  Mrs.  Boffin’s  dressmaker  had  not 
come  into  play  then. 

In  spite  of  his  seemingly  retiring  manners  a very  in- 
trusive person,  this  Secretary  and  Lodger,  in  Miss  Bel- 
la’s opinion.  Always  a light  in  his  office-room  when  we 


pa’s  lodger,  and  pa’s  daughter. 


Our  Mutual  Friend 


AN  INNOCENT  ELOPEMENT  OCCURS. 


S29 


came  home  from  the  play  or  Opera,  and  he  always  at 
the  carriage  door  to  hand  us  out.  Always  a provoking 
radiance,  too,  on  Mrs.  Boffin’s  face,  and  an  abominably 
cheerful  reception  of  him,  as  if  it  were  possible  seriously 
to  approve  what  the  man  had  in  his  mind  ! 

You  never  charge  me.  Miss  Wilfer,”  said  the  Secre- 
tary, encountering  her  by  chance  alone  in  the  great 
drawing-room,  with  commissions  for  home.  I shall 
always  be  happy  to  execute  any  commands  you  may 
have  in  that  direction.” 

Pray  what  may  you  mean,  Mr.  Rokesmith?”  in- 
quired Miss  Bella,  with  languidly-drooping  eyelids. 

By  home  ? I mean  your  father’s  house  at  Hol- 
loway.” 

She  coloured  under  the  retort — so  skilfully  thrust,  that 
the  words  seemed  to  be  merely  a plain  answer,  given  in 
plain  good  faith — and  said,  rather  more  emphatically 
and  sharply  : 

What  commissions  and  commands  are  you  speak- 
ing of  ? ” 

Only  such  little  words  of  remembrance  as  I assume 
you  send  somehow  or  other,”  replied  the  Secretary  with 
his  former  air.  It  would  be  a pleasure  to  me  if  you 
would  make  me  the  bearer  of  them.  As  you  know,  I 
come  and  go  between  the  two  houses  every  day.” 

You  needn’t  remind  me  of  that,  sir.” 

She  was  too  quick  in  this  petulent  sally  against  Pa’s 
lodger  ; ” and  she  felt  that  she  had  been  so  when  she 
met  his  quiet  look. 

They  don’t  send  many — what  was  your  expres- 
sion ? — words  of  remembrance  to  me,”  said  Bella, 
making  haste  to  take  refuge  in  ill-usage. 

They  frequently  ask  me  about  you,  and  I give  them 
such  slight  intelligence  as  I can.” 

I hope  it’s  truly  given,”  exclaimed  Bella. 

‘^I  hope  you  cannot  doubt  it,  for  it  would  be  very 
much  against  you  if  you  could.” 

No,  I do  not  doubt  it.  I deserve  the  reproach,  which 
is  very  just  indeed.  I beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Roke- 
smith.” 

I should  beg  you  not  to  do  so,  but  that  it  shows  you 
to  such  admirable  advantage,”  he  replied  with  earnest- 
ness. Forgive  me  ; I could  not  help  saying  that.  To 
return  to  what  I have  digressed  from,  let  me  add  that 


330 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


perhaps  they  think  I report  them  to  you,  deliver  little 
messages,  and  the  like.  But  I forbear  to  trouble  you, 
as  you  never  ask  me.” 

I am  going,  sir,”  said  Bella,  looking  at  him  as  if  he 
had  reproved  her,  to  see  them  to-morrow.” 

Is  that,”  he  asked,  hesitating,  said  to  me,  or  to 
them  ? ” 

''  To  which  you  please.” 

To  both  ? Shall  I make  it  a message  ?” 

‘'‘'You  can  if  you  like,  Mr.  Rokesmith.  Message  or 
no  message,  I am  going  to  see  them  to-morrow.” 

Then  I will  tell  them  so.” 

He  lingered  a moment,  as  though  to  give  her  the  op- 
portunity of  prolonging  the  conversation  if  she  wished. 
As  she  remained  silent,  he  left  her.  Two  incidents  of 
the  little  interview  were  felt  by  Miss  Bella  herself, 
when  alone  again,  to  be  very  curious.  The  first  was,  that 
he  unquestionably  left  her  with  a penitent  air  upon  her, 
and  a penitent  feeling  in  her  heart.  The  second  was, 
that  she  had  not  had  an  intention  or  a thought  of  going 
home  until  she  had  announced  it  to  him  as  a settled 
design. 

What  can  I mean  by  it,  or  what  can  he  mean  by  it?” 
was  her  mental  inquiry  : He  has  no  right  to  any  power 
over  me,  and  how  do  I come  to  mind  him  when  I don’t 
care  for  him  ?” 

Mrs.  Boffin  insisting  that  Bella  should  make  to- 
morrow’s expedition  in  the  chariot,  she  went  home  in 
great  grandeur.  Mrs.  Wilfer  and  Miss  Lavinia  had 
speculated  much  on  the  probabilities  and  improbabili- 
ties of  her  coming  in  this  gorgeous  state,  and,  on  behold- 
ing the  chariot  from  the  window  at  which  they  were 
secreted  to  look  out  for  it,  agreed  that  it  must  be  de- 
tained at  the  door  as  long  as  possible,  for  the  mortifica- 
tion and  confusion  of  the  neighbours.  Then  they  re- 
paired to  the  usual  family-room,  to  receive  Miss  Bella 
with  a becoming  show  of  indifference. 

The  family-room  looked  very  small  and  very  mean, 
and  the  downward  staircase  by  which  it  was  attained 
looked  very  narrow  and  very  crooked.  The  little  house 
and  all  its  arrangements  were  a poor  contrast  to  the 
eminently  aristocratic  dwelling.  can  hardly  be- 

lieve,” thought  Bella,  ^‘that  I ever  did  endure  life  in 
this  place  ! ” 


AN  INNOCENT  ELOPEMENI  OCCURS. 


331 


Gloomy  majesty  on  the  part  of  Mrs.  Wilfer,  and 
native  pertness  on  the  part  of  Lavvy,  did  not  mend  the 
matter.  Bella  really  stood  in  natural  need  of  a little 
help,  and  she  got  none. 

This,”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer,  presenting  a cheek  to  be 
kissed,  as  sympathetic  and  responsive  as  the  back  of 
the  bowl  of  a spoon,  'Gs  quite  an  honour!  You  will 
probably  find  your  sister  Lavvy  grown,  Bella.” 

^^Ma,”  Miss  Lavinia  interposed,”  there  can  be  no  ob- 
jection to  your  being  aggravating,  because  Bella  richly 
deserves  it ; but  I really  must  request  that  you  will  not 
drag  in  such  ridiculous  nonsense  as  my  having  grown 
when  I am  past  the  growing  age.” 

grew,  myself,”  Mrs.  Wilfer  sternly  proclaimed, 

after  I was  married.” 

Very  well,  Ma,”  returned  Lavvy,  then  I think  you 
had  much  better  have  left  it  alone.” 

The  lofty  glare  with  which  the  majestic  woman  re- 
ceived this  answer  might  have  embarrassed  a less  pert 
opponent,  but  it  had  no  effect  upon  Lavinia;  who,  leaving 
her  parent  to  the  enjoyment  of  any  amount  of  glaring 
that  she  might  deem  desirable  under  the  circum- 
stances, accosted  her  sister,  undismayed. 

suppose  you  won’t  consider  yourself  quite  dis- 
graced, Bella,  if  I give  you  a kiss  ? Well  ! And  how 
do  you  do,  Bella  ? And  how  are  your  Boffin’s  ? ” 

Peace!”  exclaimed  Mrs.  Wilfer.  ^^Hold!  I will  not 
suffer  this  tone  of  levity.” 

My  goodness  me!  How  are  your  Spoffins,  then?” 
said  Lavvy,  ^ ^ since  Ma  so  very  much  objects  to  your 
Boffins.” 

^impertinent  girl!  Minx!”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer,  with 
dread  severity. 

I don’t  care  whether  I am  a Minx,  or  a Sphinx,”  re- 
turned Lavinia,  coolly,  tossing  her  head;  ^it’s  exactly 
the  same  thing  to  me,  and  I’d  every  bit  as  soon  be  one 
as  the  other;  but  I know  this — I’ll  not  grow  after  I am 
married!” 

^ Wou  will  not  ? You  will  not  ? ” repeated  Mrs.  Wilfer, 
solemnly. 

^^No,  Ma,  I will  not.  Nothing  shall  induce  me.” 

Mrs.  Wilfer,  hawing  waved  her  gloves,  became  loftily 
pathetic.  But  it  was  to  be  expected;  ” thus  she  spake. 
‘^A  child  of  mine  deserts  me  for  the  proud  and  pros- 


332 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


perous,  and  another  child  of  mine  despises  me.  It  is 
quite  fitting.” 

Ma/’  Bella  struck  in,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin  are  pros- 
perous, no  doubt;  but  you  have  no  right  to  say  they  are 
proud.  You  must  know  very  well  that  they  are  not.” 

‘'In  short,  Ma,”  said  Lavvy,  bouncing  over  to  the 
enemy  without  a word  of  notice,  “you  must  know  very 
well — or  if  you  don’t,  more  shame  for  you! — that  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Boffin  are  just  absolute  perfection.” 

“Truly,”  returned  Mrs.  Wilfer,  courteously  receiving 
the  deserter,  “it  would  seem  that  we  are  required  to 
think  so.  And  this,  Lavinia,  is  my  reason  for  objecting 
to  a tone  of  levity.  Mrs.  Boffin  (of  whose  physiognomy 
I can  never  speak  with  the  composure  I would  desire  to 
preserve),  and  your  mother,  are  not  on  terms  of  intimacy. 
It  is  not  for  a moment  to  be  supposed  that  she  and  her 
husband  dare  to  presume  to  speak  of  this  family  as  the 
Wilfers.  I cannot  therefore  condescend  to  speak  of  them 
as  the  Boffins.  No;  for  such  a tone — call  it  familiarity, 
levity,  e(tuality,  or  what  you  will — would  imply  those 
social  interchanges  which  do  not  exist.  Do  I render  my- 
self intelligible  ? ” 

Without  taking  the  least  notice  of  this  inquiry,  albeit 
delivered  in  an  imposing  and  forensic  manner,  Lavinia 
reminded  her  sister,  “After  all,  you  know,  Bella,  you 
haven’t  told  us  how  your  What’s-his-names  are.” 

“ I don’t  want  to  speak  of  them  here,”  replied  Bella, 
suppressing  indignation,  and  tapping  her  foot  on  the 
floor.  “They  are  much  too  kind  and  too  good  to  be 
drawn  into  these  discussions.” 

“ Why  put  it  so  ? ” demanded  Mrs.  Wilfer  with  biting 
sarcasm.  “Why  adopt  a circuitous  form  of  speech  ? 
It  is  polite  and  obliging ; but  why  do  it  ? Why  not 
openly  say  that  they  are  much  too  kind  and  too  good  for 
us?  We  understand  the  allusion.  Why  disguise  the 
phrase  ? ” 

“Ma,”said  Bella,  with  one  beat  of  her  foot,  “you 
are  enough  to  drive  a saint  mad,  and  so  is  Lavvy.” 

“ Unfortunate  Lavvy,”  cried  Mrs.  Wilfer,  in  a tone  of 
commiseration.  “She  always  cpmes  in  for  it.  My 
poor  child  ! ” But  Lavvy  with  the  suddenness  of  her 
former  desertion,  now  bounced  over  to  the  other  enemy: 
very  sharply  remarking,  “Don’t  patronize  me,  Ma,  be- 
cause I can  take  care  of  myself.” 


AN  INNOCENT  ELOPEMENT  OCCURS.  333 


only  wonder/^  resumed  Mrs.  Wilfer,  directing  her 
observations  to  her  elder  daughter^  as  safer  on  the 
whole  than  her  utterly  unmanageable  younger,  ^^that 
you  find  time  and  inclination  to  tear  yourself  from  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Boffin,  and  come  to  see  us  at  all.  I only  won- 
der that  our  claims,  contending  against  the  superior 
claims  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin,  had  any  weight.  I feel 
I ought  to  be  thankful  for  gaining  so  much,  in  competi- 
tion with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin.'’  (The  good  lady  bitterly 
emphasized  the  first  letter  of  the  word  Boffin,  as  if  it 
represented  her  chief  objection  to  the  owners  of  that 
name,  and  as  if  she  could  have  borne  Boffin,  Moffin,  or 
Poffin  much  better. ) 

Ma,”  said  Bella  angrily,  ^^you  force  me  to  say  that 
I am  truly  sorry  I did  come  home,  and  that  I never  will 
come  home  again,  except  when  poor  dear  Pa  is  here. 
For,  Pa  is  too  magnanimous  to  feel  envy  and  spite  to- 
wards my  generous  friends,  and  Pa  is  delicate  enough 
and  gentle  enough  to  remember  the  sort  of  little  claim 
they  thought  I had  upon  them  and  the  unusually  trying 
position  in  which,  through  no  act  of  mine,  I had  been 
placed.  And  I always  did  love  poor  dear  Pa  better  than 
all  the  rest  of  you  put  together,  and  I always  do,  and  I 
always  shall.” 

Here  Bella,  deriving  no  comfort  from  her  charming 
bonnet  and  her  elegant  dress,  burst  into  tears. 

think,  R.  W.,”  cried  Mrs.  Wilfer,  lifting  up  her 
eyes  and  apostrophizing  the  air,  ^^that  if  you  were 
present,  it  would  be  a trial  to  your  feelings  to  hear 
your  wife  and  the  mother  of  your  family  depreciated 
in  your  name.  But  Fate  has  spared  you  this,  R.  W., 
whatever  it  may  have  thought  proper  to  inflict  upon 
her  ! ” 

Here  Mrs.  Wilfer  burst  into  tears. 

hate  the  Boffins!”  protested  Miss  Lavinia.  ‘‘1 
don’t  care  who  objects  to  their  being  called  the  Boffins. 
I WILL  call  ’em  the  Boffins.  The  Boffins,  the  Boffins, 
the  Boffins  ! And  I say  they  are  mischief -making 
Boffins,  and  I say  the  Boffins  have  set  Bella  against 
me,  and  I tell  the  Boffins  to  their  faces  : ” which  was 
not  strictly  the  fact,  but  the  young  lady  was  excited  : 
^^that  they  are  detestable  Boffins,  disreputable  Boffins, 
odious  Boffins,  beastly  Boffins.  There  ! ” 

Here  Miss  Lavinia  burst  into  tears. 


334 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


The  front  garden-gate  clanked,  and  the  Secretary 
was  seen  coming  at  a brisk  pace  up  the  steps.  • Leave 
Me  to  open  the  door  to  him/’  said  Mrs.  Wilfer,  rising 
with  stately  resignation  as  she  shook  her  head  and 
dried  her  eyes  ; we  have  at  present  no  stipendiary  girl 
to  do  so.  We  have  nothing  to  conceal.  If  he  sees 
these  traces  of  emotion  on  our  cheeks,  let  him  construe 
them  as  he  may.” 

With  those  words  she  stalked  out.  In  a few  moments 
she  stalked  in  again,  proclaiming  in  her  heraldic  man- 
ner, Mr.  Rokesmith  is  the  bearer  of  a packet  for  Miss 
Bella  Wilfer.” 

Mr.  Rokesmith  followed  close  upon  his  name,  and  of 
course  saw  what  was  amiss.  But  he  discreetly  affected 
to  see  nothing,  and  addressed  Miss  Bella. 

^^Mr.  Boffin  intended  to  have  placed  this  in  the  car- 
riage for  you  this  morning.  He  wished  you  to  have  it, 
as  a little  keepsake  he  had  prepared — it  is  only  a purse. 
Miss  Wilfer — but  as  he  was  disappointed  in  his  fancy, 
I volunteered  to  come  after  you  with  it.” 

Bella  took  it  in  her  hand,  and  thanked  him. 

^^We  have  been  quarrelling  here  a little,  Mr.  Roke- 
smith, but  not  more  than  we  used  ; you  know  our  agree- 
able ways  among  • ourselves.  You  find  me  just  going. 
Good-bye,  mamma.  Good-bye,  Lavvy  ! ” And  with  a 
kiss  for  each,  Miss  Bella  turned  to  the  door.  The  Sec^ 
retary  would  have  attended  her,  but  Mrs.  Wilfer 
advancing  and  saying  with  dignity,  Pardon  me  ! 
Permit  me  to  assert  my  natural  right  to  escort  my  child 
to  the  equipage  which  is  in  waiting  for  her,”  he  begged 
pardon  and  gave  place.  It  was  a very  magnificent 
spectacle  indeed  to  see  Mrs.  Wilfer  throw  open  the 
house-door,  and  loudly  demand  with  extended  gloves, 
^^The  male  domestic  of  Mrs.  Boffin!”  To  whom  pre- 
senting himself,  she  delivered  the  brief  but  majestic 
charge,  Miss  Wilfer.  Coming  out ! ” and  so  delivered 
her  over,  like  a female  Lieutenant  of  the  Tower  relin- 
quishing a State  Prisoner.  The  effect  of  this  cere- 
monial was  for  some  quarter  of  an  hour  afterwards 
perfectly  paralysing  on  the  neighbours,  and  was  much 
enhanced  by  the  worthy  lady  airing  herself  for  that 
term  in  a kind  of  splendidly  serene  trance  on  the  top 
step. 

When  Bella  was  seated  in  the  carriage,  she  opened 


AN  INNOCENT  ELOPEMENT  OCCURS.  335 


the  little  packet  in  her  hand.  It  contained  a pretty 
purse,  and  the  purse  contained  a bank  note  for  fifty 
pounds.  This  shall  be  a joyful  surprise  for  poor  dear 
Pa/’  said  Bella,  ^'and  Pll  take  it  myself  into  the  City!” 

As  she  was  uniformed  respecting  the  exact  locality  of 
the  place  of  business  of  Chicksey,  Veneering,  and 
Stobbles,  but  knew  it  to  be  near  Mincing  Lane,  she  di- 
rected herself  to  be  driven  to  the  corner  of  that  dark- 
some spot.  Thence  she  despatched  the  male  domestic 
of  Mr.  Boffin,”  in  search  of  the  counting-house  of  Chick- 
sey, Veneering,  and  Stobbles,  with  a message  importing 
that  if  R.  Wilfer  could  come  out,  there  was  a lady  wait- 
ing who  would  be  glad  to  speak  with  him.  The  delivery 
of  these  mysterious  words  from  the  mouth  of  a footman 
caused  so  great  an  excitement  in  the  counting-house, 
that  a youthful  scout  was  instantly  appointed  to  follow 
Rumty,  observe  the  lady,  and  come  in  with  his  report. 
Nor  was  the  agitation  by  any  means  diminished,  when 
the  scout  rushed  back  with  the  intelligence  that  the 
lady  was  a slap-up  gal  in  a bang-up  chariot.” 

Rumty  himself,  with  his  pen  behind  his  ear  under  his 
rusty  hat,  arrived  at  the  carriage-door  in  a breathless 
condition,  and  had  been  fairly  lugged  into  the  vehicle 
by  his  cravat  and  embraced  almost  linto  choking,  be- 
fore he  recognized  his  daughter.  My  dear  child  !”  he 
then  panted,  incoherently.  Good  gracious  me  ! What 
a lovely  woman  you  are  I I thought  you  had  been  un- 
kind and  forgotten  your  mother  and  sister.” 

I have  just  been  to  see  them.  Pa,  dear.” 

Oh  I and  how — how  did  you  find  your  mother?” 
asked  R.  W.,  dubiously. 

^Wery  disagreeable.  Pa,  and  so  was  Lavvy.” 

They  are  sometimes  a little  liable  to  it,”  observed 
the  patient  cherub;  ^^but  I hope  you  made  allowances, 
Bella,  my  dear  ? ” 

^^No.  I was  disagreeable  too.  Pa;  we  were  all  of  us 
disagreeable  together.  But  I want  you  to  come  and 
dine  with  me  sonfewhere.  Pa.” 

^^Why,  my  dear,  I have  already  partaken  of  a — if 
one  might  mention  such  an  article  in  this  superb  chariot 
— of  a — Saveloy,”  replied  R.  Wilfer,  modestly  dropping 
his  voice  on  the  word,  as  he  eyed  the  canary-coloured 
fittings. 

Oh  I That’s  nothing.  Pa  ! ” 


B3G  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

Truly,  it  ain’t  as  much  as  one  could  sometimes  wish 
it  to  be,  my  dear,”  he  admitted,  drawing  his  hand  across 
his  mouth.  Still,  when  circumstances  over  which  you 
have  no  control,  interpose  obstacles  between  yourself 
and  Small  Germans,  you  can’t  do  better  then  bring  a 
contented  mind  to  bear  on  ” — again  dropping  his  voice 
in  deference  to  the  chariot — Saveloys  ! ” 

^^You  poor  good  Pa!  Pa,  do,  I beg  and  pray,  yet 
leave  for  the  rest  of  the  day,  and  come  and  pass  it  with 
me  ! ” 

Well,  my  dear.  I’ll  cut  back  and  ask  for  leave.” 

'' But  before  you  cut  back,”  said  Bella,  who  had  al- 
ready taken  him  by  the  chin,  pulled  his  hat  off,  and 
begun  to  stick  up  his  hair  in  her  old  way,  do  say  that 
you  are  sure  I am  giddy  and  inconsiderate,  but  have 
never  really  slighted  you.  Pa.” 

My  dear,  I say  it  with  all  my  heart.  And  might  I 
likewise  observe,”  her  father  delicately  hinted,  with  a 
glance  out  at  window,  'Ghat  perhaps  it  might  be  cal- 
culated to  attract  attention,  having  one’s  hair  publicly 
done  by  a lovely  woman  in  an  elegant  turn-out  in 
Fenchurch  Street  ? ” 

Bella  laughed  and  put  on  his  hat  again.  But  when 
his  boyish  figure  bobbed  away,  its  shabbiness  and 
cheerful  patience  smote  the  tears  out  of  her  eyes.  'G 
hate  that  Secretary  for  thinking  it  of  me,”  she  said  to 
herself,  "and  yet  it  seems  half  true  I” 

Back  came  her  father,  more  like  a boy  than  ever,  in 
his  release  from  school.  "All  right,  my  dear.  Leave 
given  at  once.  Really  very  handsomely  done  1 ” 

"Now,  where  can  we  find  some  quiet  place.  Pa,  in 
which  I can  wait  for  you  while  you  go  on  an  errand  for 
me,  if  I send  the  carriage  away?” 

It  demanded  cogitation.  "You  see,  my  dear,”  he  ex- 
plained, " you  really  have  become  such  a very  lovely 
woman,  that  it  ought  to  be  a very  quiet  place.”  At 
length  he  suggested,  "Near  the  garden  up  by  the  Trin- 
ity House,  on  Tower  Hill.”  So,  they  were  driven  theie, 
and  Bella  dismissed  the  chariot;  sending  a pencilled 
note  by  it  to  Mrs.  Boffin,  that  she  was  with  her  father. 

"Now,  Pa,  attend  to  what  I am  going  to  say,  and 
promise  and  vow  to  be  obedient.” 

" I promise  and  vow,  my  dear.” 

"You  ask  no  questions.  You  take  this  purse;  you  go 


AN  INNOCENT  ELOPEMENT  OCCURS.  337 


to  the  nearest  place  where  they  keep  everything  of  the 
very  very  best,  ready  made;  you  buy  and  put  on,  the 
most  beautiful  suit  of  clothes,  the  most  beautiful  hat, 
and  the  most  beautiful  pair  of  bright  boots  (patent 
leather,  Pa,  mind  !)  that  are  to  be  got  for  money;  and 
you  come  back  to  me.” 

But,  my  dear  Bella .” 

Take  care,  Pa  !”  pointing  her  fore-finger  at  him,  mer- 
rily. You  have  promised  and  vowed.  IPs  perjury, 
you  know.” 

There  was  water  in  the  foolish  little  fellow’s  eyes,  but 
she  kissed  them  dry  (though  her  own  were  wet),  and  he 
bobbed  away  again.  After  half  an  hour,  he  came  back, 
so  brilliantly  transformed,  that  Bella  was  obliged  to 
walk  round  him  in  ecstatic  admiration  twenty  times, 
before  she  could  draw  her  arm  through  his,  and  delight- 
edly squeeze  it. 

Now,  Pa,”  said  Bella,  hugging  him.  close,  ‘^take  this 
lovely  woman  out  to  dinner.” 

Where  shall  we  go,  my  dear?” 

Greenwich! ” said  Bella,  valiantly.  ^^And  be  sure 
you  treat  this  lovely  woman  with  everything  of  the 
best.” 

While  they  were  goin^  along  to  take  a boat,  ''  Don't 
you  wish,  my  dear,”  said  R.  W.,  timidly,  ^^that  your 
mother  was  here?” 

‘^No,  I don’t.  Pa,  for  I like  to  have  you  all  to  myself 
to-day.  I was  always  your  little  favourite  at  home, 
and  you  were  always  mine.  We  have  run  away  to- 
gether often,  before  now;  haven’t  we.  Pa?  ” 

Ah,  to  be  sure  we  have!  Many  a Sunday  when  your 
mother  was — was  a little  liable  to  it,”  repeating  his  for- 
mer delicate  expression  after  pausing  to  cough. 

‘Wes,  and  I am  afraid  I was  seldom  or  never  as  good 
as  I ought  to  have  been.  Pa.  I made  you  carry  me, 
over  and  over  again,  when  you  should  have  made  me 
walk;  and  T often  drove  you  in  harness,  when  you 
would  much  rather  have  sat  down  and  read  your  news- 
paper: didn’t  I ?” 

“ Sometimes,  sometimes.  But  Lor’,  what  a child  you 
were!  What  a companion  you  were!  ” 

“ Companion?  That’s  just  what  I want  to  be  to-day. 
Pa.” 

“You  are  safe  to  succeed,  my  love.  Your  brothers 

VOL.  I.  22 


338 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


and  sisters  have  all  in  their  turns  been  companions  to 
me,  to  a certain  extent,  but  only  to  a certain  extent. 
Your  mother  has,  throughout  life,  been  a companion 
that  any  man  might — might  look  up  to — and — and  com- 
mit the  sayings  of,  to  memory — and — form  himself 
upon — if  he 

If  he  liked  the  model?”  suggested  Bella. 

We-ell,  ye-es,”  he  returned,  thinking  about  it,  not 
quite  satisfied  with  the  phrase:  ''or  perhaps  I might 
say,  if  it  was  in  him.  Supposing,  for  instance,  that  a 
man  wanted  to  be  always  marching,  he  would  find  your 
mother  an  inestimable  companion.  But  if  he  had  any 
taste  for  walking,  or  should  wish  at  any  time  to  break 
into  a trot,  he  might  sometimes  find  it  a little  difficult  to 
keep  step  with  your  mother.  Or  take  it  this  way, 
Bella,”  he  added,  after  a moment’s  reflection;  " Suppos- 
ing that  a man  had  to  go  through  life,  we  won’t  say 
with  a companion,  but  we’ll  say  to  a tune.  Very  good. 
Supposing  that  the  tune  allotted  to  him  was  the  Dead 
March  in  Saul.  Well.  It  would  be  a very  suitable  tune 
for  particular  occasions — none  better — but  it  would  be 
difficult  to  keep  time  within  the  ordinary  run  of  domes- 
tic transactions.  For  instance,  if  he  took  his  supper 
after  a hard  day,  to  the  Dead  March  in  Saul,  his  food 
might  be  likely  to  sit  heavy  on  him.  Or,  if  he  was  at 
any  time  inclined  to  relieve  his  mind  by  singing  a comic 
song  or  dancing  a hornpipe,  and  was  obliged  to  do  it  to 
the  Dead  March  in  Saul,  he  might  find  himself  put  out 
in  the  execution  of  his  lively  intentions.” 

"Poor  Pa!”  thought  Bella,  as  she  hung  upon  his 
arm. 

" Now,  what  I will  say  for  you,  my  dear,”  the  cherub 
pursued  mildly,  and  without  a notion  of  complaining, 
" is,  that  you  are  so  adaptable.  So  adaptable.” 

" Indeed  I am  afraid  I have  shown  a wretched  temper. 
Pa.  I am  afraid  I have  been  very  complaining,  and 
very  capricious.  I seldom  or  never  thought  of  it  before. 
But  when  I sat  in  the  carriage  just  now  and  saw  you 
coming  along  the  pavement,  I reproached  myself.” 

" Not  at  all,  my  dear.  Don’t  speak  of  such  a thing.” 

A happy  and  a chatty  man  was  Pa  in  his  new  clothes 
that  day.  Take  it  for  all  in  all,  it  was  perhaps  the  hap- 
piest day  he  had  ever  known  in  his  life ; not  even  ex- 
cepting that  on  which  his  lieroic  partner  had  approached 


AN  INNOCENT  ELOPEMENT  OCCURS.  339 


the  nuptial  altar  to  the  tune  of  the  Dead  March  in 
Saul. 

The  little  expedition  down  the  river  was  delightful, 
and  the  little  room  overlooking  the  river  into  which 
they  were  shown  for  dinner  was  delightful.  Everything 
was  delightful.  The  park  was  delightful,  the  punch 
was  delightful,  the  dishes  of  fish  were  delightful,  the 
wine  was  delightful.  • Bella  was  more  delightful  than 
any  other  item  in  the  festival ; drawing  Pa  out  in  the 
gayest  manner  ; making  a point  of  always  mentioning 
herself  as  the  lovely  woman  ; stimulating  Pa  to  order 
things,  by  declaring  that  the  lovely  woman  insisted  on 
being  treated  with  them  ; and  in  short  causing  Pa  to  be 
quite  enraptured  with  the  consideration  that  he  was 
the  Pa  of  such  a char^iing  daughter. 

And  then,  as  they  sat  looking  at  the  ships  and  steam- 
boats making  their  way  to  the  sea  with  the  tide  that 
was  running  down,  the  lovely  woman  imagined  all  sorts 
of  voyages  for  herself  and  Pa.  Now,  Pa,  in  the  char- 
acter of  owner  of  a lumbering  square-sailed  collier,  was 
tacking  away  to  Newcastle,  to  fetch  black  diamonds  to 
make  his  fortune  with  ; now  Pa  was  going  to  China  in 
that  handsome  three-masted  ship,  to  bring  home  opium, 
with  which  he  would  forever  cut  out  Chicksey,  Veneer- 
ing, and  Stobbles,  and  to  bring  home  silks  and  shawls 
without  end  for  the  decoration  of  his  charming  daughter. 
Now,  John  Harmon’s  disastrous  fate  was  all  a dream, 
and  he  had  come  home  and  found  the  lovely  woman  just 
the  article  for  him,  and  the  lovely  woman  had  found 
him  just  the  article  for  her,  and  they  were  going  away 
on  a trip,  in  their  gallant  bark,  to  look  after  their  vines, 
with  streamers  flying  at  all  points,  band  playing 
on  deck,  and  Pa  established  in  the  great  cabin.  Now, 
John  Harmon  was  consigned  to  his  grave  again,  and  a 
merchant  of  immense  wealth  (name  unknown)  had 
courted  and  married  the  lovely  woman,  and  he  was  so 
enormously  rich  that  everything  you  saw  upon  the  river 
sailing  or  steaming  belonged  to  him,  and  he  kept  a per- 
fect fleet  of  yachts  for  pleasure,  and  that  little  impudent 
yacht  which  you  saw  over  there,  with  the  great  white 
sail,  was  called  The  Bella,  in  honour  of  his  wife,  and 
she  held  her  state  aboard  when  it  pleased  her,  like  a 
modern  Cleopatra.  Anon,  there  would  embark  in  that 
troop-ship  when  she  got  to  Gravesend,  a mighty  general. 


340 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEJ4D. 


of  large  property  (name  also  unknown),  who  wouldn’t 
hear  of  going  to  victory  without  his  wife,  and  whose 
wife  was  the  lovely  woman,  and  she  was  destined  to  be- 
come the  idol  of  all  the  red  coats  and  blue  jackets  alow 
and  aloft.  And  then  again  : you  saw  that  ship  being 
towed  out  by  a steam-tug  ? Well ! where  did  you  sup- 
pose she  was  going  to  ? She  was  going  among  the  coral 
reefs  and  cocoa-nuts  and  all  that*sort  of  thing,  and  she 
was  chartered  for  a fortunate  individual  of  the  name  of 
Pa  (himself  on  board,  and  much  respected  by  all  hands), 
and  she  was  going,  for  his  sole  profit  and  advantage, 
to  fetch  a cargo  of  sweet-smelling  woods,  the  most 
beautiful  that  ever  were  seen,  and  the  most  profitable 
that  never  were  heard  of,  and  her  cargo  would  be  a 
great  fortune,  as  indeed  it  ought  to  be  : the  lovely 
woman  who  had  purchased  her  and  fitted  her  expressly 
for  this  voyage,  being  married  to  an  Indian  Prince, 
who  was  a Something-or-Other,  and  who  wore  Cash- 
mere  shawls  all  over  himself,  and  diamonds  and  em- 
eralds blazing  in  his  turban,  and  was  beautifully  coffee- 
coloured  and  excessively  devoted,  though  a little  too 
jealous.  Thus  Bella  ran  on  merrily,  in  a manner  per- 
fectly enchanting  to  Pa,  who  was  as  willing  to  put  his 
head  into  the  Sultan’s  tub  of  water  as  the  beggar-boys 
below  the  window  were  to  put  their  heads  in  the  mud. 

‘‘1  suppose,  my  dear,”  said  Pa  after  dinner,  ^^  we  may 
come  to  the  conclusion  at  home,  that  we  have  lost  you 
for  good  ? ” 

Bella  shook  her  head.  Didn’t  know.  Couldn’t  say.  , 
All  she  was  able  to  report  was,  that  she  was  most  hand-  | 
somely  supplied  with  everything  she  could  possibly 
want,  and  that  whenever  she  hinted  at  leaving  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Boffin,  they  wouldn’t  hear  of  it. 

And  now.  Pa,”  pursued  Bella,  ^^Pll  make  a confes- 
sion to  you.  I am  the  most  mercenary  little  wretch 
that  ever  lived  in  the  world.” 

‘‘1  should  hardly  have  thought  it  of  you,  my  dear,” 
returned  her  father,  first  glancing  at  himself,  and  then 
at  the  dessert. 

I understand  what  you  mean.  Pa,  but  it’s  not  that. 
It’s  not  that  I care  for  money  to  keep  as  money,  but  I 
do  care  so  much  for  what  it  will  buy ! ” 

Really  I think  most  of  us  do,”  returned  R.  W. 

'^But  not  to  the  dreadful  extent  that  I do,  Pa.  O-o!’’ 


AN  INNOCENT  ELOPEMENT  OCCURS.  341 


cried  Bella,  screwing  the  exclamation  out  of  herself 
with  a twist  of  her  dimpled  chin.  I am  so  mer- 
cenary ! ” 

AVith  a wistful  glance  R.AV.  said,  in  default  of  having 
anything  better  to  say:  About  when  did  you  begin  to 
feel  it  coming  on,  my  dear?” 

''  That’s  it.  Pa.  That’s  the  terrible  part  of  it.  AVhen 
I was  at  home,  and  only  knew  what  it  was  to  be  poor,  I 
grumbled,  but  didn't  so  much  mind.  AVhen  I was  at 
home  expecting  to  be  rich,  I thought  vaguely  of  all  the 
great  things  I would  do.  But  when  I had  been  disap- 
pointed of  my  splendid  fortune,  and  came  to  see  it  from 
day  to  day  in  other  hands,  and  to  have  before  my  eyes 
what  it  could  really  do,  then  I became  the  mercenary 
little  wretch  I am.” 

IPs  your  fancy,  my  dear.” 

I can  assure  you  it’s  nothing  of  the  sort,  Pa!”  said 
Bella,  nodding  at  him,  with  her  very  pretty  eyebrows 
raised  as  high  as  they  would  go,  and  looking  comically 
frightened.  It’s  a fact.  I am  always  avariciously 
scheming.” 

Lor!  But  how?  ” • 

I’ll  tell  you,  Pa.  I don’t  mind  telling  you,  because 
we  have  always  been  favourites  of  each  other’s,  and 
because  you  are  not  like  a Pa,  but  more  like  a sort  of  a 
younger  brother  with  a dear  venerable  chubbiness  on 
him.  And  besides,  ” added  Bella,  laughing  as  she 
pointed  a rallying  finger  at  his  face,  '^because  I have 
got  you  in  my  power.  This  is  a secret  expedition.  If 
ever  you  tell  of  me.  I’ll  tell  of  you.  I’ll  tell  Ma  that  you 
dined  at  Greenwich.” 

^^AVell,  seriously,  my  dear,”  observed  R.  A¥. ; with 
some  trepidation  of  manner,  ‘Gt  might  be  as  well  not 
to  mention  it.” 

Aha  ! ” laughed  Bella.  “ I knew  you  wouldn’t  like 
it,  sir  ! So  you  keep  my  confidence,  and  I’ll  keep  yours. 
But  betray  the  lovely  woman,  and  you  shall  find  her  a 
serpent.  Now,  you  may  give  me  a kiss.  Pa,  and  I 
should  like  to  give  your  hair  a turn,  because  it  has  been 
dreadfully  neglected  in  my  absence.” 

R.  AV.  submitted  his  head  to  the  oj)erator,  and  the 
operator  went  on  talking  ; at  the  same  time  putting 
separate  locks  of  his  hair  through  a curious  process  of 
being  smartly  rolled  over  her  two  revolving  forefingers, 


342 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


which  were  then  suddenly  pulled  out  of  it  in  opposite 
lateral  directions.  On  each  of  these  occasions  the 
patient  winced  and  winked. 

have  made  up  my  mind  that  I must  have  money, 
Pa.  I feel  that  I caiTt  beg  it,  borrow  it,  or  steal  it ; and 
so  I have  resolved  that  I must  marry  it.” 

R.  W.  cast  up  his  eyes  towards  her,  as  well  as  he 
could  under  the  operating  circumstances,  and  said  in  a 
tone  of  remonstrance,  ‘‘^My  de-a-r  Bella  !” 

Have  resolved,  I say,  Pa,  that  to  get  money  I must 
marry  money.  In  consequence  of  which,  I am  always 
looking  out  for  money  to  captivate.” 

My  de-a-r  Bella  ! ” 

Yes,  Pa,  that  is  the  state  of  the  case.  If  ever  there 
was  a mercenary  plotter  whose  thoughts  and  designs 
were  always  in  her  mean  occupation,  I am  the  amiable 
creature.  But  I don't  care.  I hate  and  detest  being 
poor,  and  I won’t  be  poor  if  I can  marry  money.  Now, 
you  are  deliciously  flufly.  Pa,  and  in  a state  to  astonish 
the  waiter  and  pay  the  bill.” 

But,  my  dear  Bella,  this  is  quite  alarming  at  your 
age.” 

''I  told  you  so,  Pa,  but  you  wouldn’t  believe  it,”  re- 
turned Bella,  with  a pleasant  childish  gravity.  Isn’t 
it  shocking  ? ” 

‘Mt  would  be  quite  so,  if  you  fully  knew  what  you 
said,  my  dear,  or  meant  it.” 

‘‘Well,  Pa,  I can  only  tell  you  that  I mean  nothing 
else.  Talk  to  me  of  love  ! ” said  Bella,  contemptuously  : 
though  her  face  and  figure  certainly  rendered  the  sub- 
ject no  incongruous  one.  “Talk  to  me  of  fire  dragons  ! 
But  talk  to  me  of  poverty  and  wealth,  and  there  indeed 
we  touch  upon  realities.” 

“ My  De-ar,  this  is  becoming  ‘Awful ” her  father 

was  emphatically  beginning  : when  she  stopped  him. 

“ Pa,  tell  me.  Did  you  marry  money  ? ” 

“You  know  I didn’t,  my  dear.” 

Bella  hummed  the  Dead  March  in  Saul,  and  said,  After 
all  it  signified  very  little  ! But  seeing  him  look  grave 
and  downcast,  she  took  him  round  the  neck  and  kissed 
him  back  to  cheerfulness  again. 

“ I didn’t  mean  that  last  touch,  Pa ; it  was  only  said 
in  joke.  Now  mind  ! You  are  not  to  tell  of  me,  and 
I’ll  not  tell  of  you.  And  more  than  that ; I promise  to 


AN  INNOCENT  ELOPEMENT  OCCURS.  343 


li^ve  no  secrets  from  you,  Pa,  and  you  may  make  cer- 
tain that  whatever  mercenary  things  go  on,  I shall 
always  tell  you  all  about  them  in  strict  confidence.’’ 

Fain  to  be  satisfied  with  this  concession  from  the 
lovely  woman,  R.  W.  rang  the  bell,  and  paid  the  bill. 

Now,  all  the  rest  of  this.  Pa,”  said  Bella,  rolling  up 
the  purse  when  they  were  alone  again,  hammering  it 
small  with  her  little  fist  on  the  table,  and  cramming  it 
into  one  of  the  pockets  of  his  new  waistcoat,/^  is  for  you, 
to  buy  presents  with  for  them  at  home,  and  to  pay  bills 
with,  and  to  divide  as  you  like,  and  spend  exactly  as 
you  think  proper.  Last  of  all,  take  notice.  Pa,  that  it’s 
not  the  fruit  of  any  avaricious  scheme.  Perhaps,  if  it 
was,  your  little  mercenary  wretch  of  a daughter  wouldn’t 
make  so  free  with  it ! ” 

After  which  she  tugged  at  his  coat  with  both  hands, 
and  pulled  him  all  askew  in  buttoning  that  garment 
over  the  precious  waistcoat  pocket,  and  then  tied  her 
dimples  into  her  bonnet-strings  in  a very  knowing  way, 
and  took  him  back  to  London.  Arrived  at  Mr.  Boffin’s 
door,  she  set  him  with  his  back  against  it,  tenderly  took 
him  by  the  ears  as  convenient  handles  for  her  purpose, 
and  kissed  him  until  he  knocked  muffled  double  knocks 
at  the  door  with  the  back  of  his  head.  That  done,  she 
once  more  reminded  him  of  their  compact  and  gaily 
parted  from  him. 

Not  so  gaily,  however,  but  that  tears  filled  her  eyes  as 
he  went  away  down  the  dark  street.  Not  so  gaily,  but 
that  she  several  times  said,  ^"^Ah,  poor  little  Pa!  Ah, 
poor  dear  struggling  shabby  little  Pa  ! ” before  she  took 
heart  to  knock  at  the*  door.  Not  so  gaily,  but  that  the 
brilliant  furniture  seemed  to  stare  her  out  of  counte- 
nance, as  if  it  insisted  on  being  compared  with  the  dingy 
furniture  at  home.  Not  so  gaily,  but  that  she  fell  into 
very  low  spirits  sitting  late  in  her  own  room,  and  very 
heartily  wept,  as  she  wished,  now  that  the  deceased  old 
John  Harmon  had  never  made  a will  about  her,  now 
that  the  deceased  young  John  Harmon  had  lived  to 
marry  her.  Contradictory  things  to  wish,”  said  Bella, 
^‘but  my  life  and  fortunes  are  so  contradictory  alto- 
gether that  what  can  I expect  myself  to  be  ? ” 


344 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


IN  WHICH  THE  ORPHAN  MAKES  HIS  WILL. 


The  Secretary,  working  in  the  Dismal  Swamp 
betimes  next  morning,  was  informed  that  a youth 
waited  in  the  hall  who  gave  the  name  of  Sloppy.  The 
footman  who  communicated  this  intelligence  made  a 
decent  pause  before  uttering  the  name,  to  express  that 
it  was  forced  on  his  reluctance  by  the  youth  in  question, 
and  that  if  the  youth  had  had  the  good  sense  and  good 
taste  to  inherit  some  other  name,  it  would  have  spared 
the  feelings  of  him,  the  bearer. 

Mr.  Boffin  will  be  very  well  pleased,^’  said  the 
Secretary  in  a perfectly  composed  way.  Show  him  in.” 

Mr.  Sloppy,  being  introduced,  remained  close  to  the 
door : revealing  in  various  parts  of  his  form  many 
surprising,  confounding,  and  incomprehensible  buttons. 

I am  glad  to  see  you,”  said  John  Rokesmith,  in  a 
cheerful  tone  of  welcome.  I have  been  expecting  you.” 

Slo]3py  explained  that  he  had  meant  to  come  before, 
but  that  the  Orphan  (of  whom  he  made  mention  as  Our 
Johnny)  had  been  ailing,  and  he  had  waited  to  report 
him  well. 

Then  he  is  well  now  ?”  said  the  Secretary. 

'^No  he  ain’t,”  said  Sloppy. 

Mr.  Sloppy  having  shaken  his  head  to  a considerable 
extent,  proceeded  to  remark  that  he  thought  Johnny 
''must  have  took  ’em  from  the  Minders.”  Being  asked 
what  he  meant,  he  answered,  them  that  come  out  upon 
him  and  partickler  his  chest.  Being  requested  to  explain 
himself,  he  stated  that  there  was  some  of  ’em,  wot  you 
couldn’t  kiver  with  a sixpence.  Pressed  to  fall  back 
upon  a nominative  case,  he  opined  that  they  wos  about 
as  red  as  ever  red  could  be.  " But  as  long  as  they 
strikes  out’ards,  sir,”  continued  Sloppy,  "they  ain’t  so 
much.  It’s  their  striking  in’ards  that’s  to  be  kep  off.” 

John  Rokesmith  hoped  the  child  had  had  medical 
attendance  ? Oh  yes,  said  Sloppy,  he  had  been  took  to 
the  doctor’s  shop  once.  And  what  did  the  doctor  call 
it  ? Rokesmith  asked  him.  After  some  perplexed  re- 
flection, Sloppy  answered,  brightening,  "He  called  it 
something  as  wos  wery  long  for  spots.”  RokesmJth 


THE  ORPHAN  MAKES  HIS  WILL. 


345 


suggested  measles.  said  Sloppy,  with  confi- 

dence, ever  so  much  longer  than  them,  sir  ! ’’  (Mr. 
Sloppy  was  elevated  by  this  fact,  and  seemed  to  con- 
sider that  it  reflected  credit  on  the  poor  little  patient.) 

Mrs.  Boffin  will  be  sorry  to  hear  this,”  said  Roke- 
smith. 

Mrs.  Higden  said  so,  sir,  when  she  kept  it  from 
her,  hoping  as  Our  Johnny  would  work  round.” 

But  I hope  he  will  ?”  said  Rokesmith,  with  a quick 
turn  upon  the  messenger. 

hope  so,”  answered  Sloppy.  ^Ht  all  depends  on 
their  striking  iiTards.”  He  then  went  on  to  say  that 
whether  Johnny  had  ^^took  ’em”  from  the  Minders,  or 
whether  the  Minders  had  took ’em”  from  Johnny,  the 
Minders  had  been  sent  home  and  had  ^^got  ’em.” 
Furthermore,  that  Mrs.  Higden’s  days  and  nights  being 
devoted  to  Our  Johnny,  who  was  never  out  of  her  lap, 
the  whole  of  the  mangling  arrangements  had  devolved 
upon  himself,  and  he  had  had  rayther  a tight  time.” 
The  ungainly  piece  of  honesty  beamed  and  blushed  as 
he  said  it,  quite  enraptured  with  the  remembrance  of 
having  been  serviceable. 

Last  night,”  said  Sloppy,  when  I was  a-turning  at 
the  wheel  pretty  late,  the  mangle  seemed  to  go  like  Our 
Johnny’s  breathing.  It  begun  beautiful,  then  as  it 
went  out  it  shook  a little  and  got  unsteady,  then  as  it  took 
the  turn  to  come  home  it  had  a rattle-like  and  lumbered 
a bit,  then  it  come  smooth,  and  so  it  went  on  till  I 
scarce  know’d  which  was  mangle  and  which  was  Our 
Johnny.  Nor  Our  Johnny,  he  scarce  know’d  either, 
for  sometimes  when  the  mangle  lumbers  he  says,  ^ Me 
choking.  Granny!’  and  Mrs.  Higden  holds  him  up  in 
her  lap  and  says  to  me  ^ Bide  a bit.  Sloppy,’  and  we  all 
stops  together.  And  when  our  Johnny  gets  his  breath- 
ing again,  I turns  again,  and  we  all  goes  on  together.” 

Sloppy  had  gradually  expanded  with  his  description 
into  a stare  and  a vacant  grin.  He  now  contracted, 
being  silent,  into  a half-repressed  gush  of  tears,  and, 
under  pretence  of  being  heated,  drew  the  under  part  of 
his  sleeve  across  his  eyes  with  a • singularly  awkward, 
laborious,  and  roundabout  smear. 

This  is  unfortunate,”  said  Rokesmith.  I must  go 
and  break  it  to  Mrs.  Boffin.  Stay  you  here.  Sloppy.” 

Sloppy  stayed  there,  staring  at  the  pattern  of  the 


346 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


paper  on  the  wall,  until  the  Secretary  and  Mrs.  Boffin 
came  back  together.  And  with  Mrs.  Boffin  was  a young 
lady  (Miss  Bella  Wilfer  by  name)  who  was  better  worth 
staring  at, -it  occurred  to  Sloppy,  than  the  best  of  wall- 
papering. 

Ah,  my  poor  dear  pretty  little  John  Harmon!’’  ex- 
claimed Mrs.  Boffin. 

Yes,  mum,”  said  the  sympathetic  Sloppy. 

''You  don’t  think  he  is  in  a very,  very  bad  way,  do 
you?”  asked  the  pleasant  creature  with  her  wholesome 
cordiality. 

Put  upon  his  good  faith,  and  finding  it  in  collision 
with  his  inclinations.  Sloppy  threw  back  his  head  and 
uttered  a mellifluous  howl,  rounded  off  with  a sniff*. 

"So  bad  as  that!”  cried  Mrs.  Boffin.  "And  Betty 
Higden  not  to  tell  me  of  it  sooner!” 

"I  think  she  might  have  been  mistrustful,  mum,” 
answered  Sloppy,  hesitating. 

"Of  what,  for  Heaven’s  sake?” 

" I think  she  might  have  been  mistrustful  mum,”  re- 
turned Sloppy  with  submission,  " of  standing  in  Our 
Johnny’s  light.  There’s  so  much  trouble  in  illness,  and 
so  much  expense,  and  she’s  seen  such  a lot  of  its  being 
objected  to.” 

"But  she  never  can  have  thought,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin, 
"that  I would  grudge  the  dear  child  anything?” 

"No,  mum,  but  she  might  have  thought  (as  a habit- 
like) of  its  standing  in  Johnny’s  light,  and  might  have 
tried  to  bring  him  through  it  unbeknownst.” 

Sloppy  knew  his  ground  well.  To  conceal  herself  in 
sickness,  like  a lower  animal;  to  creep  out  of  sight  and 
coil  herself  away  and  die;  had  become  this  woman’s  in- 
stinct. To  catch  up  in  her  arms  the  sick  child  who  was 
dear  to  her,  and  hide  it  as  if  it  were  a criminal,  and 
keep  off  all  ministration  but  such  as  her  own  ignorant 
tenderness  and  patience  could  supply,  had  become  this 
woman’s  idea  of  maternal  love,  fidelity,  and  duty.  The 
shameful  accounts  we  read,  every  week  in  the  Christian 
year,  my  lords  and  gentlemen  and  honourable  boards, 
the  infamous  records  of  small  official  inhumanity,  do 
not  pass  by  the  people  as  they  pass  by  us.  And  hence 
these  irrational,  blind,  and  obstinate  prejudices,  so  as- 
tonishing to  our  magnificence,  and  having  no  more 
reason  in  them — God  save  the  Queen  and  Con-found 


THE  ORPHAN  MAKES  HIS  WILL.  347 

their  politics — no,  than  smoke  has  in  coining  from 
fire! 

^Ht’s  not  a right  place  for  the  poor  child  to  stay  in,” 
said  Mrs.  Boffin.  ''Tell  us,  dear  Mr.  Rokesmith,  what 
to  do  for  the  best.” 

He  had  already  thought  what  to  do,  and  the  consul- 
tation was  very  short.  He  could  pave  the  way,  he  said, 
in  half  an  hour,  and  then  they  would  go  down  to  Brent- 
ford. " Pray  take  me,”  said  Bella.  Therefore  a carriage 
was  ordered,  of  capacity  to  take  them  all,  and  in  the 
meantime  Sloppj^  was  regaled,  feasting  alone  in  the 
Secretary’s  room,  with  a complete  realization  of  that 
fairy  vision — meat,  beer,  vegetables,  and  pudding.  In 
consequence  of  which  his  buttons  becarne  more  impor- 
tunate of  public  notice  than  before,  with  the  exception 
of  two  or  three  about  the  region  of  the  waistband,  which 
modestly  withdrew  into  a creasy  retirement. 

Pun-ctual  to  the  time,  appeared  the  carriage  and  the 
Secretary.  He  sat  on  the  box  and  Mr.  Sloppy  graced  the 
rumble.  So,  to  the  Three  Magpies  as  before:  where  Mrs. 
Boffin  and  Miss  Bella  were  handed  out,  and  whence  they 
all  went  on  foot  to  Mrs.  Betty  HigdeiTs. 

But,  on  the  way  down,  they  had  stopped  at  a toy-shop, 
and  had  bought  that  noble  charger,  a description  of 
whose  points  and  trappings  had  on  the  last  occasion  con- 
ciliated the  then  worldly-minded  orphan,  and  also  a 
Noah’s  ark,  and  also  a yellow  bird  with  an  artificial 
voice  in  him,  and  also  a military  doll  so  well  dressed 
that  if  he  had  only  been  of  life-size  his  brother-officers 
in  the  Guards  might  never  have  found  him  out.  Bear- 
ing these  gifts,  they  raised  the  latch  of  Betty  Higden’s 
door,  and  saw  her  sitting  in  the  dimmest  and  furthest 
corner  with  poor  Johnny  in  her  lap. 

"And  how’s  my  boy,  Betty  ?”  asked  Mrs.  Boffin,  sit- 
ting down  beside  her. 

"He’s  bad!  He’s  bad!”  said  Betty.  "I  begin  to  be 
afeerd  he’ll  not  be  yours  any  more  than  mine.  All  others 
belonging  to  him  have  gone  to  the  Power  and  the  Glory, 
and  I have  a mind  that  they’re  drawing  him  to  them — 
leading  him  away.” 

"No,  no,  no,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin. 

" I don’t  know  why  else  he  clenches  his  little  hand  as 
if  it  had  hold  of  a finger  that  I can’t  see.  Look  at  it,” 
said  Betty,  opening  the  wrappers  in  which  the  flushed 


348 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


child  lay^  and  showing  his  small  right  hand  lying  closed 
upon  his  breast.  '^It’s  always  so.  It  don’t  mind  me.” 

^^Is  he  asleep  ?” 

'^No,  I think  not.  You’re  not  asleep,  my  Johnny?” 

^^No,”  said  Johnny,  with  a quite  air  of  pity  for  him- 
self, and  without  opening  his  eyes. 

Here’s  the  lady,  Johnny.  And  the  horse.” 

Johnny  could  bear  the  lady  with  complete  indif- 
ference, but  not  the  horse.  Opening  his  heavy  eyes,  he 
slowly  broke  into  a smile  on  beholding  that  splendid 
phenomenon,  and  wanted  to  take  it  in  his  arms.  As  it 
was  much  too  big,  it  was  put  upon  a chair  where  he 
could  hold  it  by  the  mane  and  contemplate  it.  Which 
he  soon  forgot  to  do. 

But,  Johnny  murmuring  something  v/ith  his  eyes 
closed,  and  Mrs.  Boffin  not  knowing  what,  old  Betty 
bent  her  ear  to  listen  and  took  pains  to  understand.  Be- 
ing asked  by  her  to  repeat  what  he  had  said,  he  did  so 
two  or  three  times,  and  then  it  came  out  that  he  must 
have  seen  more  than  they  supposed  when  he  looked  up 
to  see  the  horse,  for  the  murmur  was,  ^^Who  is  the 
boofer  lady  ?”  Now,  the  boofer,  or  beautiful,  lady  was 
Bella;  and  whereas  this  notice  from  the  poor  baby  would 
have  touched  her  of  itself,  it  was  rendered  more  pathetic 
by  the  late  melting  of  her  heart  to  her  poor  little  father, 
and  their  joke  about  the  lo  ' lan.  So  Bella’s  be- 


haviour was  very  tender 


natural  when  she 


kneeled  on  the  brick  floor  to  clasp  the  child,  and  when 
the  child,  with  a child’s  admiration  of  what  is  young 
and  pretty,  fondled  the  boofer  lady. 

'^Now,  my  good  dear  Betty^”  said  Mrs.  Boffin,  hoping 
that  she  saw  her  opportunity,  and  laying  her  hand  per- 
suasively on  her  arm;  we  have  come  to  remove  Johnny 
from  this  cottage  to  where  he  can  be  taken  better 
care  of.” 

Instantly,  and  before  another  word  could  be  spoken, 
the  old  woman  started  up  with  blazing  eyes,  and  rushed 
at  the  door  with  the  sick  child. 

Stand  away  from  me  every  one  of  ye  !”  she  cried 
out  wildly.  I see  what  ye  mean  now.  Let  me  go  my 
way,  all  of  ye.  I’d  sooner  kill  the  Pretty,  and  kill  my- 


self.” 


Stay,  stay  !”  said  Rokesmith,  soothing  her.  You 
don’t  understand.  '’ 


THE  ORPHAN  MAKES  HIS  WILL 


349 


understand  too  well.  I know  too  much  about  it, 
sir.  Pve  run  from  it  too  many  a year.  No  ! Never  for 
me,  nor  for  the  child,  while  there’s  water  enough  in 
England  to  cover  us.” 

The  terror,  the  shame,  the  passion  of  horror  and  re- 
pugnance, firing  the  worn  face  and  perfectly  madden- 
ing it,  would  have  been  a quite  terrible  sight,  if  em- 
bodied in  one  old  fellow-creature  alone.  Yet  it  "''crops 
up  ” — as  our  slang  goes — my  lords  and  gentlemen  and 
honorable  boards,  in  other  fellow-creatures,  rather  fre- 
quently ! 

" It’s  been  chasing  me  all  my  life,  but  it  shall  never 
take  me  nor  mine  alive  ! ” cried  old  Betty.  "I’ve  done 
with  ye.  I’d  have  fastened  door  and  window  and 
starved  out,  afore  I’d  ever  have  let  ye  in,  if  I had 
known  what  ye  came  for.” 

But,  catching  sight  of  Mrs.  Boffin’s  wholesome  face, 
she  relented,  and  crouching  down  by  the  door  and 
bending  over  her  burden  to  hush  it,  said  humbly  : 
" Maybe  my  fears  has  put  me  wrong.  If  they  have  so, 
tell  me,  and  the  good  Lord  forgive  me  ! I’m  quick  to 
take  this  fright,  I know,  and  my  head  is  summ’at  light 
with  wearying  and  watching. 

" There,  there,  there  ! ” returned  Mrs.  Boffin.  " Come, 
come  ! Say  no  more  of  it,  Betty.  It  was  a mistake,  a 
mistake.  Any  one  of  us  might  have  made  it  in  your 
place,  and  felt  just  as  you  do.” 

"The  Lord  bless  ye  !”  said  the  old  woman,  stretching 
out  her  hand. 

" Now,  see,  Betty,”  pursued  the  sweet  compassionate 
soul,  holding  the  hand  kindly,  "what  I really  did  mean, 
and  what  I should  have  begun  by  saying  out,  if  I had 
only  been  a little  wiser  and  handier.  We  want  to  move 
Johnny  to  a place  where  there  are  none  but  children  ; 
a place  set  up  on  purpose  for  sick  children  ; where  the 
good  doctors  and  nurses  pass  their  lives  with  children, 
talk  to  none  but  children,  comfort  and  cure  none  but 
children.” 

" Is  there  really  such  a place  ? ” asked  the  old  woman, 
with  a gaze  of  wonder. 

"Yes,  Betty,  on  my  word;  and  you  shall  see  it.  If 
my  home  was  a better  place  for  the  dear  boy,  I’d  take 
him  to  it ; but  indeed,  indeed  it’s  not.” 

"You  shall  take  him,”  returned  Betty,  fervently 


350 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


kissing  the  comforting  hand,  where  you  will,  my 
deary.  I am  not  so  hard,  but  that  I believe  your  face 
and  voice,  and  I will  as  long  as  I can  see  and  hear.’’ 

This  victory  gained,  Rokesmith  made  haste  to  profit 
by  it,  for  he  saw  how  wofully  time  had  been  lost.  He 
despatched  Sloppy  to  bring  the  carriage  to  the  door  ; 
caused  the  child  to  be  carefully  wrapped  up  ; bade  old 
Betty*get  her  bonnet  on  ; collected  the  toys,  enabling 
the  little  fellow  to  comprehend  that  his  treasures  were 
to  be  transported  with  him  ; and  had  all  things  pre- 
pared so  easily  that  they  were  ready  for  the  carriage  as 
soon  as  it  appeared,  and  in  a minute  afterwards  were 
on  their  way.  Sloppy  they  left  behind,  relieving  his 
overcharged  breast  with  a paroxysm  of  mangling. 

At  the  Children’s  Hospital,  the  gallant  steed,  the 
Noah’s  ark,  the  yellow  bird,  and  the  officer  in  the 
Guards,  were  made  as  welcome  as  their  child-owner. 
But  the  doctor  said  aside  to  Rokesmith,  This  should 
have  been  days  ago.  Too  late  ! ” 

However,  they  were  all  carried  up  into  a fresh  airy 
room,  and  there  Johnny  came  to  himself,  out  of  a sleep 
or  a swoon,  or  whatever  it  was,  to  find  himself  lying  in 
a little  quiet  bed,  with  a little  platform  over  his  breast, 
on  which  were  already  arranged,  to  give  him  heart  and 
urge  him  to  cheer  up,  the  Noah’s  ark,  the  noble  steed, 
and  the  yellow  bird,  with  the  officer  in  the  Guards 
doing  duty  over  the  whole,  quite  as  much  to  the  satis- 
faction of  his  country  as  if  he  had  been  upon  Parade. 
And  at  the  bed’s  head  was  a coloured  picture  beautiful 
to  see,  representing  as  it  were  another  Johnny  seated 
on  the  knee  of  some  Angel  surely  who  loved  little 
children.  And,  marvellous  fact,  to  lie  and  stare  at  : 
Johnny  had  become  one  of  a little  family,  all  in  little 
quiet  beds  (except  two  playing  dominoes  in  little  arm- 
chairs at  a little  table  on  the  hearth)  : and  on  all  the 
little  beds  were  little  platforms  whereon  were  to  be  seen 
dolls’  houses,  woolly  dogs  with  mechanical  barks  in 
them  not  very  dissimilar  from  the  artificial  voice  per- 
vading the  bowels  of  the  yellow  bird,  tin  armies,  Moor- 
ish tumblers,  wooden  tea-things,  and  the  riches  of  the 
earth. 

As  Johnny  Kiurmured  something  in  his  placid  ad- 
miration, the  ministering  women  at  his  bed’s  head 
asked  him  what  he  said.  It  seemed  that  he  wanted  to 


THE  ORPHAN  MAKES  HIS  WILL. 


351 


know  whether  all  these  were  brothers  and  sisters  of 
his?  So  they  told  him  yes.  It  seemed,  then,  that  he 
wanted  to  know  whether  God  had  brought  them  all 
together  there?  So  they  told  him  yes  again.  They 
made  out,  then,  that  he  wanted  to  know  whether  they 
would  all  get  out  of  pain?  So  they  answered  yes  to  that 
question  likewise,  and  made  him  understand  that  the 
reply  included  himself. 

Johnny’s  powers  of  sustaining  conversation  were  as 
yet  so  very  imperfectly  developed  even  in  a state  of 
health,  that  in  sickness  they  were  little  more  than 
monosyllabic.  But,  he  had  to  be  washed  and  tended, 
and  remedies  were  applied,  and  though  those  • offices 
were  far,  far  more  skilfully  and  lightly  dolie  than  ever 
anything  had  been  done  for  him  in  his  little  life,  so 
rough  and  short,  they  would  have  hurt  and  tired  hhn 
but  for  an  amazing  circumstance  which  laid  hold  of  his 
attention.  This  was  no  less  than  the  appearance  on  his 
own  little  platform  in  pairs,  of  All  Creation,  on  its  v/ay 
into  his  own  particular  ark:  the  elephant  leading,  and 
the  fly,  with  a diffident  sense  of  his  size,  politely  bring- 
ing up  the  rear.  A very  little  brother  l3dng  in  the  next 
bed  with  a broken  leg,  was  so  enchanted  by  this  spectacle 
that  his  delight  exalted  its  enthralling  interest;  and  so 
came  rest  and  sleep. 

I see  you  are  not  afraid  to  leave  the  dear  child  here, 
Betty,”  whispered  Mrs.  Boffin. 

^^No,  ma’am.  Most  willingly,  most  thankfully,  with 
all  my  heart  and  soul.” 

So,  they  kissed  him,  and  left  him  there,  and  old  Betty 
was  to  come  back  early  in  the  morning,  and  nobody  but 
Rokesmith  knew  for  certain  how  that-  the  doctor  had 
said,  This  should  have  been  days  ago.  Too  late!  ” 

But,  Rokesmith  knov/ing  it,  and  knowing  that  his 
bearing  it  in  mind  would  be  acceptable  thereafter  to 
that  good  woman  who  had  been  the  only  light  in  the 
childhood  of  desolate  John  Harmon  dead  and  gone, 
resolved  that  late  at  night  he  would  go  back  to  the  bed- 
side of  John  Harmon’s  namesake,  and  see  how  it  fared 
with  him. 

The  family  whom  God  had  brought  together  were  not 
all  asleep,  but  were  all  quiet.  From  bed  to  bed,  a light 
womanly  tread  and  a pleasant  fresh  face  passed  in  the 
silence  of  the  night.  A little  head  would  lift  itself  up 


352 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


into  the  softened  light  here  and  there,  to  be  kissed  as 
the  face  went  by — for  these  little  patients  are  very 
loving — and  would  then  submit  itself  to  be  composed  to 
rest  again.  The  mite  with  the  broken  leg  was  restless, 
and  moaned  ; but  after  aAvhile  turned  his  face  towards 
Johnny’s  bed,  to  fortify  himself  with  a view  of  the  ark, 
and  fell  asleep.  Over  most  of  the  beds,  the  toys  were 
yet  grouped  as  the  children  had  left  them  when  they 
last  laid  themselves  down,  and,  in  their  innocent 
grotesqueness  and  incongruity,  they  might  have  stood 
for  the  children’s  dreams. 

The  doctor  came  in,  too,  to  see  how  it  fared  with 
Johnny.  And  he  and  Rokesmith  stood  together,  looking 
down  with  compassion  on  him. 

^ What  is  it,  Johnny  ? ” Rokesmith  was  the  questioner, 
and  put  an  arm  round  the  poor  baby  as  he  made  a 
struggle. 

Him  ! ” said  the  little  fellow.  Those  ! ” 

The  doctor  was  quick  to  understand  children,  and, 
taking  the  horse,  the  ark,  the  yellow  bird,  and  the  man 
in  the  Guards,  from  Johnny’s  bed,  softly  placed  them 
on  that  of  his  next  neighbor,  the  mite  with  the  broken 
leg.’ 

With  a weary  and  yet  a pleased  smile,  and  with  an 
action  as  if  he  stretched  his  little  figure  out  to  rest,  the 
child  heaved  his  body  on  the  sustaining  arm,  and  seek- 
ing Rokesmith’s  face  with  his  lips,  said: 

A kiss  for  the  boofer  lady.” 

Having  now  bequeathed  all  he  had  to  dispose  of,  and 
arranged  his  affairs  in  this  world,  Johnny,  thus  speak- 
ing, left  it. 


CHAPTER  X. 

A SUCCESSOR. 

SOME  of  the  Reverend  Frank  Milvey’s  brethren  had 
found  themselves  exceedingly  uncomfortable  in  their 
minds,  because  they  were  required  to  bury  the  dead  too 
hopefully.  But,  the  Reverend  Frank,  inclining  to  the 
belief  that  they  were  required  to  do  one  or  two  otlier 


A SUCCESSOR. 


353 


things  (say  out  of  nine-and-thirty)  calculated  to  trouble 
their  consciences  rather  more  if  they  would  think  as 
much  about  them,  held  his  peace. 

Indeed,  the  Reverend  Frank  Milvey  was  a forbearing 
man,  who  noticed  many  sad  warps  and  blights  in  the 
vineyard  wherein  he  worked,  and  did  not  profess  that 
they  made  him  savagely  wise.  He  only  learned  that 
the  more  he  himself  knew,  in  his  little  limited  human 
way,  the  better  he  could  distantly  imagine  what  Omnis- 
cience might  know. 

Wherefore,  if  the  Reverend  Frank  had  had  to  read  the 
words  that  troubled  some  of  his  brethren,  and  profitably 
touched  innumerable  hearts,  in  a worse  case  than 
Johnny’s,  he  would  have  done  so  out  of  the  pity  and 
humility  of  his  soul.  Reading  them  over  Johnny,  he 
thought  of  his  own  six  children,  but  not  of  his  poverty, 
and  read  them  with  dimmed  eyes.  And  very  seriously 
did  he  and  his  bright  little  wife,  who  had  been  listening, 
look  down  into  the  small  grave  and  walk  home 
arm-in-arm. 

There  was  grief  in  the  aristocratic  house,  and  there 
was  joy  in  the  Bower.  Mr.  Wegg  argued,  if  an  orphan 
were  wanted,  was  he  not  an  orphan  himself,  and  could 
a better  be  desired  ? And  why  go  beating  about  Brent- 
ford bushes,  seeking  orphans  forsooth  who  had  estab- 
lished no  claims  upon  you  and  made  no  sacrifices  for 
you,  when  here  was  an  orphan  ready  to  your  hand  who 
had  given  up  in  your  cause.  Miss  Elizabeth,  Master 
George,  Aunt  Jane,  and  Uncle  Parker  ? 

Mr.  Wegg  chuckled,  consequently,  when  he  heard  the 
tidings.  Nay,  it  was  afterwards  affirmed  by  a witness 
who  shall  at  present  be  nameless,  that  in  the  seclusion 
of  the  Bower  he  poked  out  his  wooden  leg,  in  the  stage- 
ballet  manner,  and  executed  a taunting  or  triumphant 
pirouette  on  the  genuine  leg  remaining  to  him. 

John  Rokesmith’s  manner  towards  Mrs.  Boffin  at  this 
time  was  more  the  manner  of  a young  man  towards  a 
mother  than  that  of  a Secretary  towards  his  employer’s 
wife.  It  had  always  been  marked  by  a subdued  affec- 
tionate deference  that  seemed  to  have  sprung  up  on  the 
very  day  of  his  engagement ; whatever  was  odd  in  her 
dress  or  her  ways  had  seemed  to  have  no  oddity  for 
him  ; he  had  sometimes  borne  a quietly  amused  face  in 
her  company,  but  still  it  had  seemed  as  if  the  pleasure 
VOL.  I.  23 


354 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


her  genial  temper  and  radiant  nature  yielded  him  could 
have  been  quite  as  naturally  expressed  in  a tear  as  in  a 
smile.  The  completeness  of  his  sympathy  with  her 
fancy  for  having  a little  John  Harmon  to  protect  and 
rear,  he  had  shown  in  every  act  and  word,  and  nov/ 
that  the  kind  fancy  was  disappointed,  he  treated  it  with 
a manly  tenderness  and  respect  for  which  she  could 
hardly  thank  him  enough. 

''But  I do  thank  you,  Mr.  Rokesmith,’’  said  Mrs. 
Boffin,  "and  I thank  you  most  kindly.  You  love  chil- 
dren.” 

" I hope  everybody  does.” 

" They  ought,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin ; " but  we  don’t  all  of 
us  do  what  we  ought ; do  us  ? ” 

John  Rokesmith  replied,  "Some  among  us  supply  the 
shortcomings  of  the  rest.  You  have  loved  children 
well,  Mr.  Boffin  has  told  me.” 

" Not  a bit  better  than  he  has,  but  that’s  his  way  ; he 
puts  all  the  good  upon  me.  You  speak  rather  sadly, 
Mr.  Rokesmith.” 

"Do  I ?” 

" It  sounds  to  me  so.  Were  you  one  of  many  chil- 
dren ?” 

He  shook  his  head. 

" An  only  child  ?” 

"No,  there  was  another.  Dead  long  ago.” 

" Father  or  mother  alive  ?” 

" Dead.” 

" And  the  rest  of  your  relations  ?” 

"Dead — if  I ever  had  any  living.  I never  heard  of 
any.” 

At  this  point  of  the  dialogue  Bella  came  in  with  a 
light  step.  She  paused  at  the  door  a moment,  hesitating 
whether  to  remain  or  retire ; perplexed  by  finding  that 
she  was  not  observed. 

"Now,  don’t  mind  an  old  lady’s  talk,  said  Mrs.  Boffin, 
" but  tell  me.  Are  you  quite  sure,  Mr.  Rokesmith,  that 
you  have  never  had  a disappointment  in  love  ? ” 

" Quite  sure.  Why  do  you  ask  me  ?” 

"Why,  for  this  reason.  Sometimes  you  have  a kind 
of  kept-down  manner  with  you,  which  is  not  like  your 
age.  You  can’t  be  thirty  ?” 

" I am  not  yet  thirty.” 

Deeming  it  high  time  to  make  her  presence  known, 


A SUCCESSOR. 


355 


Bella  coughed  here  to  attract  attencion,  begged  pardon, 
and  said  she  would  go,  fearing  that  she  interrupted 
some  matter  of  business. 

No,  don't  go,’’  rejoined  Mrs.  Boffin,  ''  because  we  are 
coming  to  business,  instead  of  having  begun  it,  and  you 
belong  to  it  as  much  now,  my  dear  Bella,  as  I do.  But 
I want  my  Noddy  to  consult  with  us.  Would  somebody 
be  so  good  as  to  find  my  Noddy  for  me  ?” 

Rokesmith  departed  on  that  errand,  and  presently  re- 
turned accompanied  by  Mr.  Boffin  at  his  jog-trot.  Bella 
felt  a little  vague  trepidation  as  to  the  subject-matter 
of  this  same  consultation,  until  Mrs.  Boffin  announced  it. 

^^Now,  you  come  and  sit  by  me,  my  dear,”  said  that 
worthy  soul,  taking  her  comfortable  place  on  a large 
ottoman  in  the  centre  of  the  room^,  and  drawing  her 
arm  through  Bella’s;  ^^and  Noddy,  you  sit  here,  and 
Mr.  Rokesmith  you  sit  there.  Now,  you  see,  what  I 
want  to  talk  about,  is  this.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Milvey 
have  sent  me  the  kindest  note  possible  (which  Mr.  Roke- 
smith just  now  read  to  me  out  loud,  for  I ain’t  good  at 
handwritings),  offering  to  find  me  another  little  child 
to  name  and  educate  and  bring  up.  Well.  This  has 
set  me  thinking.” 

(“^^And  she  is  a steam-ingein  at  at,”  murmured  Mr. 
Boffin,  in  an  admiring  parenthesis,  when  she  once  be- 
gins. It  mayn’t  be  so  easy  to  start  her;  but  once  started 
she’s  a ingein.”) 

— This  has  set  me  thinking,  I say,”  repeated  Mrs. 
Boffin,  cordially  beaming  under  the  influence  of  her 
husband’s  compliment,  and  I have  thought  two  things. 
First  of  all,  that  I have  grown  timid  of  reviving  John 
Harmon’s  name.  It’s  an  unfortunate  name,  and  I fancy 
I should  reproach  myself  if  I gave  it  to  another  dear 
child,  and  it  proved  again  unlucky.” 

^^Now,  whether,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  gravely  propoum"- 
ing  a case  for  his  Secretary’s  opinion;  '^whether  one 
might  call  that  a superstition  ? ” 

It  is  a matter  of  feeling  with  Mrs.  Boffin,”  said  Roke- 
smith, gently.  ^^The  name  has  always  been  unfortu- 
nate. It  has  now  this  new  unfortunate  association 
connected  with  it.  The  name  has  died  out.  Why  re- 
vive it?  Might  I ask  Miss  Wilfer  what  she  thinks?  ” 

It  has  not  been  a fortunate  name  for  me,”  said  Bella, 
colouring — ^^or  at  least  it  was  not,  until  it  led  to  my 


356 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


being  here — but  that  is  not  the  point  in  my  thoughts. 
As  we  had  given  the  name  to  the  poor  child,  and  as  the 
poor  child  took  so  lovingly  to  me,  I think  I should  feel 
jealous  of  calling  another  child  by  it.  I think  I should 
feel  as  if  the  name  had  become  endeared  to  me,  and  I 
had  no  right  to  use  it  so.’’ 

^^And  that’s  your  opinion?”  remarked  Mr.  Boffin, 
observant  of  the  Secretary’s  face  and  again  addressing 
him. 

I say  again,  it  is  a matter  of  feeling,”  returned  the 
Secretary.  ‘‘1  think  Miss  Wilfer’s  feeling  very  wo- 
manly and  pretty.” 

Now,  give  us  your  opinion.  Noddy,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin. 

‘^^My  opinion,  old  lady,”  returned  the  Golden  Dust- 
man, ‘As  your  opinion.” 

^^Then,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin,  ^^we  agree  not  to  revive 
John  Harmon’s  name,  but  to  let  it  rest  in  the  grave.  It 
is,  as  Mr.  Rokesmith  says,  a matter  of  feeling,  but  Lor 
how  many  matters  are  matters  of  feeling  ! Well;  and 
so  I come  to  the  second  thing  I have  thought  of.  You 
must  know,  Bella,  my  dear,  and  Mr.  Rokesmith,  that 
when  I first  named  to  my  husband  my  thoughts  of 
adopting  a little  orphan  boy  in  remembrance  of  John 
Harmon,  I further  named  to  my  husband  that  it  was 
comforting  to  think  that  how  the  poor  boy  would  be 
benefitted  by  John’s  own  money,  and  protected  from 
John’s  own  forlornness.” 

‘^‘^Hear,  hear!”  cried  Mr.  Boffin.  So.  she  did.  An- 
coar!  ” 

• ^^No,  not  Ancoar,  Noddy,  my  dear,”  returned  Mrs. 

Boffin,  ''because  I am  going  to  say  something  else.  I 
meant  that,  I am  sure,  as  much  as  I still  mean  it.  But 
this  little  death  has  made  me  ask  myself  the  question, 
seriously,  whether  I wasn’t  too  bent  upon  pleasing  my- 
self. Else  why  did  I seek  out  so  much  for  a pretty  child, 
and  a child  quite  to  my  liking?  Wanting  to  do  good, 
why  not  do  it  for  its  own  sake,  and  put  my  tastes  and 
likings  by?” 

" Perhaps,”  said  Bella;  and  perhaps  she  said  it  with 
some  little  sensitiveness  arising  out  of  those  old  curious 
relations  of  hers  towards  the  murdered  man;  " perhaps, 
in  reviving  the  name,  you  would  not  have  liked  to  give 
it  to  a less  interesting  child  than  the  original.  He  in- 
terested you  very  much.” 


A SUCCESSOR. 


35? 


Well,  my  dear,’’  returned  Mrs.  Boffin,  giving  her  a 
squeeze,  it’s  kind  of  you  to  find  that  reason  out,  and  I 
hope  it  may  have  been  so,  and  indeed  to  a certain  extent 
I believe  it  was  so,  but  I am  afraid  not  to  the  whole 
extent.  However,  that  don’t  come  in  question  now, 
because  we  have  done  with  the  name.” 

Laid  it  up  as  a remembrance,”  suggested  Bella 
musingly. 

Much  better  said,  my  dear;  laid  it  up  as  a remem- 
brance. Well,  then;  I have  been  thinking  if  I take  an 
orphan  to  provide  for,  let  it  not  be  a pet  and  a plaything 
for  me,  but  a creature  to  be  helped  for  its  own  sake.” 

Not  pretty,  then?”  said  Bella. 

No,”  returned  Mrs.  Boffin  stoutly. 

Nor  prepossessing,  then?”  said  Bella. 

^^No,”  returned  Mrs.  Boffin.  ^'Not  necessarily  so. 
That’s  as  it  may  happen.  A well-disposed  boy  comes  in 
my  way  who  may  he  even  a little  wanting  in  such  ad- 
vantages for  getting  on  in  life,  but  is  honest  and  in- 
dustrious and  requires  a helping  hand  and  deserves  it. 
If  I am  very  mucn  in  earnest  and  quite  determined  to 
be  unselfish,  let  me  take  care  of 

Here  the  footman,  whose  feelings  had  been  hurt  on  the 
former  occasion,  appeared,  and,  crossing  to  Rokesmith, 
apologetically  announced  the  objectionable  Sloppy. 

The  four  members  of  Council  looked  at  one  another, 
and  paused.  Shall  he  be  brought  here,  ma’am?  ” asked 
Rokesmith. 

^^Yes,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin.  Whereupon  the  footman 
disappeared,  reappeared  presenting  Sloppy,  and  retired 
much  disgusted. 

The  consideration  of  Mrs.  Boffin  had  clothed  Mr. 
Sloppy  in  a suit  of  black,  on  wliich  the  tailor  had  re- 
ceived personal  directions  from  Rokesmith  to  expend 
utmost  cunning  of  his  art,  with  a view  to  the  conceal- 
ment of  the  cohering  and  sustaining  buttons.  But,  so 
much  more  powerful  were  the  frailties  of  Sloppy’s  form 
than  the  strongest  resources  of  tailoring  science,  that 
he  now  stood  before  the  Council,  a perfect  Argus  in  the 
way  of  buttons:  shining  and  winking  and  gleaming  and 
twinkling  out  of  a hundred  of  those  eyes  of  bright 
metal,  at  the  dazzled  spectators.  The  artistic  taste  of 
some  unknown  hatter  had  furnished  him  with  a hat- 
band of  wholesale  capacity  which  was  fluted  behind, 


358 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


from  the  crown  of  his  hat  to  the  brim,  and  terminated 
in  a black  bunch,  from  which  the  imagination  shrunk 
discomfited  and  the  reason  revolted.  Some  special 
powers  with  which  his  legs  were  endowed,  had  already 
hitched  up  his  glossy  trousers  at  the  ankles,  and  bagged 
them  at  the  knees;  while  similar  gifts  in  his  arms  had 
raised  his  coat-sleeves  from  his  wrists  and  accumulated 
them'  at  his  elbows.  Thus  set  forth,  with  the  additional 
embellishments  of  a very  tail  to  his  coat,  and  a yawn- 
ing gulf  at  his  waistband.  Sloppy  stood  confessed. 

''And  how  is  Betty,  my  good  fellow?’’  Mrs.  Boffin 
asked  him. 

" Thankee,  mum,’^  said  Sloppy,  " she  do  pretty  nicely, 
and  sending  her  dooty  and  many  thanks  for  the  tea  and 
all  faviours,  and  wishing  to  know -the  family’s  healths.” 

" Have  you  just  come,  Sloppy?” 

"Yes,  mum.” 

" Then  you  have  not  had  your  dinner  yet?” 

"No,  mum.  But  I mean  to  it.  For  I ain’t  forgotten 
your  handsome  orders  that  I was  never  to  go  away 
without  having  had  a good’un  off  of  meat  and  beer  and 
pudding — no : there  was  four  of  ’em,  for  I reckoned  ’em 
up  when  I had  ’em;  meat  one,  beer  two,  vegetables 
three,  and  which  was  four? — Why,  pudding,  he  was 
four!”  Here  Sloppy  threw  his  head  back,  opened  his 
mouth  wide,  and  laughed  rapturously. 

"How  are  the  two  poor  little  Minders?”  asked  Mrs. 
Boffin. 

"Striking  right  out,  mum,  and  coming  round  beauti- 
ful.” 

Mrs.  Boffin  looked  on  the  other  three  members  of 
Council,  and  then  said,  beckoning  with  her  finger: 

"Sloppy.” 

"Yes,  mum.” 

" Come  forward,  Sloppy.  S lould  you  like  to  dine  here 
every  day?” 

"Off  of  all  four  on ’em,  mum?  0 mum!”  Sloppy’s 
feelings  obliged  him  to  squeeze  his  hat,  and  contract 
one  leg  at  the  knee. 

"Yes.  And  should  you  like  to  be  always  taken  care 
of  here,  if  you  were  industrious  and  deserving  ? ” 

"Oh,  mum! — But  there’s  Mrs.  Higden,”  said  Sloppy, 
checking  himself  in  his  raptures,  drawing  back  and 
shaking  his  head  with  very  serious  meaning.”  There’s 


A SUCCESSOK 


359 


Mrs.  Higden.  Mrs.  Higden  goes  before  all.  None  can 
ever  be  better  friends  to  me  than  Mrs.  Higden’s  been. 
And  she  must  be  turned  for,  must  Mrs.  Higden.  Where 
would  Mrs.  Higden  be  if  she  warn’t  turned  for!”  At 
the  mere  thought  of  Mrs.  Higden  in  this  inconceivable 
"affliction,  Mr.  Sloppy’s  countenance  became  pale,  and 
manifested  the  most  distressful  emotions. 

''You  are  as  right  as  right  can  be.  Sloppy,”  said  Mrs. 
Boffln,  " and  far  be  it  from  me  to  tell  you  otherwise.  It 
shall  be  seen  to.  If  Betty  Higden  can  be  turned  for  all 
the  same,  you  shall  come  here  and  be  taken  care  of  for 
life,  and  be  made  able  to  keep  her  in  other  ways  than 
the  turning.” 

"Even  as  to  that,  mum,”  answered  the  ecstatic 
Sloppy,  "the  turning  might  be  done  in  the  night,  don’t 
you  see?  I could  be  here  in  the  day,  and  turn  in  the 
night.  I don’t  want  no  sleep,  I don’t.  Or  even  if  I any 
ways  should  want  a wink  or  two,”  added  Sloppy,  after 
a moment’s  apologetic  reflection,  " I could  take  ’em 
turning.  I’ve  took  ’em  turning  many  a time,  and  en- 
joyed ’em  wonderful !” 

On  the  grateful  impulse  of  the  moment,  Mr.  Sloppy 
kissed  Mrs.  Boffln’s  hand,  and  then  detaching  himself 
from  that  good  creature  that  he  might  have  room 
enough  for  his  feelings,  threw  back  his  head,  opened 
his  mouth  wide,  and  uttered  a dismal  howl.  It  was 
creditable  to  his  tenderness  of  heart,  but  suggested  that 
he  might  on  occasion  give  some  offence  to  the  neigh- 
bours: the  rather,  as  the  footman  looked  in,  and  begged 
pardon,  flnding  he  was  not  wanted,  but  excused  him- 
self, on  the  ground  "that  he  thought  it  was  Cats.” 


CHAPTER  XL 

SOME  AFFAIRS  OF  THE  HEART. 

Little  Miss  Feecher,  from  her  little  official  dwelling- 
house,  with  its  little  windows  like  the  eyes  in  needles, 
and  its  little  doors  like  the  covers  of  school-books,  was 
very  observant  indeed  of  the  object  of  her  quiet  affec- 
tions, Love,  though  said  to  be  afflicted  with  blindness, 


360 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


is  a vigilant  watchman,  and  Miss  Peecher  kept  him  on 
double  duty  over  Mr.  Bradley  Headstone.  It  was  not 
that  she  was  naturally  given  to  playing  the  spy — it  was 
not  that  she  was  at  all  secret,  plotting,  or  mean — it  was 
simply  that  she  loved  the  irresponsive  Bradley 
with  all  the  primitive  and  homely  stock  of  love  that 
had  never  been  examined  or  certificated  out  of  her.  If 
her  faithful  slate  had  had  the  latent  qualities  of  sympa- 
thetic paper,  and  its  pencil  those  of  invisible  ink,  many 
a little  treatise  calculated  to  astonish  the  pupils  would 
have  come  bursting  through  the  dry  sums  in  school- 
time  under  the  warming  influence  of  Miss  PeecheFs 
bosom.  For,  oftentimes  when  school  was  not,  and  her 
calm  leisure  and  calm  little  house  were  her  own.  Miss 
Peecher  would  commit  to  the  confidential  slate  an  im- 
aginary description  of  how,  upon  a balmy  evening  at 
dusk,  two  figures  might  have  been  observed  in  the 
market-garden  ground  round  the  corner,  of  whom  one, 
being  a manly  form,  bent  over  the  other,  being  a 
womanly  form  of  short  stature  and  some  compactness, 
and  breathed  in  a low  voice  the  words,  Emma  Peecher, 
wilt  thou  be  my  own  ? ’’  after  which  the  womanly  form’s 
head  reposed  upon  the  manly  form’s  shoulder,  and  the 
nightingales  tuned  up.  Though  all  unseen,  and  unsus- 
pected by  the  pupils,  Bradley  Headstone  even  pervaded 
the  school  exercises.  Was  Geography  in  question  ? He 
would  come  triumphantly  flying  out  of  Vesuvius  and 
.^tna  ahead  of  the  lava,  and  would  boil  unharmed  in 
the  hot  springs  of  Iceland,  and  would  float  majestically 
down  the  Ganges  and  the  Nile.  Did  History  chronicle 
a king  of  men  ? Behold  him  in  pepper-and-salt  panta- 
loons, with  his  watch-guard  round  his  neck.  Were 
copies  to  be  w'ritten  ? In  capital  B’s  and  H’s  most  of 
the  girls  under  Miss  Peecher  s tuition  were  half  a year 
ahead  of  every  other  letter  in  the  alphabet.  And  Men- 
tal Arithmetic,  administered  by  Miss  Peecher,  often  de- 
voted itself  to  providing  Bradley  Headstone  with  a 
wardrobe  of  fabulous  extent  ; fourscore  and  four  neck- 
ties at  two  and  ninepence-halfpenny,  two  gross  of  silver 
watches  at  four  pound  fifteen  and  sixpence,  seventy- 
four  black  hats  at  eighteen  shillings  ; and  many  similar 
superfluities. 

The  vigilant  watchman,  using  his  daily  opportunities 
of  turning  his  eyes  in  Bradley’s  direction,  soon  apprized 


SOME  AFFAIRS  OF  THE  HEART. 


861 


Miss  Peecher  that  Bradley  was  more  preoccupied  than 
had  been  his  wont,  and  more  given  to  strolling  about 
with  a downcast  and  reserved  face,  turning  something 
difficult  in  his  mind  that  was  not  in  the  scholastic  sylla- 
bus. Putting  this  and  that  together — combining  under 
the  head  ‘'this,’’  present  appearances  and  the  intimacy 
with  Charley  Hexam,  and  ranging  under  the  head 
“ that”  the  visit  to  his  sister,  the  watchman  reported  to 
Miss  Peecher  his  strong  suspicions  that  the  sister  was 
at  the  bottom  of  it. 

“ I wonder,”  said  Miss  Peecher,  as  she  sat  making  up 
her  weekly  report  on  a half -holiday  afternoon,  “what 
they  call  Hexam’s  sister?” 

Mary  Anne,  at  her  needlework,  attendant  and  atten- 
tive, held  her  arm  up. 

“ Well,  Mary  Anne?  ” 

“She  is  named  Lizzie,  ma’am.” 

“She  can  hardly  be  named  Lizzie,  I think,  Mary 
Anne,”  returned  Miss  Peecher,  in  a tunefully  in- 
structive voice.  “Is  Lizzie  a Christian  name,  Mary 
Anne?^’ 

Mary  Anne  laid  down  her  work,  rose,  hooked  herself 
behind,  as  being  under  catechisation,  and  replied:  “No, 
it  is  a corruption.  Miss  Peecher.” 

“ Who  gave  her  that  name?  ” Miss  Peecher  was  going 
on,  from  the  mere  force  of  habit,  when  she  checked 
herself,  on  Mary  Anne’s  evincing  theological  impa- 
tience to  strike  in  with  her  godfathers  and  her  god- 
mothers, and  said:  “ I mean  of  what  name  is  it  a cor- 
ruption?” 

“Elizabeth,  or  Eliza,  Miss  Peecher.” 

“ Right,  Mary  Anne.  Whether  there  were  any  Lizzies 
in  the  early  Christian  Church  must  be  considered  very 
doubtful,  very  doubtful.”  Miss  Peecher  was  exceed- 
ingly sage  here.  “Speaking  correctly,  we  say,  then, 
that  Hexam’s  sister  is  called  Lizzie;  not  that  she  is 
named  so.  Do  we  not,  Mary  Anne?” 

“We  do.  Miss  Peecher.” 

“ And  where,”  pursued  Miss  Peecher,  complacent  in 
her  little  transparent  fiction  of  conducting  the  examina- 
tion in  a semi-official  manner  for  Mary  Anne’s  benefit^ 
not  her  own,  “ where  does  this  young  woman,  who  is 
called  but  not  named  Lizzie,  live  ? Think,  now,  before 
answering.” 


362  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

Church  Street,  Smith  Square,  by  Mill  Bank, 
ma’am.” 

In  Church  Street,  Smith  Square,  by  Mill  Bank,”  re- 
peated Miss  Beecher,  as  if  possessed  beforehand  of  the 
book  in  which  it  was  written.  Exactly  so.  And  what 
occupation  does  this  young  woman  pursue,  Mary  Anne? 
Take  time.” 

She  has  a place  of  trust  at  an  outfitter’s  in  the  City, 
ma’am.” 

^^Oh!”  said  Miss  Beecher,  pondering  on  it;  but 
smoothly  added,  in  a confirmatory  tone,  ^^At  an  out- 
fitter’s in  the  City.  Ye-es?” 

And  Charley ” Mary  Anne  was  proceeding,  when 

Miss  Beecher  stared. 

I mean  Hexam,  Miss  Beecher.” 

I should  think  you  did,  Mary  Anne.  I am  glad  to 
hear  you  do.  And  Hexam?” 

Says,”  Mary  Anne  went  on,  ^^that  he  is  not  pleased 
with  his  sister,  and  that  his  sister  won’t  be  guided  by 
his  advice,  and  persists  in  being  guided  by  somebody 
else's;  and  that ” 

'^Mr.  Headstone  coming  across  the  garden!”  ex- 
claimed Miss  Beecher,  with  a fiushed  glance  at  the 
looking-glass.  ^^You  have  answered  very  well,  Mary 
Anne.  You  are  forming  an  excellent  habit  of  arrang- 
ing your  thoughts  clearly.  That  will  do.” 

The  discreet  Mary  Anne  resumed  her  seat  and  her 
silence,  and  stitched,  and  stitched,  and  was  stitching 
when  the  schoolmaster’s  shadow  came  in  before  him, 
announcing  that  he  might  be  instantly  expected. 

Good  evening.  Miss  Beecher,”  he  said,  pursuing  the 
shadow,  and  taking  its  place. 

‘^Good  evening,  Mr.  Headstone.  Mary  Anne,  a 
chair.” 

Thank  you,”  said  Bradley,  seating  himself  in  his  con- 
strained manner.  This  is  but  a fiying  visit.  I have 
looked  in,  on  my  way,  to  ask  a kindness  of  you  as  a 
neighbour.”. 

‘‘Did  you  say  on  your  way,  Mr.  Headstone  ?”  asked 
Miss  Beecher. 

^ On  my  way  to — where  I am  going.” 

''Church  Street,  Smith  Square,  by  Mill  Bank,”  re- 
peated Miss  Beecher  in  her  own  thoughts. 

" Charley  Hexam  has  gone  to  get  a book  or  two  he 


SOME  AFFAIRS  OF  THE  HEART. 


363 


wants,  and  will  probably  be  back  before  me.  As  we 
leave  my  house  empty,  I took  the  liberty  of  telling  him 
I would  leave  the  key  here.  Would  you  kindly  allow 
me  to  do  so  ? ” 

Certainly,  Mr.  Headstone.  Going  for  an  evening 
walk,  sir  ? ” 

Partly  for  a walk,  and  partly  for — on  business.’’ 

Business  in  Church  Street,  Smith  Square,  by  Mill 
Bank,”  repeated  Miss  Peecher  to  herself. 

Having  said  which,”  pursued  Bradley,  laying  his 
door-key  on  the  table,  I must  be  already  going. 
There  is  nothing  I can  do  for  you,  Miss  Peecher?” 

Thank  you,  Mr.  Headstone.  In  which  direction?” 

In  the  direction  of  Westminster.” 

^‘^Mill  Bank,”  Miss  Peecher  repeated  in  her  own 
thoughts  once  again.  ^^No,  thank  you,  Mr.  Headstone; 
I’ll  not  trouble  you.”  ^ 

You  couldn’t  trouble  me,”  said  the  schoolmaster. 

'^Ah!”  returned  Miss  Peecher;  though  not  aloud; 
''  but  you  can  trouble  me  And  for  all  her  quiet  man- 
ner, and  her  quiet  smile,  she  was  full  of  trouble  as  he 
went  his  way. 

She  was  right  touching  his  destination.  He  held  as 
straight  a course  for  the  house  of  the  doll’s  dressmaker 
as  the  wisdom  of  his  ancestors,  exemplified  in  the  con- 
struction of  the  intervening  streets,  would  let  him,  and 
walked  with  a bent  head  hammering  at  one  fixed  idea. 
It  had  been  an  immovable  idea  since  he  first  set  eyes 
upon  her.  It  seemed  to  him  as  if  all  that  he  could  sup- 
press in  himself  he  had  suppressed,  as  if  all  that  he 
could  restrain  in  himself  he  had  restrained,  and  the 
time  had  come — in  a rush,  in  a moment — when  the 
power  of  self-command  had  departed  from  him.  Love 
at  first  sight  is  a trite  expression  quite  sufficiently  dis- 
cussed ; enough  that  in  certain  smouldering  natures 
like  this  man’s  that  passion  leaps  into  a blaze,  and 
makes  such  head  as  fire  does  in  a rage  of  wind,  when 
other  passions,  but  for  its  mastery,  could  be  held  in 
chains.  As  a multitude  of  weak,  imitative  natures  are 
always  lying  by,  ready  to  go  mad  upon  the  next  wrong 
idea  that  may  be  broached — in  these  times,  generally 
some  form  of  tribute  to  Somebody  for  something  that 
never  was  done,  or,  if  ever  done,  that  was  done  by 
Somebody  Else — so  these  less  ordinary  natures  may  lie 


364  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

by  for  years,  ready  on  the  touch  of  an  instant  to  burst 
into  flame. 

The  schoolmaster  went  his  way,  brooding  and  brood- 
ing, and  a sense  of  being  vanquished  in  a struggle 
might  have  been  pieced  out  of  his  worried  face.  Truly, 
in  his  breast  there  lingered  a resentful  shame  to  And 
himself  defeated  by  this  passion  for  Charley  Hexam’s 
sister,  though  in  the  very  self-same  moments  he  was 
concentrating  himself  upon  the  object  of  bringing  the 
passion  to  a successful  issue. 

He  appeared  before  the  doll’s  dressmaker,  sitting 
alone  at  her  work.  Oho  !”  thought  that  sharp  young 
personage,  it’s  you,  is  it  ? I know  your  tricks  and 
your  manners,  my  friend  ! ” 

Hexam’s  sister,”  said  Bradley  Headstone,  ^^is  not 
come  home  yet  ? ” 

You  are  quite  a conjurer,”  returned  Miss  Wren. 

. I will  wait,  if  you  please,  for  I want  to  speak  to 
her.” 

Do  you?”  returned  Miss  Wren.  ^^Sit  down.  I 
hope  it’s  mutual.” 

Bradley  glanced  distrustfully  at  the  shrewd  face  again 
bending  over  the  work,  and  said,  trying  to  conquer 
doubt  and  hesitation  : 

hope  you  don’t  imply  that  my  visit  will  be  unac- 
ceptable to  Hexam’s  sister  ?” 

''There!  Don’t  call  her  that.  I can’t  bear  you  to 
call  her  that,”  returned  Miss  Wren,  snapping  her  fingers 
in  a volley  of  impatient  snaps,  "for  I don’t  like  Hex- 
am.” 

"Indeed!” 

"No.”  Miss  Wren  wrinkled  her  nose  to  express  dis- 
like. "Selfish.  Thinks  only  of  himself.  The  way 
with  all  of  you.” 

" The  way  with  all  of  us  ? Then  you  don’t  like 

" So-so,”  replied  Miss  Wren,  with  a shrug  and  a laugh. 
" Don’t  know  much  about  you.  ” 

" But  I was  not  aware  it  was  the  way  with  all  of  us,” 
said  Bradley,  returning  to  the  accusation,  a little  in- 
jured. "Won’t  you  say  some  of  us  ?” 

" Meaning,”  returned  the  little  creature,  " every  one 
of  you  but  you.  Hah  ! Now  look  this  lady  in  the 
face.  This  is  Mrs.  Truth.  The  Honourable.  Full- 
dressed.” 


SOME  AFFAIRS  OF  THE  HEART. 


365 


Bradley  glanced  at  the  doll  she  held  up  for  his  obser- 
vation— which  had  been  lying  on  its  face  on  her  bench, 
while  with  a needle  and  thread  sli^  fastened  the  dress 
on  at  the  back — and  looked  from  it  to  her. 

stand  the  Honourable  Mrs.  T.  on  my  bench  in  this 
corner  against  the  wall,  where  her  blue  eyes  can  shine 
upon  you,”  pursued  Miss  Wren,  doing  so,  and  making 
two  little  dabs  at  him  in  the  air  with  her  needle,  as  if 
she  pricked  him  with  it  in  his  own  eyes ; '^and  I defy 
you  to  tell  me,  with  Mrs,  T.  for  a witness,  what  you 
have  come  here  for.” 

To  see  Hexam’s  sister.” 

^Wou  don’t  say  so  !”  retorted  Miss  Wren,  hitching 
her  chin.  ^^But  on  whose  account  ?” 

Her  own.” 

Oh,  Mrs.  T.  ! ” exclaimed  Miss  Wren.  You  hear 
him  !” 

To  reason  with  her,”  pursued  Bradley,  half  humour- 
ing what  was  present,  and  half  angry  with  what  was 
not  present ; ‘'"for  her  own  sake.” 

""  Oh,  Mrs.  T.  !”  exclaimed  the  dressmaker. 

""For  her  own  sake,”  repeated  Bradley,  warming, 
""  and  for  her  brother’s,  and  as  a perfectly  disinterested 
person.” 

""  Really,.  Mrs.  T.,  remarked  the  dressmaker,  ""  since  it 
comes  to  this,  we  must  positively  turn  you  with  your 
face  to  the  wall.”  She  had  hardly  done  so  when  Lizzie 
Hexam  arrived,  and  showed  some  surprise  on  seeing 
Bradley  Headstone  there,  and  Jenny  shaking  her  little 
fist  at  him  close  before  her  eyes,  and  the  Honourable 
Mrs.  T.  with  her  face  to  the  wall. 

""  Here’s  a perfectly  disinterested  person,  Lizzie, 
dear,”  said  the  knowing  Miss  Wren,  ""come  to  talk  with 
you,  for  your  own  sake  and  your  brother’s.  Think  of 
that.  I am  sure  there  ought  to  be  no  third  party  pres- 
ent at  anything  so  very  kind  and  so  very  serious  ; and 
so,  if  you’ll  remove  third  party  upstairs,  my  dear,  the 
third  party  will  retire.” 

Lizzie  took  the  hand  which  the  doll’s  dregsmaker 
held  out  to  her  for  the  purpose  of  being  supported  away, 
but  only  looked  at  her  with  an  inquiring  smile,  and 
made  no  other  movement. 

""  The  third  party  hobbles  awfully,  you  know,  when 
she’s  left  to  herself,”  said  Miss  Wren,  ""  her  back  being 


366 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


so  bad,  and  her  legs  so  queer;  so  she  can’t  retire  grace- 
fully unless  you  help  her,  Lizzie.” 

She  can  do  no  better  than  stay  where  she  is,'^  re- 
turned Lizzie,  releasing  the  hand,  and  laying  her  own 
lightly  on  Miss  Jenny’s  curls!  And  then  to  Bradley: 

From  Charley,  sir?” 

In  an  irresolute  way,  and  stealing  a clumsy  look  at 
her,  Bradley  rose  to  place  a chair  for  her,  and  then  re- 
turned to  his  own. 

Strictly  speaking,”  said  he,  I come  from  Charley, 
because  I left  hiip  only  a little  while  ago;  but  I am  not 
commissioned  by  Charley.  I come  of  my  own  spon- 
taneous act.” 

With  her  elbows  on  her  bench,  and  her  chin  upon  her 
hands.  Miss  Jenny  Wren  sat  looking  at  him  with  a 
watchful  sidelong  look.  Lizzie,  in  her  different  way, 
sat  looking  at  him  too. 

‘^The  fact  is,”  began  Bradley,  with  a mouth  so  dry 
that  he  had  some  difficulty  in  articulating  his  words; 
the  consciousness  of  which  rendered  his  manner  still 
more  ungainly  and  undecided;  ^^the  truth  is,  that 
Charley,  having  no  secrets  from  me  (to  the  best  of  my 
belief)  has  confided  the  whole  of  this  matter  to  me.” 

He  came  to  a stop,  and  Lizzie  asked:  ^'What  matter, 
sir  ? ” 

I thought,”  returned  the  schoolmaster,  stealing 
another  look  at  her,  and  seeming  to  try  in  vain  to  sustain 
it;  for  the  look  dropped  as  it  lighted  on  her  eyes,  that 
it  might  be  so  superfluous  as  to  be  almost  impertinent, 
to  enter  upon  a definition  of  it.  My  allusion  was  to  this 
matter  of  your  having  put  aside  your  brother’s  plans 

for  you,  and  given  the  preference  to  those  of  Mr. 

I believe  the  name  is  Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn.” 

He  made  this  point  of  not  being  certain  of  the  name, 
with  another  uneasy  look  at  her,  which  dropped  like 
the  last.” 

Nothing  being  said  on  the  other  side,  he  had  to  begin 
again,  and  began  with  new  embarrassment. 

^Wour  brother’s  plans  were  communicated  to  me 
when  lie  first  had  them  in  his  thoughts.  In  point  of 
fact  he  spoke  to  me  about  them  when  I was  last  here — 
when  we  were  walking  back  together,  and  when  I — 
when  the  impression  was  fresh  upon  me  of  having  seen 
his  sister.” 


SOME  AFFAIRS  OF  THE  HEART. 


30? 


There  might  have  been  no  meaning  in  it,  but  the  little 
dressmaker  here  removed  one  of  her  supporting  hands 
from  her  chin,  and  musingly  turned  the  honourable 
Mrs.  T.  with  her  face  to  the  company.  That  done,  she 
fell  into  her  former  attitude. 

I approved  of  his  idea,’’  said  Bradley,  with  his  un- 
easy look  wandering  to  the  doll,  and  unconsciously 
resting  there  longer  than  it  had  rested  on  Lizzie,  ^^both 
because  your  brother  ought  naturally  to  be  the  origin- 
ator of  any  such  scheme,  and  because  I hoped  to  be 
able  to  promote  it.  I should  have  had  inexpressible 
pleasure,  I should  have  taken  inexpressible  interest,  in 
promoting  it.  Therefore  I must  acknowledge  that 
when  your  brother  was  disappointed,  I too  was  dis- 
appointed. I wish  to  avoid  reservation  or  concealment, 
and  I fully  acknowledge  that.” 

He  appeared  to  have  encouraged  himself  by  having 
got  so  far.  At  all  events  he  went  on  with  much  greater 
firmness  and  force  of  emphasis  : though  with  a curious 
disposition  to  set  his  teeth,  and  with  a curious  tight- 
screwing  movement  of  his  right  hand  in  the  clenching 
palm  of  his  left,  like  the  action  of  one  who  was  being 
physically  hurt,  and  was  unwilling  to  cry  out. 

I am  a man  of  strong  feelings,  and  I have  strongly 
felt  this  disappointment.  I do  strongly  feel  it.  I don’t 
show  what  I feel ; some  of  us  are  obliged  habitually  to 
keep  it  down.  To  keep  it  down.  But  to  return  to  your 
brother.  He  has  taken  the  matter  so  much  to  heart 
that  he  has  remonstrated  (in  my  presence  he  remon- 
strated) with  Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn,  if  that  be  the 
name.  He  did  so,  quite  ineffectually.  As  any  one  not 
blinded  to  the  real  character  of  Mr. — Mr.  Eugene 
Wrayburn — would  readily  suppose.” 

He  looked  at  Lizzie  again,  and  held  the  look.  And 
his  face  turned  from  burning  red  to  white,  and  from- 
white  back  to  burning  red,  and  so  for  the  time  to  last- 
ing deadly  white. 

Finally,  I resolved  to  come  here  alone,  and  appeal 
to  you.  I resolved  to  come  here  alone,  and  entreat  you 
to  retract  the  course  you  have  chosen,  and  instead  of 
confiding  in  a mere  stranger — a person  of  most  insolent 
behaviour  to  your  brother  and  others — to  prefer  your 
brother  and  your  brother’s  friend.” 

Lizzie  Hexam  had  changed  colour  when  those 


368 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


changes  came  over  him,  and  her  face  now  expressed^ 
some  anger,  more  dislike,  and  even  a touch  of  fear. 
But  she  answered  him  very  steadily. 

I cannot  doubt,  Mr.  Headstone,  that  your  visit  is 
well  meant.  You  have  been  so  good  a friend  to  Charley 
that  I have  no  right  to  doubt  it.  I have  nothing  to  tell 
Charley,  but  that  I accepted  the  help  to  which  he  so 
much  objects  before  he  made  any  plans  for  me ; or 
certainly  before  I knew  of  any.  It  was  considerately 
and  delicately  offered,  and  there  were  reasons  that  had 
weight  with  me  which  should  be  as  dear  to  Charley  as 
to  me.  I have  no  more  to  say  to  Charley  on  this 
subject.’’ 

His  lips  trembled  and  stood  apart,  as  he  followed  this 
repudiation  of  himself,  and  limitation  of  her  words  to 
her  brother. 

‘‘1  should  have  told  Charley,  if  he  had  come  to  me,” 
she  resumed,  as  though  it  were  an  after-thought,  ^^that 
Jenny  and  I found  our  teacher  very  able  and  very 
patient,  and  that  she  takes  great  pains  with  us.  So 
much  so,  that  we  have  said  to  her  we  hope  in  a very 
little  while  to  be  able  to  go  on  by  ourselves.  Charley 
knows  about  teachers,  and  I should  also  have  told  him, 
for  his  satisfaction,  that  ours  comes  from  an  institution 
were  teachers  are  regularly  brought  up.” 

I should  like  to  ask  you,”  said  Bradley  Headstone, 
grinding  his  words  slowly  out,  as  though  they  came 
from  a rusty  mill ; I should  like  to  ask  you,  if  I may 

without  offence,  whether  you  would  have  objected 

no;  rather,  I should  like  to  say,  if  I may  without  offence, 
that  I wish  I had  had  the  opportunity  of  coming  here 
with  your  brother  and  devoting  my  poor  abilities  and 
experience  to  your  service.” 

''Thank  you,  Mr.  Headstone.” 

. " But  I fear,  he  pursued,  after  a pause,  furtively 
wrenching  at  the  seat  of  his  chair  with  one  hand,  as  if 
he  would  have  wrenched  the  chair  to  pieces,  and  gloom- 
ily observing  the  while  her  eyes  were  cast  down,  " that 
my  humble  services  would  not  have  found  much  favour 
with  you  ? ” 

She  made  no  reply,  and  the  poor  stricken  wretch  sat 
contending  with  himself  in  a heat  of  passion  and  tor- 
ment. After  a while  he  took  out  his  handkerchief  and 
wiped  his  forhead  and  hands. 


SOME  AFFAIRS  OF  THE  HEART. 


369 


There  is  only  one  thing  more  I had  to  say,  but  it  is 
the  most  important.  There  is  a reason  against  this 
matter,  there  is  a personal  relation  concerned  in  this 
matter,  not  yet  explained  to  you.  It  might — I don’t  say 
it  would — it  might — induce  you  to  think  differently.  To 
proceed  under  the  present  circumstances  is  out  of  the 
question.  Will  you  please  come  to  the  understanding 
that  there  shall  be  another  interview  on  the  subject.” 

With  Charley,  Mr.  Headstone  ?” 

With — well,”  he  answered,  breaking  off,  yes!  Say 
with  him  too.  Will  you  please  come  to  the  understand- 
ing that  there  must  be  another  interview  under  more 
favourable  circumstances,  before  the  whole  case  can  be 
submitted  ? ” 

I don’t,”  said  Lizzie,  shaking  her  head,  understand 
your  meaning,  Mr.  Headstone.” 

Limit  my  meaning  for  the  present,”  he  interrupted, 
^^to  the  whole  case  being  submitted  to  you  in  another 
interview.” 

What  case,  Mr.  Headstone  ? What  is  wanting  to 
it?” 

‘‘You — you  shall  be  informed  in  the  other  inter- 
view.” Then  he  said,  as  if  in  a burst  of  irrepressible 
despair,  I — I leave  it  all  incomplete!  There  is  a spell 
upon  me,  I think!”  And  then  added,  almost  as  if  he 
asked  for  pity,  Good-night ! ” 

He  held  out  his  hand.  As  she,  with  manifest  hesita- 
tion, not  to  say  reluctance,  touched  it,  a strange  trem- 
ble passed  over  him,  and  his  face,  so  deadly  white,  was 
moved  as  by  a stroke  of  pain.  Then  he  was  gone. 

The  dolls’  dressmaker  sat  with  her  attitude  un- 
changed, eyeing  the  door  by  which  he  had  departed, 
until  Lizzie  pushed  her  bench  aside  and  sat  down  near 
her.  Then,  eyeing  Lizzie  as  she  had  previously  eyed 
Bradley  and  the  door.  Miss  Wren  chopped  that  very 
sudden  and  keen  chop  in  which  her  jaws  sometimes  in- 
dulged, leaned  back  in  her  chair  with  folded  arms,  and 
thus  expressed  herself: 

Humph!  If  he — I mean,  of  course,  my  dear,  the 
party  who  is  coming  to  court  me  when  the  time  comes — 
should  be  that  sort  of  man,  he  may  spare  himself  the 
trouble.  He  wouldn’t  do  to  be  trotted  about  and  made 
useful.  He’d  take  fire  and  blow  up  while  he  was  about 
it.” 


VOL.  I. 


24 


370 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

And  so  you  would  be  rid  of  him/’  said  Lizzie, 
humouring  her. 

Not  so  easily,”  returned  Miss  Wren.  He  wouldn’t 
blow  up  alone.  He’d  carry  me  up  with  him.  I know 
his  tricks  and  his  manners.” 

Would  he  want  to  hurt  you,  do  you  mean  ? ” asked 
Lizzie. 

‘^Mightn’t  exactly  want  to  do  it,  my  dear,”  returned 
Miss  Wren;  but  a lot  of  gunpowder  among  lighted 
lucifer-matches  in  the  next  room  might  almost  as  well 
be  here.” 

He  is  a very  strange  man,”  said  Lizzie,  thoughtfully. 

I wish  he  was  so  very  strange  a man  as  to  be  a total 
stranger,”  answered  the  sharp  little  thing. 

It  being  Lizzie’s  regular  occupation  when  they  were 
alone  of  an  evening  to  brush  out  and  smooth  the  long 
fair  hair  of  the  doll’s  dressmaker,  she  unfastened  a rib- 
bon that  kept  it  back  while  the  little  creature  was  at 
her  work,  and  it  fell  in  a beautiful  shower  over  the  poor 
shoulders  that  were  much  in  need  of  such  adorning  rain. 

Not  now,  Lizzie  dear,”  said  Jenny;  ^Het  us  have  a 
talk  by  the  fire.”  With  those  words,  she  in  her  turn 
loosened  her  friend’s  dark  hair,  and  it  dropped  of  its 
own  weight  over  her  bosom,  in  two  rich  masses.  Pre- 
tending to  compare  the  colours  and  admire  the  contrast, 
Jenny  so  managed  a mere  touch  or  two  of  her  nimble 
hands,  as  that  she  herself  laying  a cheek  on  one  of  the 
dark  folds,  seemed  blinded  by  her  own  clustering  curls 
to  all  but  the  fire,  while  the  fine  handsome  face  and 
brow  of  Lizzie  were  revealed  without  obstruction  in  the 
sober  light. 

Let  us  have  a talk,”  said  Jenny,  about  Mr.  Eugene 
Wrayburn.” 

Something  sparkled  down  among  the  fair  hair  resting 
on  the  dark  hair ; and  if  it  were  not  a star — which  it 
couldn’t  be — it  was  an  eye  ; and  if  it  were  an  eye,  it 
was  Jenny  Wren’s  eye,  bright  and  watchful  as  the 
bird’s  whose  name  she  had  taken. 

Why  about  Mr.  Wrayburn  ? ” Lizzie  asked. 

‘^For  no  better  reason  than  because  I’m  in  the 
humour.  I wonder  if  he’s  rich  ! ” 

No,  not  rich.” 

^^Poor?” 

I think  so,  for  a gentleman.” 


SOME  AFFAIRS  OF  THE  HEART. 


371 


Ah  ! To  be  sure  ! Yes,  he’s  a gentleman.  Not  of  our 
sort ; is  he  ? ” 

A shake  of  the  head,  a thoughtful  shake  of  the  head, 
and  the  answer,  softly  spoken,  Oh  no,  oh  no  ! ” 

The  dolls’  dressmaker  had  an  arm  round  her  friend’s 
waist.  Adjusting  the  arm,  she  slyly  took  the  oppor- 
tunity of  blowing  at  her  own  hair  where  it  fell  over  her 
face  ; then  the  eye  down  there,  under  lighter  shadows 
sparkled  more  brightly  and  appeared  more  watchful. 

When  He  turns  up,  he  shan’t  be  a gentleman  ; I’ll 
very  soon  send  him  packing,  if  he  is.  However,  he’s 
not  Mr.  Wrayburn  ; I haven’t  captivated  him,  I wonder 
whether  anybody  has,  Lizzie  ! ” 

It  is  very  likely.” 

Is  it  very  likely  ? I wonder  who  !” 

Is  it  not  very  likely  that  some  lady  has  been  taken 
by  him,  and  that  he  may  love  her  dearly  ? ” 

Perhaps.  I don’t  know.  What  would  you  think  of 
him,  Lizzie,  if  you  were  a lady  ? ” 

a lady  ! ” she  repeated,  laughing.  Such  a fancy!  ” 
^Wes.  But  say  ; just  as  a fancy,  and  for  instance.” 
a lady  1 I,  a poor  girl  who  used  to  row  poor  father 
on  the  river.  I,  who  had  rowed  poor  father  out  and 
home  on  the  very  night  when  I saw  him  for  the  first 
time.  I,  who  was  made  so  timid  by  his  looking  at  me, 
that  I got  up  and  went  out ! ” 

(^'He  did  look  at  you,  even  that  night,  though  you 
were  not  a lady  I”  thought  Miss  Wren.) 

I a lady  1 ” Lizzie  went  on  in  a low  voice,  with  her 
eyes  upon  the  fire.  ^'I,  with  poor  father’s  grave  not 
even  cleared  of  undeserved  stain  and  shame,  and  he 
trying  to  clear  it  for  me  ! I a lady  I ” 

''  Only  as  a fancy,  and  for  instance,”  urged  Miss  Wren. 

Too  much,  Jenny,  dear,  too  much  ! My  fancy  is  not 
able  to  get  that  far.”  As  the  low  fire  gleamed  upon  her, 
it  showed  her  smiling,  mournfully  and  abstractedly. 

But  I am  in  the  humour,  and  I must  be  humoured, 
Lizzie,  because  after  all  I am  a poor  little  thing,  and 
have  had  a hard  day  with  my  bad  child.  Look  in  the 
fire,  as  I like  to  hear  you  tell  how  you  used  to  do  when 
you  lived  in  that  dreary  old  house  that  had  once  been 
a windmill.  Look  in  the — what  was  its  name  when  you 
told  fortunes  with  your  brother  that  I dorCt  like  ?” 

The  hollow  down  by  the  flare  ?” 


372 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Ah!  That’s  the  name!  You  can  find  a lady  there,  I 
know.” 

More  easily  than  I can  make  one  of  such  material  as 
myself,  Jenny.” 

The  sparkling  eye  looked  steadfastly  up,  as  the  musing 
face  looked  thoughtfully  down.  Well  ?”  said  the  doll’s 
dressmaker,  We  have  found  our  lady  ?” 

Lizzie  nodded,  and  asked,  Shall  she  be  rich  ?” 

She  had  better  be,  as  he’s  poor.” 

She  is  very  rich.  Shall  she  be  handsome  ?” 

^^Even  you  can  be  that,  Lizzie,  so  she  ought  to  be.” 

She  is  very  handsome.” 

What  does  she  say  about  him  ?”  asked  Miss  Jenny, 
in  a low  voice:  watchful,  through  an  intervening  silence, 
of  the  face  looking  down  at  the  fire. 

She  is  glad,  glad  to  be  rich,  that  he  may  have  the 
money.  She  is  glad,  glad  to  be  beautiful,  that  he  may 
be  proud  of  her.  Her  poor  heart ” 

''  Eh  ? Her  poor  heart  ?”  said  Miss  Wren. 

Her  heart — is  given  him,  with  all  its  love  and  truth. 
She  would  joyfully  die  with  him,  or  better  than  that, 
die  for  him.  She  knows  he  has  failings,  but  she  thinks 
they  have  grown  up  through  his  being  like  one  cast 
away,  for  the  want  of  something  to  trust  in,  and  care 
for,  and  think  well  of.  And  she  says,  that  lady  rich 
and  beautiful  that  I can  never  come  near,  ^Only  put  me 
in  that  empty  place,  only  try  how  little  I mind  myself, 
only  prove  what  a world  of  things  I will  do  and  bear 
for  you,  and  I hope  that  you  might  even  come  to  be 
much  better  than  you  are,  through  me  who  am  so  much 
worse,  and  hardly  worth  the  thinking  of  beside  you.’” 

As  the  face  looking  at  the  fire  had  become  exalted  and 
forgetful  in  the  rapture  of  these  words,  the  little  crea- 
ture, openly  clearing  away  her  fair  hair  with  her  dis- 
engaged hand,  had  gazed  at  it  with  earnest  attention 
and  something  like  alarm.  Now  that  the  speaker  ceased, 
the  little  creature  laid  down  her  head  again,  and 
moaned,  '‘O  me,  O me,  O me!” 

‘Hn  pain,  dear  Jenny?”  asked  Lizzie,  as  if  awak- 
ened. 

'Wes,  but  not  the  old  pain.  Lay  me  down,  lay  me 
down.  Don’t  go  out  of  my  sight  to-night.  Lock  the 
door  and  keep  close  to  me.”  Then  turning  away  her 
face,  she  said  in  a whisper  to  herself,  "My  Lizzie,  my 


MORE  BIRDS  OF  PREY. 


373 


poor  Lizzie  ! O my  blessed  children^  come  back  in  the 
long  bright  slanting  rows,  and  come  for  her,  not  me. 
She  wants  help  more  than  I,  my  blessed  children!” 

She  had  stretched  her  hands  up  with  that  higher  and 
better  look,  and  now  she  turned  again,  and  folded 
them  round  Lizzie’s  neck,  and  rocked  herself  on  Lizzie’s 
breast. 


CHAPTER  XIL  , ^ 

MORE  BIRDS  OF  PREY. 

Rogue  RIDERHOOD  dwelt  deep  and  dark  in  Lime- 
house  Hole,  among  the  riggers,  and  the  mast,  oar, 
and  block-makers,  and  the  boat-builders,  and  the  sail- 
lofts,  as  in  a kind  of  ship’s  hold  stored  full  of  waterside 
characters,  some  no  better  than  himself,  some  very 
much  better,  and  none  much  worse.  The  Hole,  albeit 
in  a general  way  not  over  nice  in  its  choice  of  company, 
was  rather  shy  in  reference  to  the  honour  of  cultivating 
the  Rogue’s  acquaintance;  more  frequently  giving  him 
the  cold  shoulder  than  the  warm  hand,  and  seldom  or 
never  drinking  with  him  unless  at  his  own  expense. 
A part  of  the  Hole,  indeed,  contained  so  much  public 
spirit  and  private  virtue  that  not  even  this  strong  lever- 
age could  move  it  to  good  fellowship  with  a tainted 
accuser.  But,  there  may  have  been  the  drawback  on 
this  magnanimous  moralitj^,  that  its  exponents  held  a 
true  witness  before  Justice  to  be  the  next  unneigh- 
bourly  and  accursed  character  to  a false  one. 

Had  it  not  been  for  the  daughter  whom  he  often 
mentioned,  Mr.  Riderhood  might  have  found  the  Hole 
a mere  grave  as  to  any  means  it  would  yield  him  of 
getting  a living.  But  Miss  Pleasant  Riderhood  had 
some  little  position  and  connection  in  Limehouse  Hole. 
Upon  the  smallest  of  small  scales  she  was  an  un- 
licensed pawnbroker,  keeping  what  was  popularly 
called  a Leaving  Shop,  by  lending  insignificant  sums  on 
insignificant  articles  of  property  deposited  with  her 
as  security.  In  her  four-and-twentieth  year  of  life. 
Pleasant  was  already  in  her  fifth  year  of  this  way  of 


374 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


trade.  Her  deceased  mother  had  established  the 
business,  and  on  that  parent’s  demise  she  had  appro- 
priated a secret  capital  of  fifteen  shillings  to  estab- 
lishing herself  in  it  ; the  existence  of  such  capital  in  a 
pillow  being  the  last  intelligible  confidential  com- 
munication made  to  her  by  the  departed,  before  suc- 
cumbing to  dropsical  conditions  of  snuff  and  gin,  in- 
compatible equally  with  coherence  and  existence. 

Why  christened  Pleasant,  the  late  Mrs.  Riderhood 
might  possibly  have  been  at  some  time  able  to  explain, 
and  possibly  not.  Her  daughter  had  no  inf ormation  on 
that  point.  Pleasant  she  found  herself,  and  she 
couldn’t  help  it.  She  had  not  been  consulted  on  the 
question,  any  more  than  on  the  question  of  her  coming 
into  these  terrestrial  parts,  to  want  a name.  Similarly 
she  found  herself  possessed  of  what  is  colloquially 
termed  a swivel  eye  (derived  from  her  father),  which 
she  might  perhaps  have  declined  if  her  sentiments  on 
the  subject  had  been  taken.  She  was  not  otherwise 
positively  ill-looking,  though  anxious,  meagre,  of  a 
muddy  complexion,  and  looking  as  old  again  as  she 
really  was. 

As  some  dogs  have  it  in  the  blood,  or  are  trained,  to 
worry  certain  creatures  to  a certain  point,  so — not  to 
make  the  comparison  disrespectfully — Pleasant  Rider- 
hood  had  it  in  the  blood,  or  had  been  trained,  to  regard 
seamen,  within  certain  limits,  as  her  prey.  Show  her 
a man  in  a blue  jacket,  and,  figuratively  speaking,  she 
pinned  him  instantly.  Yet,  all  things  considered,  she 
was  not  of  an  evil  mind  or  an  unkindly  disposition. 
For,  observe  how  many  things  were  to  be  considered 
according  to  her  own  unfortunate  experience.  Show 
Pleasant  Riderhood  a Wedding  in  the  street,  and  she 
only  saw  two  persons  taking  out  a regular  license  to 
quarrel  and  fight.  Show  her  a Christening,  and  she 
saw  a little  heathen  personage  having  a quite  super- 
fiuous  name  bestowed  upon  it,  inasmuch  as  it  would  be 
commonly  addressed  by  some  abusive  epithet  : which 
little  personage  was  not  in  the  least  wanted  by  anybody, 
and  would  be  shoved  and  banged  out  of  everybody’s 
way,  until  it  should  grow  big  enough  to  shove  and 
bang.  Show  her  a funeral,  and  she  saw  an  unremuner- 
ative  ceremony  in  the  nature  of  a black  masquerade, 
conferring  a temporary  gentility  on  the  performers,  at 


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375 


an  immense  expense,  and  representing  the  only  formal 
party  ever  given  by  the  deceased.  Show  her  a live 
father,  and  she  saw"  but  a duplicate  of  her  own  father, 
who  from  her  infancy  had  been  taken  with  fits  and 
starts  of  discharging  his  duty  to  her,  which  duty  was 
always  incorporated  in  the  form  of  a fist  or  a leather 
strap,  and  being  discharged  hurt  her.  All  things  con- 
sidered, therefore.  Pleasant  Riderhood  was  not  so  very, 
very  bad.  There  was  even  a touch  of  romance  in  her 
— of  such  romance  as  could  creep  into  Limehouse  Hole 
— and  maybe  sometimes  of  a summer  evening,  when 
she  stood  with  folded  arms  at  her  shop-door,  looking 
from  the  reeking  street  to  the  sky  where  the  sun  was 
setting,  she  may  have  had  some  vaporous  visions  of 
far-off  islands  in  the  southern  seas  or  elsewhere  (not 
being  geographically  particular),  where  it  would  be 
good  to  roam  with  a congenial  partner  among  groves  of 
bread-fruit,  waiting  for  ships  to  be  wafted  from  the 
hollow  ports  of  civilization.  For,  sailors  to  be  got  the 
better  of  were  essential  to  Miss  Pleasant’s  Eden. 

Rot  on  a summer  evening  did  she  come  to  her  little 
shop-door,  when  a certain  man  standing  over  against 
the  house  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street  took  notice 
of  her.  That  was  on  a cold,  shrewd,  windy  evening 
after  dark.  Pleasant  Riderhood  shared  with  most  of 
the  lady  inhabitants  of  the  Hole,  the  peculiarity  that 
her  hair  was  a ragged  knot,  constantly  coming  down 
behind,  and  that  she  never  could  enter  upon  any  under- 
taking without  first  twisting  it  into  place.  At  that  par- 
ticular moment,  being  newly  come  to  the  threshold  to 
take  a look  out  of  doors,  she  was  winding  herself  up 
with  both  hands  after  this  fashion.  And  so  prevalent 
was  the  fashion,  that  on  the  occasion  of  a fight  or  other 
disturbance  in  the  Hole,  the  ladies  would  be  seen  flock- 
ing from  all  quarters  universally  twisting  their  back- 
hair  as  they  came  along,  and  mhny  of  them,  in  the 
hurry  of  the  moment,  carrying  their  back-combs  in 
their  mouths. 

It  was  a wretched  little  shop,  with  a roof  that  any 
man  standing  in  it  could  touch  with  his  hand ; little 
better  than  a cellar  or  cave,  down  three  steps.  Yet  in 
its  ill-lighted  window,  among  a flaring  handkerchief  or 
two,  an  old  pea-coak  or  so,  a few  valueless  watches  and 
compasses,  a jar  of  tobacco  and  two  crossed  pipes,  a 


37C  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


bottle  of  walnut  ketchup,  and  some  horrible  sweets — 
these  creature  discomforts  serving  as  a blind  to  the 
mam  business  of  the  Leaving  Shop— was  displayed  the 
inscription,  Seaman’s  Boarding  House. 

Taking  notice  of  Pleasant  Riderhood  at  the  door,  the 
man  crossed  so  quickly  that  she  was  still  winding  her- 
self up,  when  he  stood  close  before  her. 

“ Is  your  father  at  home  ?”  said  he. 

“ I think  he  is,”  returned  Pleasant,  dropping  her 
arms  ; “come  in.” 

It  was  a tentative  reply,  the  man  having  a seafaring 
appearance.  Her  father  was  not  at  home,  and  Pleasant 
knew  it.  ^^Take  a seat  by  the  fire,”  were  her  hospit- 
able words  when  she  had  got  him  in  ; “men  of  your 
calling  are  always  welcome  here.” 

“ Thankee,”  said  the  man. 

His  manner  was  the  manner  of  a sailor,  and  his  hands 
were  the  hands  of  a sailor,  except  that  they  were 
smooth.  Pleasant  had  an  eye  for  sailors,  and  she 
noticed  the  unused  color  and  texture  of  the  hands,  sun- 
burnt though  they  were,  as  sharply  as  she  noticed  their 
unmistakable  looseness  and  suppleness,  as  he  sat  him- 
self down  with  his  left  arm  carelessly  thrown  across  his 
left  leg  a little  above  the  knee,  and  the  right  arm  as 
carelessly  thrown  over  the  elbow  of  the  wooden  chair, 
with  the  hand  curved,  half  open  and  half  shut,  as  if  it 
had  ]ust  let  go  a rope. 

“Might  you  be  looking  for  a Boarding-House?” 
Pleasant  inquired,  taking  her  observant  stand  on  one 
side  of  the  fire. 

“ I don’t  rightly  know  my  plans  yet,”  returned  the 
man. 

“You  ain’t  looking  for  a Leaving-Shop  ?” 

“No,”  said  the  man. 

“ No,”  assented  Pleasant,  “ you’ve  got  too  much  of  an 
outfit  on  you  for  that.  But  if  you  should  want  either, 
this  is  both.” 

“ Ay,  ay !”  said  the  man,  glancing  round  the  place. 
“I  know.  I’ve  been  here  before.” 

“Did  you  Leave  anything  when  you  were  here  be- 
fore ?”  asked  Pleasant,  with  a view  to  principal  and 
interest. 

“No.”  The  man  shook  his  head. 

“ I’m  pretty  sure  you  never  boarded  here  ?” 


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377 


The  man  again  shook  his  head. 

What  did  you  do  here  when  you  were  here  be- 
fore ?•”  asked  Pleasant.  ''  For  I don’t  remember  you.” 

It’s  not  at  all  likely  you  should.  I only  stood  at  the 
door,  one  night — on  the  lower  step  there — while  a ship- 
mate of  mine  looked  in  to  speak  to  your  father.  I re- 
member the  place  well.”  Looking  very  curiously  round  it. 

Might  that  have  been  long  ago?  ” ' 

Ay,  a goodish  bit  ago.  When  I came  off  my  last 
voyage.” 

Then  you  have  not  been  to  sea  lately?” 

^‘^No.  Been  in  the  sick  bay  since  then,  and  been  em- 
ployed ashore.” 

^^Then,  to  be  sure,  that  accounts  for  your  hands.” 

The  man  with  a keen  look,  a quick  smile,  and  a change 
of  manner,  caught  her  up.  ^ Wou’re  a good  observer. 
Yes.  That  accounts  for  my  hands.” 

Pleasant  was  somewhat  disquieted  by  his  look,  and 
returned  it  suspiciously.  Not  only  was  his  change  of 
manner,  though  very  sudden,  quite  collected,  but  his 
former  manner,  which  he  resumed,  had  a certain  sup- 
pressed confidence  and  sense  of  power  in  it  that  were 
half  threatening. 

Will  your  father  be  long?”  he  inquired. 

^‘^I  don’t  know.  I can’t  say.” 

As  you  supposed  he  was  at  home,  it  would  seem  that 
he  has  just  gone  out?  How’s  that?” 

^^I  supposed  he  had  come  home,”  Pleasant  explained. 

Oh!  You  supposed  he  had  come  home?  Then  he  has 
been  some  time  out?  How’s  that?  ” 

I don’t  want  to  deceive  you.  Father’s  on  the  river 
in  his  boat.” 

At  the  old  work?”  asked  the  man. 

I don’t  know  what  you  mean,”  said  Pleasant,  shrink- 
ing a step  back.  ''  What  on  earth  do  you  want?  ” 

I don’t  want  to  hurt  your  father.  I don’t  want  to 
say  I might,  if  I chose.  I want  to  speak  to  him.  Not 
much  in  that,  is  there?  There  shall  be  no  secrets  from 
you;  you  shall  be  by.  And  plainly.  Miss  Riderhood, 
there’s  nothing  to  be  got  out  of  me,  or  made  of  me.  I 
am  not  good  for  the  Leaving  Shop,  I am  not  good  for 
the  Boarding-House,  I am  not  good  for  anything  in  your 
way  to  the  extent  of  sixpenn’orth  of  halfpence.  Put  the 
idea  aside,  and  we  shall  get  on  together.” 


378 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


^^But  you’re  a seafaring  man?”  argued  Pleasant,  as 
if  there  were  a sufficient  reason  for  his  being  good  for 
something  in  her  way. 

^'Yes  and  no.  I have  been,- and  I may  be  again. 
But  I am  not  for  you.  Won’t  you  take  my  word  for  it?  ” 

The  conversation  had  arrived  at  a crisis  to  justify 
Miss  Pleasant’s  hair  in  tumbling  down.  It  tumbled 
down  accordingly,  and  she  twisted  it  up,  looking  from 
under  her  bent  forehead  at  the  man.  In  taking  stock 
of  his  familiarly  worn  rough-weather  nautical  clothes, 
piece  by  piece,  she  took  stock  of  a formidable  knife  in 
a sheath  at  his  waist  ready  to  his  hand,  and  of  a whistle 
hanging  round  his  neck,  and  of  a short,  jagged,  knotted 
club  with  a loaded  head  that  peeped  out  of  a pocket  of 
his  loose  outer  jacket  or  frock.  He  sat  quietly  looking 
at  her;  but,  with  these  appendages  partially  revealing 
themselves,  and  with  a quantity  of  bristling  oakum- 
coloured  head  and  whisker,  he  had  a formidable  ap- 
pearance. 

Won’t  you  take  my  word  for  it?”  he  asked  again. 

Pleasant  answered  with  a short  dumb  nod.  He  re- 
joined with  another  short  dumb  nod.  Then  he  got  up 
and  stood  with  his  arms  folded,  in  front  of  the  fire, 
looking  down  into  it  occasionally,  as  she  stood  with  her 
arms  folded,  leaning  against  the  side  of  the  chimney- 
piece. 

To  while  away  the  time  till  your  father  comes,”  he 
said, — pray  is  there  much  robbing  and  murdering  of 
seamen  about  the  water-side  now?” 

No,”  said  Pleasant. 

Any?  ” 

''  Complaints  of  that  sort  are  sometimes  made,  about 
Ratcliff e and  Wapping,»and  up  that  way.  But  who 
knows  how  many  are  true?  ” 

To  be  sure.  And  it  don’t  seem  necessary.” 

That’s  what  I say,”  observed  Pleasant.  ^‘Where’s 
the  reason  for  it?  Bless  the  sailors,  it  ain’t  as  if  they 
ever  could  keep  what  they  have  without  it.” 

‘WouTe  right.  Their  money  may  be  soon  got  out  of 
them  without  violence,”  said  the  man. 

''Of  course  it  may,”  said  Pleasant;  "and  then  they 
ship  again  and  get  more.  And  the  best  thing  for  ’em, 
too,  to  ship  again  as  soon  as  ever  they  can  be  brought 
to  it.  They’re  never  so  well  off  as  when  they’re  afloat.” 


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870 


I’ll  tell  you  why  I ask/’  pursued  the  visitor,  looking 
up  from  the  fire.  ''  I was  once  beset  that  way  rnyself, 
and  left  for  dead. 

No?”  said  Pleasant.  Where  did  it  happen?” 

It  happened/’ returned  the  man,  with  a ruminative 
air,  as  he  drew  his  right  hand  across  his  chin,  and 
dipped  the  other  in  the  pocket  of  his  rough  outer  coat, 
^Ot  happened  somewhere  about  here  as  I reckon.  I 
don’t  think  it  can  have  been  a mile  from  here.” 

^^Were  you  drunk?”  asked  Pleasant. 

I was  muddled,  but  not  with  fair  drinking.  I had 
not  been  drinking,  you  understand.  A mouthful  did 
it.” 

Pleasant,  with  a grave  look,  shook  her  head;  import- 
ing that  she  understood  the  process,  but  decidedly  dis- 
approved. 

‘^Fairtrade  is  one  thing,”  said  she,  ^^but  that’s  an- 
other. No  one  has  a right  to  carry  on  with  Jack  in  that 
way.” 

^‘The  sentiment  does  you  credit,”  returned  the  man, 
with  a grim  smile;  and  added,  in  a mutter,  ^^the  more 
so,  as  I believe  it’s  not  your  father’s. — Yes,  I had  a bad 
time  of  it,  that  time.  I lost  everything,  and  had  a sharp 
struggle  for  my  life,  weak  as  I was.” 

Did  you  get  the  parties  punished?”  asked  Pleasant. 

A tremendous  punishment  followed,”  said  the  man, 
more  seriously;  ^^but  it  was  not  of  my  bringing 
about.” 

''Of  whose,  then?”  asked  Pleasant. 

The  man  pointed  upward  with  his  forefinger,  and, 
slowly  recovering  that  hand,  settled  his  chin  in  it  again 
as  he  looked  at  the  fire.  Bringing  her  inherited  eye  to 
bear  upon  him.  Pleasant  Riderhood  felt  more  and  more 
uncomfortable,  his  manner  was  so  mysterious,  so  stern, 
so  self-possessed. 

"Anyways,”  said  the  damsel,"  I am  glad  punishment 
followed,  and  I say  so.  Fair  trade  with  seafaring  men 
gets  a bad  name  through  deeds  of  violence.  I am  as 
much  against  deeds  of  violence  being  done  to  seafaring 
men,  as  seafaring  men  can  be  themselves.  I am  of  the 
same  opinion  as  my  mother  was  when  she  was  living. 
Pair  trade,  my  mother  used  to  say,  but  no  robbery  and 
no  blows.”  In  the  way  of  trade  Miss  Pleasant  would 
have  taken — and  indeed  did  take  when  she  could — as 


380 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


much  as  thirty  shillings  a week  for  board  that  would  be 
dear  at  five,  and  likewise  conducted  the  Leaving  busi- 
ness upon  correspondingly  equitable  principles;  yet  she 
had  that  tenderness  of  conscience  and  those  feelings  of 
humanity,  that  the  moment  her  ideas  of  trade  were 
overstepped,  she  became  the  seaman’s  champion,  even 
against  her  father  whom  she  seldom  otherwise  re- 
sisted. 

But,  she  was  here  interrupted  by  her  fathers  voice 
exclaiming  angrily,  Now,  Poll  Parrot  !”  and  by  her 
fathers  hat  being  heavily  fiung  from  his  hand  and 
striking  her  face.  Accustomed  to  such  occasional  man- 
ifestations of  his  sense  of  parental  duty.  Pleasant 
merely  wiped  her  face  on  her  hair  (which  of  course 
had  tumbled  down)  before  she  twisted  it  up.  This  was 
another  common  procedure  on  the  part  of  the  ladies  of 
the  Hole,  when  heated  by  verbal  or  fistic  altercation. 

Blest  if  I believe  such  a Poll  Parrot  as  you  was  ever 
learned  to  speak  ! ” growled  Mr.  Riderhood,  stooping  to 
pick  up  his  hat,  and  making  a feint  at  her  with  his  head 
and  right  elbow  ; for  he  took  the  delicate  subject  of 
robbing  seaman  in  extraordinary  dudgeon,  and  was  out 
of  humour  too.  What  are  you  Poll  Parroting  at  now? 
Ain’t  you  got  nothing  to  do  but  fold  your  arms  and 
stand  a Poll  Parroting  all  night  ? ” 

‘^^Let  her  alone,”  urged  the  man.  ^‘  She  was  only 
speaking  to  me.” 

Let  her  alone,  too!  ” retorted  Mr.  Riderhood,  eyeing 
him  all  over.  Do  you  know  she’s  my  daughter?” 
Yes,” 

And  don’t  you  know  that  I won’t  have  no  Poll  Par- 
roting on  the  part  of  my  daughter?  No,  nor  yet  that  I 
won’t  take  no  Poll  Parroting  from  no  man?  And  who 
msiy  you  be,  and  what  may  you  want?  ” 

How  can  I tell  you  until  you  are  silent  ?”  returned 
the  other  fiercely. 

''Well,”  said  Mr.  Riderhood,  quailing  a little,  "I  am 
willing  to  be  silent  for  the  purpose  of  hearing.  But 
don’t  Poll  Parrot  me.” 

" Are  you  thirsty,  you  ?”  the  man  asked,  in  the  same 
fierce  short  way,  after  returning  his  look. 

" Why  nat’ rally,”  said  Mr.  Riderhood,  ain’t  I always 
thirsty  ? ” (Indignant  at  the  absurdity  of  the  ques- 
tion.) 


MORE  BIRDS  OF  PREY. 


381 


What  will  you  drink  ? ” demanded  the  man. 

Sherry  wine/’  returned  Mr.  Riderhood,  in  the  same 
sharp  tone,  if  you’re  capable  of  it.” 

The  man  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket,  took  out  half  a 
sovereign,  and  begged  the  favour  of  Miss  Pleasant  that 
she  would  fetch  a bottle.  '^With  the  cork  undrawn,” 
he  added,  emphatically,  looking  at  her  father. 

‘^ril  take  my  Alfred  David,”  muttered  Mr.  Rider- 
hood,  slowly  relaxing  into  a dark  smile,  ‘“^that  you 
know  a move.  Do  I know  you  ? N — n — no,  I don’t 
know  you.” 

The  man  replied,  ''No,  you  don’t  know  me.”  And  so 
they  stood  looking  at  one  another  surlily  enough  until 
Pleasant  came  back. 

"There’s  small  glasses  on  the  shelf,”  said  Riderhood 
to  his  daughter.  " Give  me  the  one  without  a foot.  I 
gets  my  living  by  the  sweat  of  my  brow,  and  it’s  good 
enough  for  me,'^  This  had  a modest  self-denying  ap- 
pearance ; but  it  soon  turned  out  that  as,  by  reason  of 
the  impossibility  of  standing  the  glass  upright  while 
there  was  anything  in  it,  it  required  to  be  emptied  as 
soon  as  filled,  Mr.  Riderhood  managed  to  drink  in  the 
proportion  of  three  to  one. 

With  his  Fortunatus’s  goblet  ready  in  his  hand,  Mr, 
Riderhood  sat  down  on  one  side  of  the  table  before  the 
fire,  and  the  strange  man  on  the  other:  Pleasant  occupy- 
ing a stool  between  the  latter  and  the  fireside.  The 
background,  composed  of  handkerchiefs,  coats,  shirts, 
hats,  and  other  old  articles  " On  Leaving,”  had  a general 
dim  resemblance  to  human  listeners  ; especially  where 
a shiny  black  sou’-wester  suit  and  hat  hung,  looking 
very  like  a clumsy  mariner  with  his  back  to  the  com- 
pany, who  was  so  curious  to  overhear,  that  he  paused 
for  the  purpose  with  his  coat  half  pulled  on,  and 
his  shoulders  up  to  his  ears  in  the  uncompleted 
action. 

The  visitor  first  held  the  bottle  against  the  light  of 
the  candle,  and  next  examined  the  top  of  the  cork. 
Satisfied  that  it  had  not  been  tampered  with,  he  slowly 
took  from  his  breastpocket  a rusty  clasp-knife,  and  with 
a corkscrew  in  the  handle,  opened  the  wine.  That  done, 
he  looked  at  the  cork,  unscrewed  it  from  the  corkscrew, 
laid  each  separately  on  the  table,  and,  with  the  end  of 
the  sailor’s  knot  of  his  neckerchief,  dusted  the  inside 


382 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


of  the  neck  of  the  bottle.  All  this  with  great 
deliberation. 

At  first  Riderhood  had  sat  with  his  footless  glass 
extended  at  arm’s  length  for  filling,  while  the  very 
deliberate  stranger  seemed  absorbed  in  his  preparations. 
But,  gradually  his  arm  reverted  home  to  him,  and  his 
glass  was  lowered  and  lowered  until  he  rested  it  upside 
down  upon  the  table.  By  the  same  degrees  his  atten- 
tion became  concentrated  on  the  knife.  And  now,  as 
the  man  held  out  the  bottle  to  fill  all  round,  Riderhood 
stood  up,  leaned  over  the  table  to  look  closer  at  the 
knife,  and  stared  from  it  to  him. 

What’s  the  matter  ?”  asked  the  man. 

Why,  I know  that  knife  ! ” said  Riderhood. 

^Wes,  I dare  say  you  do.” 

He  motioned  to  him  to  hold  up  his  glass,  and  filled  it. 
Riderhood  emptied  it  to  the  last  drop  and  began  again. 

That  there  knife ” 

Stop,”  said  the  man,  composedly.  ""I  was  going  to 
drink  to  your  daughter.  Your  health.  Miss  Riderhood.” 

That  knife  was  the  knife  of  a seaman  named  George 
Radfoot.” 

It  was.” 

• That  seaman  was  well  beknown  to  me.” 

He  was.” 

What’s  come  to  him  ? ” 

Death  has  come  to  him.  Death  came  to  him  in  an 
ugly  shape.  He  looked,”  said  the  man,  ‘Wery  horrible 
after  it.” 

Arter  what  ? ” said  Riderhood,  with  a frowning  stare. 

After  he  was  killed.” 

Killed  ? Who  killed  him  ?” 

Only  answering  with  a shrug,  the  man  filled  the  foot- 
less glass,  and  Riderhood  emptied  it : looking  amazedly 
from  his  daughter  to  his  visitor. 

^Wou  don’t  mean  to  tell  a honest  man” — he  was 
recommencing  with  his  empty  glass  in  his  hand,  when 
his  eye  became  fascinated  by  the  stranger’s  outer  coat. 
He  leaned  across  the  table  to  see  it  nearer,  touched  the 
sleeve,  turned  the  cuff  to  look  at  the  sleeve-lining  (the 
man,  in  his  perfect  composure,  offering  not  the  least 
objection),  and  exclaimed,  ''It’s  my  belief  as  this  here 
coat  was  George  Radfoot’s  too.  ! ” 

"You  are  right.  He  wore  it  the  last  time  you  ever 


MORE  BIRDS  OF  PREY.  383 

saw  him,  and  the  last  time  you  ever  will  see  him — in  this 
world. 

''IPs  my  belief  you  mean  to  tell  me  to  my  face  you 
killed  him  ! ’’  exclaimed  Riderhood  ; but,  nevertheless, 
allowing  his  glass  to  be  filled  again. 

The  man  only  answered  with  another  shrug,  and 
showed  no  symptom  of  confusion. 

" Wish  I may  die  if  I know  what  to  be  up  to  with 
this  chap  ! ” said  Riderhood,  after  staring  at  him,  and 
tossing  his  last  glassful  down  his  throat.  " Let’s  know 
what  to  make  of  you.  Say  something  plain.” 

" I will,”  returned  the  other,  leaning  forward  across 
the  table,  and  speaking  in  a low  impressive  voice. 
" What  a liar  you  are  ! ” 

The  honest  witness  rose,  and  made  as  though  he 
would  fling  his  glass  in  the  man’s  face.  The  man  not 
wincing,  and  merely  shaking  his  forefinger  half  know- 
ingly, half  menacingly,  the  piece  of  honesty  thought 
better  of  it  and  sat  down  again,  putting  the  glass  down 
too. 

"And  when  you  went  to  that  lawyer  yonder  in  the 
Temple  with  that  invented  story,”  said  the  stranger,  in 
an  exasperatingly  comfortable  sort  of  confidence,  " you 
might  have  had  your  strong  suspicions  of  a friend  of 
your  own,  you  know.  I think  you  had,  you  know.” 

" Me  my  suspicions  ? Of  what  friend  ?” 

"Tell  me  again  whose  knife  was  this  ?”  demanded 
the  man. 

" It  was  possessed  by,  and  was  the  property  of — him 
as  I have  made  mention  on,”  said  Riderhood,  stupidly 
evading  the  actual  mention  of  the  name. 

" Tell  me  again  whoso  coat  was  this  ?” 

" That  there  article  of  clothing  likeways  belonged  to, 
and  was  wore  by — him  as  I have  made  mention  on,” 
was  again  the  dull  Old  Bailey  evasion. 

"I  suspect  that  you  gave  him  the  credit  of  the  deed, 
and  of  keeping  cleverly  out  of  the  way.  But  there  was 
small  cleverness  in  his  keeping  out  of  the  way.  The 
cleverness  would  have  been,  to  have  got  back  for  one 
single  instant  to  the  light  of  the  sun.” 

" Things  is  come  to  a pretty  pass,”  growled  Mr.  Rider- 
hood, rising  to  his  feet,  goaded  to  stand  at  bay,  "when 
bullyers  as  in  wearing  dead  men’s  clothes,  and  bullyers 
as  is  armed  vfith  dead  men’s  knives,  is  to  come  into  the 


384 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


houses  of  honest  live  men,  getting  their  livings  by  the 
sweats  of  their  brows,  and  is  to  make  these  here  sort  of 
charges  vdth  no  rhyme  and  no  reason,  neither  the  one 
not*  yet  the  other  ! Why  should  I have  had  my  sus- 
picions of  him  ? ’’ 

/^Because  you  knew  him,’’ replied  the  man;  be- 
cause you  had  been  one  with  him,  and  knew  his  real 
character  under  a fair  outside ; because  on  the  night 
which  you  had  afterwards  reason  to  believe  to  be  the 
very  night  of  the  murder,  he  came  in  here,  within  an 
hour  of  his  having  left  his  ship  in  the  docks,  and  asked 
you  in  what  lodgings  he  could  find  room.  Was  there 
no  stranger  with  him  ? ” 

I’ll  take  my  world- without-end  everlasting  Alfred 
David  that  you  warn’t  with  him,”  answered  Riderhood. 
'Won  talk  big,  you  do,  but  things  look  pretty  black 
against  yourself,  to  my  thinking.  You  charge  again’ 
me  that  George  Radfoot  got  lost  sight  of,  and  was  no 
more  thought  of.  What’s  that  for  a sailor  ? Why  there’s 
fifty  such,  out  of  sight  and  out  of  mind,  ten  times  as 
long  as  him — through  entering  in  different  names,  re- 
shipping when  the  out’ard  voyage  is  made,  and  what 
not — a turning  up  to  light  every  day  about  here,  and  no 
matter  made  of  it.  Ask  my  daughter.  You  could  go 
on  Poll  Parroting  enough  v\^ith  her,  when  I warn’t  come 
in:  Poll  Parrot  a little  with  her  on  this  pint.  You  and 
your  suspicions  of  my  suspicions  of  him  ! What  are  my 
suspicions  of  you  ? You  tell  me  George  Radfoot  got 
killed.  I ask  you  who  done  it,  and  how  jon  know  it  ? 
You  carry  his  knife  and  you  wear  his  coat.  I ask  you 
how  you  come  by  ’em  ? Hand  over  that  there  bottle  !” 
Here  Mr.  Riderhood  appeared  to  labour  under  a virtuous 
delusion  that  it  was  his  own  property.  And  you,”  he 
added,  turning  to  his  daughter,  as  he  filled  the  footless 
glass,  ^Gf  it  warn’t  wasting  good  sherry  wine  on  you, 
I’d  chuck  this  at  you,  for  Poll  Parroting  with  this  man. 
It’s  along  of  Poll  Parroting  that  such  like  as  him  gets 
their  suspicions,  whereas  I gets  mine  by  argueyment, 
and  being  nat’rally  a honest  man,  and  sweating  away 
at  the  brow  as  a honest  man  ought.”  Here  he  filled 
the  footless  goblet  again,  and  stood  chewing  one  half  of 
its  contents  and  looking  down  into  the  other  as  he 
slowly  rolled  the  wine  about  in  the  glass;  while  Pleasant, 
whose  sympathetic  hair  had  come  down  on  her  being 


MORE  BIRDS  OF  PREY 


385 


apostrophized,  rearranged  it,  much  in  the  style  of  the 
tail  of  a horse  when  proceeding  to  market  to  be  sold. 

''Well?  Have  you  finished?”  asked  the  strange 
man. 

" No,”  said  Riderhood,  " I ain’t.  Far  from  it.  Now 
then  ! I want  to  know  how  George  Radfoot  come  by  his 
death,  and  how  you  come  by  his  kit  ? ” 

" If  you  ever  do  know,  you  won’t  know  now.” 

"And  next  I want  to  know,”  proceeded  Riderhood, 
" whether  you  mean  to  charge  that  what-you-may-call- 
it  murder ” 

"Harmon  murder,  father,”  suggested  Pleasant. 

"No  Poll  Parroting!”  he  vociferated  in  return. 
"Keep  your  mouth  shut!  — I want  to  know,  you  sir, 
whether  you  charge  that  there  crime  on  George  Rad- 
foot ? ” 

"If  you  ever  do  know,  you  won’t  know  now.” 

"Perhaps  you  done  it  yourself?”  said  Riderhood, 
with  a threatening  action. 

" I alone  know,”  returned  the  man,  sternly  shaking 
his  head,  "the  m3^steries  of  that  crime.  I alone  know 
that  your  trumped-up  story  cannot  possibly  be  true.  I 
alone  know  that  it  must  be  altogether  false,  and  that 
you  must  know  it  to  be  altogether  false.  I come  here 
to-night  to  tell  you  so  much  of  what  I know,  and  no 
more.” 

Mr.  Riderhood,  with  his  crooked  eye  upon  his  visitor, 
meditated  for  some  moments,  and  then  refilled  his  glass, 
and  tipped  the  contents  down  his  throat  in  three  tips. 

" Shut  the  shop-door  ! ” he  then  said  to  his  daughter, 
putting  the  glass  suddenly  down.  " And  turn  the  key 
and  stand  by  it  ! If  you  know  all  this,  you  sir,”  get- 
ting, as  he  spoke,  between  the  visitor  and  the  door, 
" why  ha’n’t  you  gone  to  Lawyer  Lightwood  ? ” 

" That,  also,  is  alone  kncrwn  to  myself,”  was  the  cool 
answer. 

"Don’t  you  know  that,  if  you  didn’t  do  the  deed, 
what  you  say  you  could  tell  is  worth  from  five  to  ten 
thousand  pound  ? ” asked  Riderhood. 

" I know  it  very  well,  and  when  I claim  the  money 
you  shall  share  it.” 

The  honest  man  paused,  and  drew  a little  nearer  to 
the  visitor,  and  a little  further  from  the  door. 

"I  know  it,’'  repeated  the  man,  quietly,  "as  well  as 
VOL.  I.  25 


386 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


I know  that  you  and  George  Radfoot  were  one  together 
in  more  than  one  dark  business;  and  as  well  as  I know 
that  you,  Roger  Riderhood,  conspired  against  an  innocent 
man  for  blood-money;  and  as  well  as  I know  that  I can 
—and  that  I swear  I will  !— give  you  up  on  both  scores, 
and  be  the  proof  against  you  in  my  own  person,  it  you 
d-Gfv  niG  ! 

“Father!”  cried  Pleasant  from  the  door.  “Don’t 
defy  him!  Give  way  to  him!  Don’t  get  into  more 

trouble,  father  !”  , ^ t i ojj 

“Will  you  leave  otf  a Poll  Parroting,  I ask  you  i 
cried  Mr.  Riderhood,  half  beside  himself  between  the 
two.  Then,  propitiatingly  and  crawlingly : “You 
sir  ' You  ha’n’t  said  what  you  want  of  me.  Is  it  tair, 
is  it  worthy  of  yourself,  to  talk  of  my  defying  you  afore 
ever  you  say  what  you  want  of  me  ?” 

“ I don’t  want  much,”  said  the  man.  “ This  accusa- 
tion of  yours  must  not  be  left  half  made  and  half  un- 
made. What  was  done  for  the  blood-money  must  be 
thoroughly  undone.” 

“ Well ; but  Shipmate 


“ Don’t  call  me  Shipmate,”  said  the  man. 

“Captain,  then,”  urged  Mr.  Riderhood;  “there. 
You  won’t  object  to  Captain.  It’s  a honourable  title 
and  you  fully  look  it.  Captain  ! Ain’t  the  man  dead  ? 
Now,  I ask  you  fair.  Ain’t  Gaffer  dead  ?” 

“Well,”  returned  the  other,  with  impatience,  yes, 

he  is  dead.  What  then  ? ” ^ • o t i i 

“ Can  words  hurt  a dead  man.  Captain  i i only  asK 

you  fair.”  „ , i j 4.1 

“ They  can  hurt  the  memory  of  a dead  man,  and  tney 
can  hurt  his  living  children.  How  many  children  had 
this  man  ? ” 

“ Meaning  Gaffer,  Captain  ? 

“Of  whom  else  are  we  speaking?  returned  tlie 
other,  with  a movement  of  his  foot,  as  if  Rogue  Ridei- 
hood  were  beginning  to  sneak  before  him  in  the  body 
as  well  as  the  spirit,  and  he  spurned  him  off.  “ I have^ 
heard  of  a daughter  and  a son.  I ask  for  information  ; , 
I ask  your  daughter  ; I prefer  to  speak  to  her.  What 
children  did  Hexam  leave  ?”  . . 

Pleasant,  looking  to  her  father  for  perniission  to  I 
j.0ply  ^ that  honest  man  exclaimed  with  great  bitterness  : | 
Why  the  devil  don’t  you  answer  the  Captain  ? You  | 


MORE  BIRDS  OF  PREY.  387 

can  Poll  Parrot  enough  when  you  ain’t  wanted  to  Poll 
Parrot,  you  perwerse  jade  ! ” 

Thus  encouraged,  Pleasant  explained  that  there  were 
only  Lizzie,  the  daughter  in  question,  and  the  youth. 
Both  very  respectable,  she  added. 

'^It  is  dreadful  that  any  stigma  should  attach  to 
them,”  said  the  visitor,  whom  the  consideration  ren- 
dered so  uneasy  that  he  rose,  paced  to  and  fro,  mutter- 
ing, Dreadful ! Unforeseen  ? How  could  it  be  fore- 
seen?” Then  he  stopped,  and  asked  aloud,  Where 
do  they  live  ? ” 

Pleasant  further  explained  that  only  the  daughter 
had  resided  with  the  father  at  the  time  of  his  accidental 
death,  and  that  she  had  immediately  afterwards  quitted 
the  neighbourhood. 

I know  that,”  said  the  man,  for  I have  been  to  the 
place  they  dwelt  in,  at  the  time  of  the  inquest.  Could 
you  quietly  find  out  for  me  where  she  lives  now  ? ” 
Pleasant  had  no  doubt  she  could  do  that.  Within 
what  time,  did  she  think  ? Within  a day.  The  visitor 
said  that  was  well,  and  he  would  return  for  the  inform- 
ation, relying  on  its  being  obtained.  To  this  dialogue 
Riderhood  had  attended  in  silence,  and  he  now  obse- 
quiously bespake  the  Captain. 

'^Captain!  Mentioning  them  unfort’net  words  of  mine 
respecting  Gaffer,  it  is  contrairly  to  be  bore  in  mind 
that  Gaffer  always  were  a precious  rascal,  and  that  his 
line  were  a thieving  line.  Likeways  when  I went  to 
them  two  Governors,  Lawyer  Lightwood  and  the  t’other 
Governor,  with  my  information,  I may  have  been  a little 
over-eager  for  the  cause  of  justice,  or  (to  put  it  another 
way)  a little  over-stimilated  by  them  feelings  which 
rouses  a man  up,  when  a pot  of  money  is  going  about, 
to  get  his  hand  into  that  pot  of  money  for  his  family’s 
sake.  Besides  which,  I think  the  wine  of  them  two 
Governors  was — I will  not  say  a hocussed  wine,  but  fur 
from  a wine  as  was  elthy  for  the  mind.  And  ther’s 
another  thing  to  be  remembered.  Captain.  Did  I stick 
to  them  words  when  Gaffer  was  no  more,  and  did  I say 
bold  to  them  two  Governors,  ^ Governors  both,  wot  I in- 
formed I still  inform;  wot  was  took  down  I hold  to’  ? 
No.  I says,  frank  and  open — no  shuffling,  mind  you. 
Captain! — ^ I may  have  been  mistook,  I’ve  been  a think- 
ing of  it,  it  mayn’t  have  been  took  down  correct  on  this 


388 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


and  that,  and  I won’t  swear  to  thick  and  thin,  I’d  rayther 
forfeit  your  good  opinions  than  do  it.’  And  so  far  as 
I know,”  concluded  Mr.  Riderhood,  byway  of  proof  and 
evidence  to.  character,  ‘‘lhave  actiwally  forfeited  the 
good  opinions  of  several  persons — even  your  own. 
Captain,  if  I understand  your  words — but  I’d  sooner 
do  it  than  be  forswore.  There  ! if  that’s  conspiracy, 
call  me  conspirator.” 

''You  shall  sign,”  said  the  visitor,  taking  very  little 
heed  of  this  oration,  "a  statement  that  it  was  all 
utterly  false,  and  the  poor  girl  shall  have  it.  I will 
bring  it  with  me  for  your  signature  when  I come 
again.” 

"When  might  you  be  expected.  Captain?”  inquired 
Riderhood,  again  dubiously  getting  between  him  and 
the  door. 

"Quite  soon  enough  for  you.  I shall  not  disappoint 
you;  don’t  be  afraid.” 

" Might  you  be  inclined  to  leave  any  name.  Captain?” 

"No,  not  at  all.  I have  no  such  intention.” 

" 'Shall’  is  summ’at  of  a hard  word.  Captain,”  urged 
Riderhood,  still  feebly  dodging  between  him  and  the 
door,  as  he  advanced.  "When  you  say  a man  'shall’ 
sign  this  and  that  and  t’other.  Captain,  you  order  him 
about  in  a grand  sort  of  wav.  Don’t  it  seem  so  to  your- 
self?” 

The  man  stood  still, and  angrily  fixed  him  with  his  eyes. 

"Father,  father  !”  entreated  Pleasant,  from  the  door, 
with  her  disengaged  hand  nervously  trembling  at  her 
lips;  "don’t!  Don’t  get  into  trouble  any  more!  ” 

" Hear  me  out.  Captain,  hear  me  out  ! All  I was 
wishing  to  mention.  Captain,  afore  you  took  your  de- 
parter,”  said  the  sneaking  Mr.  Riderhood,  falling  out  of 
his  path,  " was,  your  handsome  words  relating  to  the 
reward.” 

"When  I claim  it,”  said  the  man  in  a tone  which 
seemed  to  leave  some  such  words  as  "you  dog,”  very 
distinctly  understood,  "you  shall  share  it.” 

Looking  steadfastly  at  Riderhood,  he  once  more  said 
in  a low  voice,  this  time  with  a grim  sort  of  admiration 
o£.  him  as  a perfect  piece  of  evil,  "What  a liar  you  are!” 
and,  nodding  his  head  twice  or  thrice  over  the  compli- 
ment, passed  out  of  the  shop.  But,  to  Pleasant  he  said 
good-night  kindly. 


A SOLO  AND  A DUETT. 


389 


The  honest  man  who  gained  his  living  by  the  sweat 
of  his  brow  remained  in  a state  akin  to  stupefaction 
until  the  footless  glass  and  the  unfinished  bottle  con- 
veyed themselves  into  his  mind.  From  his  mind  he 
conveyed  them  into  his  hands,  and  so  conveyed  the  last 
of  the  wine  into  his  stomach.  When  that  was  done,  he 
awoke  to  a clear  perception  that  Poll  Parroting  was 
solely  chargeable  with  what  had  passed.  Therefore, 
not  to  be  remiss  in  his  duty  as  a father,  he  threw  a pair 
of  sea-boots  at  Pleasai^t,  which  she  ducked  to  avoid, 
and  then  cried,  poor  thing,  using  her  hair  for  a pocket- 
handkerchief. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

A SOLO  AND  A DUETT. 

The  wind  was  blowing  so  hard  that  when  the  visitor 
came  out  at  the  shop-door  into  the  darkness  and 
dirt  of  Limehouse  Hole,  that  it  almost  blew  him  in 
again.  Doors  were  slamming  violently,  lamps  were 
flickering  or  blown  out,  signs  were  rocking  in  their 
frames,  the  water  of  the  kennels,  wind-dispersed,  flew 
about  in  drops  like  rain.  Indifferent  to  the  weather, 
and  even  preferring  it  to  better  weather  for  its  clear- 
ance of  the  streets,  the  man  looked  about  him  with  a 
scrutinising  glance.  ^^Thus  much  I know,’’  he  mur- 
mured. I have  never  been  here  since  that  night,  and 
never  was  here  before  that  night,  but  thus  much  I re- 
cognise. I wonder  which  way  did  we  take  when  we 
came  out  of  that  shop.  W e turned  to  the  right  as  I have 
turned,  but  I can  recall  no  more.  Did  we  go  by  this 
alley?  Or  down  that  little  lane?” 

He  tried  both,  but  both  confused  him  equally,  and  he 
came  straying  back  to  the  same  spot.  ''I  remember 
there  were  poles  pushed  out  of  upper  windows  on  which 
clothes  were  drying,  and  I remember  a low  public- 
house,  and  the  sound  flowing  down  a narrow  passage 
belonging  to  it,  of  the  scraping  of  a fiddle  and  the  shuf- 
fling of  feet.  But  here  are  all  these  things  in  the  lane. 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


.3f)0 

and  here  are  all  these  things  in  the  alley.  And  I have 
nothing  else  in  my  mind  but  a wall,  a dark  doorway,  a 
flight  of  stairs,  and  a room.”  . 

He  tried  a new  direction,  but  made  nothing  of  it; 
walls,  dark  doorways,  flights  of  stairs  and  rooms,  were 
too  abundant.  And,  like  most  people  so  puzzled,  he 
again  and  again  described  a circle,  and  found  himself 
at  the  point  from  which  he  had  begun.  “ This  is  like 
what  I have  read  in  narratives  of  escape  from  prison, 
said  he,  “ where  the  little  track  of  the  fugitives  in  the 
night  always  seems  to  take  the  shape  of _ the  great  round 
world,  on  which  they  wander;  as  if  it  were  a secret 

Here  he  ceased  to  be  the  oakum-headed,  oakum- 
whiskered  man  on  whom  Miss  Pleasant  Riderhood  had 
looked,  and,  allowing  for  his  being  still  wrapped  in  a 
nautical  overcoat,  became  as  like  that  same  lost  wanted 
Mr  Julius  Handford  as  never  man  was  like  another  m 
this  world.  In  the  breast  of  the  coat  he  stowed  the 
bristling  hair  and  whisker,  in  a moment,  as  the  favour- 
ing wind  went  with  him  down  a solitary  place  that  it 
had  swept  clear  of  passengers.  Yet  in  that  same 
moment  he  was  the  Secretary  also,  Mr.  Boffin’s  Secre- 
tary. For  John  Rokesmith,  too,  was  as  like  that  same 
lost  wanted  Mr.  Julius  Handford  as  never  man  was  like 
another  in  this  world. . . • n . 

I have  no  clue  to  the  scene  of  my  death,  said  he. 

Not  that  it  matters  now.  But  having  risked  discovery 
by  venturing  here  at  all,  I should  have  been  glad  to 
track  some  part  of  the  way.”  With  which  singular 
words  he  abandoned  his  search,  came  up  out  of  Lime- 
house  Hole,  and  took  the  way  past  Limehouse  Church 
At  the  great  iron  gate  of  the  churchyard  he  stopped 
and  looked  in.  He  looked  fip  at  the  high  tower 
spectrally  resisting  the  wind,  and  he  looked  round  at 
the  white  tombstones,  like  enough  to  the  dead  in  their 
winding-sheets,  and  he  counted. the  nine  tolls  of  the 
clockbell. 

“ It  is  a sensation  not  experienced  by  many  mortals,” 
said  he,  “to  be  looking  into  a churchyard  on  a wild 
windy  night,  and  to  feel  that  I no  more  hold  a place 
among  the  living  than  these  dead  do,  and  even  to  know 
that  I lie  buried  somewhere  else,  as  they  lie  buried  here. 
Nothing  uses  me  to  it.  A spirit  that  was  once  a man 


A SOLO  AND  A DUETT. 


391 


could  hardly  feel  stranger  or  lonelier,  going  unrecog- 
nised among  mankind,  than  I feel. 

But  this  is  the  fanciful  side  of  the  situation.  It  has 
a real  side,  so  difficult  that,  though  I think  of  it  every 
day,  I never  thoroughly  think  it  out.  Now,  let  me 
determine  to  think  it  out  as  I walk  home.  I know  I 
evade  it,  as  many  men — perhaps  most  men — do  evade 
thinking  their  way  through  their  greatest  perplexity. 
I will  try  to  pin  myself  to  mine.  Don’t  evade  it,  John 
Harmon ; don’t  evade  it ; think  it  out  ! 

^^When  I came  back  to  England,  attracted  to  the 
country  with  which  I had  none  but  most  miserable 
associations,  by  the  accounts  of  my  fine  inheritance 
that  found  me  abroad,  I came  back,  shrinking  from  my 
father’s  money,  shrinking  from  my  father’s  memory, 
mistrustful  of  being  forced  on  a mercenary  wife, 
mistrustful  of  my  father’s  intention  in  thrusting  that 
marriage  on  me,  mistrustful  that  I was  already  grow- 
ing avaricious,  mistrustful  that  I was  slackening  in 
gratitude  to  the  two  dear,  noble,  honest  friends  who 
had  made  the  only  sunlight  in  my  childish  life,  or  that 
of  my  hea.rt-broken  sister.  I came  back,  timid,  divid- 
ed in  my  mind,  afraid  of  myself  and  everybody  here, 
knowing  of  nothing  but  wretchedness  that  my  father’s 
wealth  had  ever  brought  about.  Now,  stop,  and  so  far 
think  it  out,  John  Harmon.  Is  that  so  ? That  is  exactly 
so. 

On  board,  serving  as  third  mate  was  George  Rad- 
foot.  I knew  nothing  of  him.  His  name  first  became 
known  to  me  about  a week  before  we  sailed,  through 
my  being  accosted  by  one  of  the  ship-agent’s  clerks  as 
'Mr.  Radfoot.’  It  was  one  day  when  I had  gone 
aboard  to  look  to  my  preparations,  and  the  clerk,  com- 
ing behind  me  as  I stood  on  deck,  tapped  me  on  the 
shoulder,  and  said,  'Mr.  Radfoot,  look  here,’  referring 
to  some  papers  that  he  had  in  his  hand.  And  my  name 
first  became  known  to  Radfoot  through  another 
clerk  within  a. day  or  two,  and  while  the  ship  was  yet 
in  port,  coming  up  behind  him,  tapping  him  on  the 
shoulder  and  beginning,  ' I beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Har- 
mon  .’  I believe  we  were  alike  in  bulk  and 

stature,  but  not  otherwise,  and  that  we  were  not  strik- 
ingly alike,  even  in  those  respects,  when  we  were  tO' 
aether  and  could  be  compared. 


392 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


However,  a sociable  word  or  two  on  these  mistakes 
became  an  easy  introduction  between  us,  and  the 
weather  was  hot,  and  he  helped  me  to  a cool  cabin  on 
deck  alongside  his  own,  and  his  first  school  had  been  at 
Brussels  as  mine  had  been,  and  he  had  learnt  French  as 
I had  learnt  it,  and  he  had  a little  history  of  himself  to 
relate — God  only  knows  how  much  of  it  true,  and  how 
much  of  it  false — that  had  its  likeness  to  mine.  I had 
been  a seaman,  too.  So  we  got  to  be  confidential  to- 
gether, and  the  more  easily  yet,  because  he  and  every 
one  on  board  had  known,  by  general  rumor,  what  I was 
making  the  voyage  to  England  for.  By  such  degrees 
and  means,  he  came  to  the  knowledge  of  my  uneasiness 
of  mind,  and  of  its  setting  at  that  time  in  the  direction 
of  desiring  to  see  and  form  some  judgment  of  my 
allotted  wife,  before  she  could  possibly  know  me  for 
myself  ; also  to  try  Mrs.  Boffin  and  give  her  a glad  sur- 
prise. So  the  plot  was  made  out  of  our  getting  common 
sailors’  dresses  (as  he  was  able  to  guide  me  about  Lon- 
don), and  throv/ing  ourselves  in  Bella  Wilfer’s  neigh- 
borhood, and  trying  to  put  ourselves  in  her  way,  and 
doing  whatever  chance  might  favor  on  the  spot,  and 
seeing  what  came  of  it.  If  nothing  came  of  it,  I should 
be  no  worse  off,  and  there  would  merely  be  a short  de- 
lay in  presenting  myself  to  Lightwood.  I have  all 
these  facts  right.  Yes.  They  are  all  accurately  right. 

His  advantage  in  all  this  was,  that  for  a time  I was 
to  be  lost.  It  might  be  for  a day  or  for  two  days,  but  I 
must  be  lost  sight  of  on  landing,  or  there  would  be 
recognition,  anticipation,  and  failure.  Therefore,  I dis- 
embarked with  my  valise  in  my  hand — as  Potterson  the 
steward  and  Mr.  Jacob  Kibble  my  fellow-passenger 
afterwards  remembered — and  waited  for  him  in  the  dark 
by  that  very  Limehouse  Church  which  is  now  behind 
me. 

As  I had  always  shunned  the  port  of  London,  I only 
knew  the  church  through  his  pointing  out  its  spire  from 
on  board.  Perhaps  I might  recall,  if  it  were  any  good 
to  try,  the  way  by  which  I went  to  it  alone  from  the 
river  ; but  how  we  two  went  from  it  to  Riderhood’s  shop, 
I don’t  know — any  more  than  I know  what  turns  we 
took  and  doubles  we  made,  after  we  left  it.  The  way 
was  purposely  confused,  no  doubt. 

‘‘But  let  me  go  on  thinking  the  facts  out;,  and  avoid 


A SOLO  AND  A DUETT. 


393 


confusing  them  with  my  speculations.  Whether  he  took 
me  by  a straight  way  or  a crooked  way,  what  is  that  to 
the  purpose  now  ? Steady,  John  Harmon. 

When  we  stopped  at  Riderhood's,  and  he  asked  that 
scoundrel  a question  or  two,  purporting  to  refer  only  to 
the  lodging-houses  in  which  there  was  accommodation 
for  us,  had  I the  least  suspicion  of  him  ? None.  Cer- 
tainly none  until  afterwards,  when  I held  the  clue.  I 
think  he  must  have  got  from  Riderhood  in  a pajjer,  the 
drug,  or  whatever  it  was,  that  afterwards  stupefied  me, 
but  I am  far  from  sure.  All  I felt  safe  in  charging  on 
him  to-night  was  old  companionship  in  villainy  between 
them.  Their  undisguised  intimacy,  and  the  character  I 
now  know  Riderhood  to  bear,  made  that  not  at  all  ad- 
venturous. But  I am  not  clear  about  the  drug.  Think- 
ing out , the  circumstances  on  which  I found  my  sus- 
picion, they  are  only  two.  One  : I remember  his  changing 
a small  folded  paper  from  one  pocket  to  another,  after 
we  came  out,  which  he  had  not  touched  before.  Two  : 
I now  know  Riderhood  to  have  been  previously  taken 
up  for  being  concerned  in  the  robbery  of  an  unlucky 
seaman,  to  whom  some  such  poison  had  been  given. 

‘^It  is  my  conviction  that  we  cannot  have  gone  a 
mile  from  that  shop,  before  we  came  to  the  wall,  the 
dark  doorway,  the  flight  of  stairs  and  the  room.  The 
night  was  particularly  dark  and  it  rained  hard.  As  I 
think  the  circumstances  back,  I hear  the  rain  splashing 
on  the  stone  pavement  of  the  passage,  which  was  not 
under  cover.  The  room  overlooked  the  river  or  a dock, 
or  a creek,  and  the  tide  was  out.  Being  possessed  of 
the  time  down  to  that  point,  I know  by  the  hour  that 
it  must  have  been  about  low  water;  but  while  the  coffee 
was  getting  ready,  I drew  back  the  curtain  (a  dark- 
brown  curtain),  and,  looking  out,  knew  by  the  kind  of 
reflection  below,  of  the  few  neighbouring  lights,  that 
they  were  reflected  in  tidal  mud. 

He  had  carried  under  his  arm  a canvas  bag,  con- 
taining a suit  of  his  clothes.  I had  no  change  of  outer 
clothes  with  me,  as  I was  to  buy  slops.  ^ You  are  very 
wet,  Mr.  Harmon,’ — can  hear  him  saying — ‘and  I am 
quite  dry  under  this  good  waterproof  coat.  Put  on  these 
clothes  of  mine.  You  may  find  on  trying  them  that 
they  will  answer  your  purpose  to-morrow,  as  well  as 
the  slops  you  mean  to  buy,  or  better.  While  you 


804 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


change,  111  huny  the  hot  coffee.’  When  he  came  back, 
I had  his  clothes  on,  and  there  was  a black  man  with 
him,  wearing  a linen  jacket,  like  a steward,  who  put 
the  smoking  coffee  on  the  table  in  a tray  and  never 
looked  at  me.  I am  so  far  literal  and  exact  ? Literal 
and  exact,  I am  certain. 

Now,  I pass  to  sick  and  deranged  impressions;  they 
are  so  strong,  that  I rely  upon  them  ; but  there  are 
spaces  between  them  that  I know  nothing  about,  and 
they  are  not  pervaded  by  any  idea  of  time.  . 

I had  drank  some  coffee,  v/hen  to  my  sense  of  sight 
he  began  to  swell  immensely,  and  something  urged  me 
to  rush  at  him.  We  had  a struggle  near  the  door.  He 
got  from  me,  through  my  not  knowing  where  to  strike, 
in  the  whirling  round  of  the  room,  and  the  flashing  of 
flames  of  Are  between  us.  I dropped  down.  Lying 
helpless  on  the  ground,  I was  turned  over  by  a foot.  I 
was  dragged  by  the  neck  into  a corner.  I heard  men 
speak  together.  I.  was  turned  over  by  other  feet.  I 
saw  a figure  like  myself  lying  dressed  in  my  clothes  on 
a bed.  What  might  have  been,  for  anything  I knew,  a 
silence  of  days,  weeks,  months,  years,  was  broken  by  a 
violent  wrestling  of  men  all  over  the  room.  The  figure 
like  myself  was  assailed,  and  my  valise  was  in  its  hand. 
I was  trodden  upon  and  fallen  over.  I heard  a noise 
of  blows,  and  thought  it  was  a wood-cutter  cutting  down 
a tree.  1 could  not  have  said  that  my  name  was  John 
Harmon — I could  not  have  thought  it — I didn’t  know  it 
— but  when  I heard  the  blows,  I thought  of  the  wood- 
cutter and  his  axe,  and  had  some  dead  idea  that  I was 
lying  in  a forest. 

‘^This  is  still  correct?  Still  correct,  with  the  excep- 
tion that  I cannot  possibly  express  it  to  myself  without 
using  the  word  I.  But  it  was  not  I.  There  was  no  such 
thing  as  I,  within  my  knowledge. 

It  was  only  after  a downward  slide  through  some- 
thing like  a tube,  and  then  a great  noise  and  a spark- 
ling and  crackling  as  of  fires,  that  the  consciousness 
came  upon  me,  ^ This  is  John  Harmon  drowning!  John 
Harmon,  struggle  for  your  life!  John  Harmon,  call  on 
Heaven,  and  save  yourself  ! ’ I think  I cried  it  out  aloud 
in  a great  agony,  and  then  a heavy  horrid  unintelligible 
something  vanished,  and  it  was  I who  was  struggling 
there  alone  in  the  water. 


A SOLO  AND  A DUETT. 


395 


was  very  weak  and  faint,  frightfully  oppressed 
with  drowsiness,  and  driving  fast  with  the  tide.  Look- 
ing over  the  black  water,  I saw  the  lights  racing  past 
me  on  the  two  banks  of  the  river,  as  if  they  were  eager 
to  be  gone  and  leave  me  dying  in  the  dark.  The  tide 
was  running  down,  but  I knew  nothing  of  up  or  down 
then.  When,  guiding  myself  safely  with  Heaven’s 
assistance  before  the  fierce  set  of  the  water,  I at  last 
caught  at  a boat  moored,  one  of  a tier  of  boats  at  a 
causeway,  I was  sucked  under  her,  and  came  up,  only 
just  alive,  on  the  other  side. 

Was  I long  in  the  water?  Long  enough  to  be  chilled 
to  the  heart,  but  I don’t  know  how  long.  Yet  the  cold 
was  merciful,  for  it  was  the  cold  night  air  and  the  rain 
that  restored  me  from  a swoon  on  the  stones  of  the 
causeway.  They  naturally  supposed  me  to  have  toppled 
in,  drunk,  when  I crept  to  the  public-house  it  belonged 
to;  for  I had  no  notion  where  I was,  and  could  not  ar- 
ticulate— through  the  poison  that  had  made  me  insensi- 
ble having  affected  my  speech — and  I supposed  the  night 
to  be  a previous  night,  as  it  was  still  dark  and  raining. 
But  I had  lost  twenty-four  hours. 

have  checked  the  calculation  often,  and  it  must 
have  been  two  nights  that  I lay  recovering  in  that 
public^house.  Let  me  see.  Yes.  1 am  sure  it  was 
while  i lay  in  that  bed  there,  that  the  thought  entered 
my  head  of  turning  the  danger  I had  passed  through, 
to  the  account  of  being  for  some  time  supposed  to  have 
disappeared  mysteriously,  and  of  proving  Bella.  The 
dread  of  our  being  forced  on  one  another,  and  perpetu- 
ating the  fate  that  seemed  to  have  fallen  on  my  father’s 
riches — the  fate  that  they  should  lead  to  nothing  ‘but 
evil — was  strong  upon  the  moral  timidity  that  dates 
from  my  childhood  with  my  poor  sister. 

As  to  this  hour  I cannot  understand  that  side  of  the 
river  where  I recovered  the  shore,  being  the  opposite 
side  to  that  on  which  I was  ensnared,  I shall  never  un- 
derstand it  now.  Even  at  this  moment,  while  I leave 
the  river  behind  me,  going  home,  I cannot  conceive 
that  it  rolls  between  me  and  that  spot,  or  that  the  sea  is 
where  it  is.  But  this  is  not  thinking  it  out  ; this  is 
making  a leap  to  the  present  time. 

Qould  not  have  done  it,  but  for  the  fortune  in  the 
waterproof  belt  round  my  body.  Not  a great  fortune,for- 


396 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


ty  and  odd  pounds  for  the  inheritor  of  a hundred  and  odd 
thousand  ! But  it  was  enough.  Without  it  I must  have 
disclosed  myself.  Without  it,  I could  never  have  gone 
to  that  Exchequer  Coffee  House,  or  taken  Mrs.  WilfeFs 
lodgings. 

^^Some  twelve  days  I lived  at  that  hotel,  before  the 
night  when  I saw  the  corpse  of  Radfoot  at  the  Police 
Station.  The  inexpressible  mental  horror  that  I la- 
boured under,  as  one  of  the  consequences  of  the  poison, 
makes  the  interval  seem  greatly  longer,  but  I know 
it  cannot  have  been  longer.  That  suffering  has  grad- 
ually weakened  and  weakened  since,  and  has  only  come 
upon  me  by  starts,  and  I hope  I am  free  from  it  now ; 
but,  even  now,  I have  sometimes  to  think,  constrain 
myself,  and  stop  before  speaking,  or  I could  not  say  the 
words  I want  to  say. 

Again  I ramble  away  from  thinking  it  out  to  the 
end.  It  is  not  so  far  to  the  end  that  I need  be  tempted 
to  break  off.  Now,  on  straight  ! 

examined  the  newspapers  every  day  for  tidings 
that  I was  missing,  but  saw  none.  Going  out  that 
night  to  walk  (for  I kept  retired  while  it  was  light),  I 
found  a crowd  assembled  round  a placard  posted  at 
Whitehall.  It  described  myself,  John  Harmon,  as 
found  dead  and  mutilated  in  the  river  under  circum- 
stances of  strong  suspicion, described  my  dress,described 
the  papers  in  my  pockets,  and  stated  where  I was  lying 
for  recognition.  In  a wild  incautious  way  I hurried 
there,  and  there — with  the  horror  of  the  death  I had 
escaped  before  my  eyes  in  its  most  appalling  shape, 
added  to  the  inconceivable  horror  tormenting  me  at  that 
time  when  the  poisonous  stuff  was  strongest  on  me — 
I perceived  that  Radfoot  had  been  murdered  by  some 
unknown  hands  for  the  money  for  which  he  would  have 
murdered  me,  and  that  probably  we  had  both  been  shot 
into  the  river  from  the  same  dark  place  into  the  same 
dark  tide,  when  the  stream  ran  deep  and  strong. 

That  night  I almost  gave  up  my  mystery,  though  I 
suspected  no  one,  could  offer  no  information,  knew  ab- 
solutely nothing  save  that  the  murdered  man  was  not  I, 
but  Radfoot.  Next  day  while  I hesitated,  and  next  day 
while  I hesitated,  it  seemed  as  if  the  whole  country 
were  determined  to  have  me  dead.  The  Inquest  de- 
clared me  dead,  the  Government  proclaimed  me  dead ; 


A SOLO  AND  A DUETT. 


39^ 


I could  not  listen  at  my  fireside  for  five  minutes  to  the 
outer  noises,  but  it  was  borne  into  my  ears  that  I was 
dead. 

So  John  Harmon  died,  and  Julius  Handford  disap- 
peared, and  John  Rokesmith  was  born.  John  Roke- 
smith’s  intent  to-night  has  been  to  repair  a wrong  that 
he  could  never  have  imagined  possible,  coming  to  his 
ears  through  the  Lightwood  talk  related  to  him,  and 
which  he  is  bound  by  every  consideration  to  remedy. 
In  that  intent  John  Rokesmith  will  persevere,  as  his 
duty  is. 

^'Now,  is  it  all  thought  out?  All  to  this  time? 
Nothing  omitted?  No,  nothing.  But  beyond  thk  time? 
To  think  it  out  through  the  future  is  a harder,  though  a 
much  shorter,  task  than  to  think  it  out  through  the 
past.  John  Harmon  is  dead.  Should  John  Harmon 
come  to  life? 

If  yes,  why?  If  no,  why?”  ^ 

Take  yes  first.  To  enlighten  human  Justice  con- 
cerning the  offence  of  one  far  beyond  it  who  may  have 
a living  mother.  To  enlighten  it  with  the  lights  of  a 
stone  passage,  a flight  of  stairs,  a brown  window- 
curtain,  and  a black  man.  To  come  into  possession  of 
my  father’s  money,  and  with  it  sordidly  to  buy  a beau- 
tiful creature  whom  I love — I cannot  help  it ; reason 
has  nothing  to  do  with  it;  I love  her  against  reason — 
but  who  would  as  soon  love  me  for  my  own  sake,  as  she 
would  love  the  beggar  at  the  corner.  What  a use  for 
the  money,  and  how  worthy  of  its  old  misuses  ! 

^^Now,  take  no.  The  reasons  why  John  Harmon 
should  not  come  to  life.  Because  he  has  passively  al- 
lowed these  dear  old  faithful  friends  to  pass  into  pos- 
session of  the  property.  Because,  he  sees  them  happy 
with  it,  making  a good  use  of  it,  effacing  the  old  rust 
and  tarnish  on  the  money.  Because  they  have  virtu- 
ally adopted  Bella,  and  will  provide  for  her.  Because 
there  is  affection  enough  in  her  nature,  and  warmth 
enough  in  her  heart,  to  develop  into  something  endur- 
ingly  good,  undei*  favourable  conditions.  Because  her 
faults  have  been  intensified  by  her  place  in  my  father’s 
will,  and  she  is,  already  growing  better.  Because  her 
marriage  with  John  Harmon,  after  which  I have  heard 
from  her  own  lips,  would  be  a shocking  mockery,  of 
‘which  both  she  and  I must  always  be  conscious,  and 


398 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


which  would  degrade  her  in  her  mind,  and  me  in  mine, 
and  each  of  us  in  the  other’s.  Because,  if  John  Harmon 
comes  to  life  and  does  not  marry  her,  the  property  falls 
into  the  rery  hands  that  hold  it  now. 

What  would  I have  ? Dead,  I have  found  the  true 
friends  of  my  lifetime  still  as  true,  as  tender,  and  as 
faithful  as  when  I was  alive,  and  making  my  memory 
an  incentive  to  good  actions  done  in  my  name.  Dead, 
I have  found  them,  when  they  might  have  slighted  my 
name,  and  passed  greedily  over  my  grave  to  ease  and 
wealth,  lingering  by  the  way,  like  the  single-hearted 
children,  to  recall  their  love  for  me  when  I was  a poor 
fright^ied  child.  Dead,  I have  heard  from  the  woman 
who  would  have  been  my  wife  if  I had  lived,  the  re- 
volting truth  that  I should  have  purchased  her,  caring 
nothing  for  me,  as  a Sultan  buys  a slave. 

What  would  I have  ? If  the  dead  could  know,  or 
do  know,  how  the  living  use  them,  who  among  the  hosts 
of  dead  has  found  a more  disinterested  fidelity  on  earth 
than  I ? Is  not  that  enough  for  me  ? If  I had  come 
back,  these  noble  creatures  would  have  welcomed  me, 
wept  over  me,  given  up  everything  to  me  with  joy.  I 
did  not  come  back,  and  they  have  passed  unspoiled  into 
my  place.  Let  them  rest  in  it,  and  let  Bella  rest  in 
hers. 

What  course  for  me,  then  ? This.  To  live  the  same 
quiet  Secretary  life,  carefully  avoiding  chances  of  re- 
cognition, until  they  shall  become  more  accustomed  to 
their  altered  state,  and  until  the  great  swarm  of  swind- 
lers under  many  names  shall  have  found  newer  prey. 
By  that  time  the  method  I am  establishing  through  all 
the  affairs,  and  with  which  I will  every  day  take  new 
pains  to  make  them  both  familiar,  will  be,  I may  hope, 
a machine  in  such  working  order  as  that  they  can  keep 
it  going.  I know  I need  but  ask  of  their  generosity  to 
have.  When  the  right  time  comes  I will  ask  no  more 
than  will  replace  me  in  my  former  path  of  life,  and 
John  Rokesmith  shall  tread  it  as  contentedly  as  he  may. 
But  John  Harmon  shall  come  back  no  more. 

That  I may  never,  in  the  days  to  come  afar  off, 
have  any  weak  misgiving  that  Bella  might,  in  any  con- 
tingency, have  taken  me  for  my  own  sake  if  I had 
plainly  asked  her,  I ivill  plainly  ask  her  : proving  be- 
yond all  question  what  I already  know  too  well.  And  • 


A SOLO  AND  A DUETT. 


399 


now  it  is  all  thought  out,  from  the  beginning  to  the 
end,  and  my  mind  is  easier.’' 

So  deeply  engaged  had  the  living-dead  man  been,  in 
thus  communing  with  himself,  that  he  had  regarded 
neither  the  wind  nor  the  way,  and  had  resisted  the 
former  as  instinctively  as  he  had  pursued  the  latter. 
But  being  now  come  into  the  City,  where  there  was  a 
coach-stand,  he  stood  irresolute  whether  to  go  to  his 
lodgings,  or  to  go  first  to  Mr.  Boffin’s  house.  He  de- 
cided to  go  round  by  the  house,  arguing,  as  he  carried 
his  overcoat  upon  his  arm,  that  it  was  less  likely  to  at- 
tract notice  if  left  there,  than  if  taken  to  Holloway  : 
both  Mrs.  Wilfer  and  Miss  Lavinia  being  ravenously 
curious  touching  every  article  of  which  the  lodger  stood 
possessed. 

Arriving  at  the  house,  he  found  that  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Boffin  were  out,  but  that  Miss  Wilfer  was  in  the  draw- 
ing-room. Miss  Wilfer  had  remained  at  home,  in  con- 
sequence of  not  feeling  very  well,  and  had  inquired  in 
the  evening  if  Mr.  Rokesmith  were  in  his  room. 

Make  my  compliments  to  Miss  Wilfer,  and  say  I am 
here  now.” 

Miss  Wilfer’s  compliments  came  down  in  return,  and 
if  it  were  not  too  much  trouble,  would  Mr.  Rokesmith 
be  so  kind  as  to  come  up  before  he  went  ? 

It  was  not  too  much  trouble,  and  Mr.  Rokesmith 
came  up. 

Oh  she  looked  very  pretty,  she  looked  very,  very 
pretty  ! If  the  father  of  the  late  John  Harmon  had  but 
left  his  money  unconditionally  to  his  son,  and  if  his  son 
had  but  lighted  on  this  lovable  girl  for  himself,  and 
had  the  happiness  to  make  her  loving  as  well  as  lov- 
able ! 

Dear  me!  Are  you  not  well,  Mr.  Rokesmith?  ” 

^Wes,  quite  well.  I was  sorry  to  hear,  when  I came 
in,  that  you  were  not.” 

A mere  nothing.  I had  a headache — gone  now — 
and  was  not  quite  fit  for  a hot  theatre,  so  I stayed  at 
home.  I asked  you  if  you  were  not  well,  because  you 
look  so  white.” 

Do  I?  I have  had  a busy  evening.” 

She  was  on  a low  ottoman  before  the  fire,  with  a little 
shining  jewel  of  a table,  and  her  book  and  her  work, 
beside  her.  Ah!  what  a different  life  the  late  John 


400 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Harmon’s,  if  it  had  been  his  happy  privilege  to  take  his 
place  upon  that  ottoman,  and  draw  his  arm  about  that 
waist,  and  say,  I hope  the  time  has  been  long  without 
me?  What  a Home  Goddess,  you  look,  my  darling!  ” 

But,  the  present  John  Rokesmith,  far  removed  from 
the  late  John  Harmon,  remained  standing  at  a distance. 
A little  distance  in  respect  of  space,  but  a great  distance 
in  respect  of  separation. 

Mr.  Rokesmith,”  said  Bella,  taking  up  her  work,  and 
inspecting  it  all  round  the  corners,  I wanted  to  say 
something  to  you  when  I could  have  the  opportunity, 
as  an  explanation  why  I was  rude  to  you  the  other  day. 
You  have  no  right  to  think  ill  of  me,  sir.” 

The  sharp  little  w^y  in  which  she  darted  a look  at 
him  half  sensitively  injured,  and  half  pettishly,  would 
have  been  very  much  admired  by  the  late  John 
Harmon. 

' Won  don’t  know  how  well  I think  of  you.  Miss 
Wilfef.” 

‘'Truly  you  must  have  a very  high  opinion  of  me, 
Mr.  Rokesmith,  when  you  believe  that  in  prosperity  I 
neglect  and  forget  my  old  home. 

“ Do  I believe  so  ?” 

“You  did,  sir,  at  any  rate,”  returned  Bella. 

“I  took  the  liberty  of  reminding  you  of  a little 
omission  into  which  you  had  fallen — insensibly  and 
naturally  fallen.  It  was  no  more  than  that.” 

“And  I beg  leave  to  ask  you,  Mr.  Rokesmith,”  said 
Bella,  “why  you  took  that  liberty? — I hope  there  is  no 
offence  in  the  phrase;  it  is  your  own,  remember.” 

“ Because  I am  truly,  deeply,  profoundly  interested  in 
you.  Miss  Wilfer.  Because  I wish  to  see  you  always  at 
your  best.  Because  I Shall  I go  on  ?” 

“No,  sir,”  returned  Bella,  with  a burning  face,  “you 
have  said  more  than  enough.  I beg  that  you  will  not 
go  on.  If  you  have  any  generosity,  any  honour,  you 
will  say  no  more.” 

The  late  John  Harmon,  looking  at  the  proud  face  with 
the  downcast  eyes,  and  at  the  quick  breathing  as  it 
stirred  the  fall  of  bright  brown  hair  over  the  beautiful 
neck,  would  probably  have  remained  silent. 

“I  wish  to  sj)eak  to  you,  sir,”  said  Bella,  “once  for 
all,  and  I don’t  know  how  to  do  it.  I have  sat  here  all 
this  evening,  wishing  to  speak  to  you,  and  determining 


A SOLO  AND  A DUETT. 


401 


to  speak  to  you,  and  feeling  that  I must.  I beg  for  a 
moment’s  time.” 

He  remained  silent,  and  she  remained  with  her  face 
averted,  sometimes  making  a slight  movement  as  if  she 
would  turn  and  speak.  At  length  she  did  so.  . 

^‘You  know  how  I am  situated  here,  sir,  and  you 
know  how  I am  situated  at  home.  I must  speak  to  you 
for  myself),  since  there  is  no  one  about  me  whom  I could 
ask  to  do  so.  It  is  not  generous  in  you,  it  is  not  hon- 
ourable  in  you,  to  conduct  yourself  towards  me  as  you 
do.” 

^Hs  it  ungenerous  or  dishonourable  to  be  devoted  to 
you;  fascinated  by  you?” 

^'Preposterous!”  said  Bella. 

The  late  John  Harmon  might  have  thought  it  rather 
a contemptuous  and  lofty  word  of  repudiation. 

" I now  feel  obliged  to  go  on,”  pursued  the  Secretary, 
"though  it  were  only  in  self -explanation  and  self- 
defence.  I hope.  Miss  Wilfer,  that  is  not  unpardon- 
able— even  in  me — to  make  an  honest  declaration  of  an 
honest  devotion  to  you.” 

"An  honest  declaration!”  repeated  Bella,  with  em- 
phasis. 

"Is  it  otherwise? ” 

"I  must  request,  sir,”  said  Bella,  taking  refuge  in  a 
touch  of  timely  resentment,  "that  I may  not  be  ques- 
tioned. You  must  excuse  me  if  I decline  to  be  cross- 
examined.” 

"Oh,  Miss  Wilfer,  this  is  hardly  charitable!  I ask 
you  nothing  but  what  your  own  emphasis  suggests. 
However,  I waive  even  that  question.  But  what  I have 
declared,  I take  my  stand  by.  I cannot  recall  the 
avowal  of  my  earnest  and  deep  attachment  to  you,  and 
I do  not  recall  it.” 

"I  reject  it,  sir,”  said  Bella. 

" I should  be  blind  and  deaf  if  I were  not  prepared  for 
the  reply.  Forgive  my  offence,  for  it  carries  its  punish- 
ment with  it.” 

"What  punishment?”  asked  Bella. 

"Is  my  present  endurance  none  ? But  excuse  me;  I 
did  not  mean  to  cross-examine  you  again.” 

"You  take  advantage  of  a hasty  word  of  mine,”  said 
Bella  with  a little  sting  of  self-reproach,  "to  make  me 
s<^em — I don’t  know  what.  I spoke  without  considera- 
VOL.  I.  26 


402 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


tion  when  I used  it.  If  that  was  bad,  I am  soriy;  but 
you  repeat  it  after  consideration,  and  that  seems  to  me 
to  be  at  least  no  better.  For  the  rest,  I beg  it  may  be 
understood,  Mr.  Rokesmith,  that  there  is  an  end  of  this 
between  us,  now  and  for  ever.’’ 

Now  and  for  ever,”  he  repeated. 

''Yes.  I appeal  to  you,  sir,”  proceeded  Bella  with  in- 
creasing spirit,  "not  to  pursue  me.  I appeal  to  you  not 
to  take  advantage  of  your  position  in  this  house  to  make 
my  position  in  it  distressing  and  disagreeable.  I appeal 
to  you  to  discontinue  your  habit  of  making  your  mis- 
placed attentions  as  plain  to  Mrs.  Boffin  as  to  me.” 

" Have  I done  so  ?” 

"I  should  think  you  have,”  replied  Bella.  "In  any 
case  it  is  not  your  fault  if  you  have  not,  Mr.  Roke- 
smith 

"I  hope  you  are  wrong  in  that  impression.  I should 
be  very  sorry  to  have  justified  it.  I think  I have  not. 
For  the  future  there  is  no  apprehension.  It  is  all  over.” 

" I am  much  relieved  to  hear  it,”  said  Bella.  " I have 
far  other  views  in  life,  and  why  should  you  waste  your 
own?” 

" Mine!  ” said  the  Secretary.  " My  life!  ” 

His  curious  tone  caused  Bella  to  glance  at  the  curious 
smile  with  which  he  said  it.  It  was  gone  as  he  glanced 
back.  "Pardon  me.  Miss  Wilfer,”  he  proceeded,  when 
their  eyes  met;  "you  have  used  some  hard  words,  for 
which  I do  not  doubt  you  have  a justification  in  your 
mind,  that  I do  not  understand.  Ungenerous  and  dis- 
honorable. In  what  ? ” 

"I  would  rather  not  be  asked,”  said  Bella,  haughtily 
looking  down. 

" I would  rather  not  ask,  but  the  question  is  imposed 
upon  me.  Kindly  explain  ; or  if  not  kindly,  justly.” 

" Oh,  sir  !”  said  Bella,  raising  her  eyes  to  his,  after  a 
little  struggle  to  forbear,  "is  it  generous  and  honour- 
able to  use  the  power  here  which  your  favour  with  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Boffin,  and  your  ability  in  your  place  give 
you,  against  me  ?” 

" Against  you  ?” 

"Is  it  generous  and  honourable  to  forma  plan  for 
gradually  bringing  their  influence  to  bear  upon  a suit 
which  I have  shown  you  that  I do  not  like,  and  which 
I tell  you  that  I utterly  reject.” 


A SOLO  AND  A DUETT.  403 

The  late  John  Harmon  could  have  borne  a good  deal, 
but  he  would  have  been  cut  to  the  heart  by  such  a sus- 
picion as  this. 

“Would  it  be  generous  and  honourable  to  step  into 
your  place — if  you  did  so,  for  I don’t  know  that  you  did, 
and  I hope  you  did  not — anticipating,  or  knowing  be- 
forehand that  I should  come  here,  and  designing  to 
take  me  at  this  disadvantage  ? ” 

“This  mean  and  cruel  disadvantage,”  said  the  Secre- 
tary. 

“Yes,”  assented  Bella. 

The  Secretary  kept  silence  for  a little  while  ; then 
merely  said,  “You  are  wholly  mistaken.  Miss  Wilfer, 
vmnderfully  mistaken.  I cannot  say,  however,  that  it 
is  your  fault.  If  I deserve  better  things  of  you,  you  do 
not  know  it.  ” 

“At  least,  sir,”  retorted  Bella,  with  her  old  indigna- 
tion rising,  “ you  know  the  history  of  my  being  here  at 
all.  I have  heard  Mr.  Boffin  say  that  you  are  master 
of  every  line  and  word  of  that  will,  as  you  are  master 
of  all  his  affairs.  And  was  it  not  enough  that  I should 
have  been  willed  away  like  a horse,  ora  dog,  or  a bird  ; 
but  must  you,  too,  begin  to  dispose  of  me  in  your  mind, 
and  speculate  in  me,  as  soon  as  I had  ceased  to  be  the 
talk  and  the  laugh  of  the  town  ? Am  I for  ever  to  be 
made  the  property  of  strangers  ? ” 

“Believe  me,”  returned  the  Secretary,  “you  are 
wonderfully  mistaken.” 

“ I should  be  glad  to  know  it,”  answered  Bella. 

“ I doubt  if  you  ever  will.  Good-night.  Of  course,  I 
shall  be  careful  to  conceal  any  traces  of  this  interview 
from  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin  as  long  as  I remain  here. 
Trust  me,  what  you  have  complained  of  is  at  an  end  for 
ever.  ” 

“lam  glad  J have  spoken,  then,  Mr.  Rokesmith.  It 
has  been  painful  and  difficult,  but  it  is  done.  If  I have 
hurt  you,  I hope  you  will  forgive  me.  I am  inexpe- 
rienced and  impetuous,  and  I have  been  a little  spoilt ; 
but  I really  am  not  so  bad  as  I dare  say  I appear, 
or  as  you  think  me.’’ 

He  quitted  the  room  when  Bella  had  said  this,  relent- 
ing in  her  wilful  inconsistent  way.  Let  alone,  she 
threw  herself  back  on  her  ottoman,  and  said,  ''I 
didn’t  know  the  lovely  woman  was  such  a Dragon!” 


404 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Then,  she  got  up  and  looked  in  the  glass,  and  said  to 
her  image,  ^‘You  have  been  positively  swelling  your 
features,  you  little  fool ! ” Then,  she  took  an  impatient 
walk  to  the  other  end  of  the  room  and  back,  and  said, 

I wish  Pa  was  here  to  have  a talk  about  an  avaricious 
marriage;  but  he  is  better  a. way,  poor  dear,  for  I know 
I should  pull  his  hair  if  he  ivas  here.”  And  then  she 
threw  her  work  away,  and  threw  her  book  after  it,  and 
sat  down  and  hummed  a tune,  and  hummed  it  out  of 
tune,  and  quarrelled  with  it. 

And  John  Rokesmith,  what  did  he? 

He  went  down  to  his  room,  and  buried  John  Harmon 
many  additional  fathoms  de^p.  He  took  his  hat,  and 
walked  out,  and,  as  he  went  to  Holloway  or  anywhere 
else — not  at  all  minding  where — heaped  mounds  upon 
mounds  of  earth  over  John  Harmon’s  grave.  His  walk- 
ing did  not  bring  him  home  until  the  dawn  of  day.  And 
so  busy  had  he  been  all  night,  piling  and  piling  weights 
upon  weights  of  earth  above  John  Harmon’s  grave,  that 
by  that  time  John  Harmon  lay  buried  under  a whole 
Alpine  range;  and  still  the  Sexton  Rokesmith  accumu- 
lated mountains  over  him,  lightening  his  labour  with 
the  dirge,  Cover  him,  crush  him,  keep  him  down!” 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


STRONG  OF  PURPOSE. 


HE  sexton -task  of  piling  earth  above  John  Harmon 


X all  night  long  was  not  conducive  to  sound  sleep; 
but  Rokesmith  had  some  broken  morning  rest,  and  rose 
strengthened  in  his  purpose.  It  was  all  over  now.  No 
’ ghost  should  trouble  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin’s  peace;  in- 
visible and  voiceless,  the  ghost  should  look  on  for  a 
little  while  longer  at  the  state  of  existence  out  of 
which  it  had  departed,  and  then  should  for  ever  cease 
to  haunt  the  scenes  in  which  it  had  no  place. 

He  went  over  it  all  again.  He  had  lapsed  into  the 
condition  in  which  he  found  himself,  as  many  a man 
lapses  into  many  a condition,  without  perceiving  the 


STRONG  OF  PURPOSE. 


405 


accumulative  power  of  its  separate  circumstances. 
When,  in  the  distrust  engendered  by  his  wretched  child- 
hood and  the  action  for  evil — never  yet  for  good  within 
his  knowledge  then — of  his  father  and  his  father’s 
wealth  on  all  within  their  influence,  he  conceived  the 
idea  of  his  flrst  deception,  it  was  meant  to  be  harmless, 
it  was  to  last  but  a few  hours  or  days,  it  was  to  involve 
in  it  only  the  girl  so  capriciously  forced  upon  him,  and 
upon  whom  he  was  so  capriciously  forced,  and  it  was 
honestly  meant  well  towards  her.  For,  if  he  had  found 
her  unhappy  in  the  prospect  of  that  marriage  (through  her 
heart  inclining  to  another  man  or  for  any  other  cause), 
he  would  seriously  have  said:  This  is  another  of  the 
old  perverted  uses  of  the  misery-making  money.  I will 
let  it  go  to  my  and  my  sister’s  only  protectors  and 
friends.”  When  the  snare  into  which  he  fell  so  out- 
stripped his  flrst  intention  as  that  he  found  himself 
placarded  by  the  police  authorities  upon  the  London 
walls  for  dead,  he  confusedly  accepted  the  aid  that 
fell  upon  him,  without  considering  how  firmly  it  must 
seem  to  fix  the  Boffins  in  their  accession  to  the  fortune. 
When  he  saw  them,  and  knew  them,  and  even  from  his 
vantage-ground  of  inspection  could  And  no  flaw  in 
them,  he  asked  himself,  And  shall  I come  to  life  to 
dispossess  such  people  as  these?”  There  was  no  good 
to  set  against  the  putting  of  them  to  that  hard  proof. 
He  had  heard  from  Bella’s  own  lips  when  he  stood  tap- 
ping at  the  door  on  that  night  of  his  taking  the  lodgings, 
that  the  marriage  would  have  been  on  her  part  thor- 
oughly mercenary.  He  had  since  tried  her,  in  his  own 
unknown  person  and  supposed  station,  and  she  not  only 
rejected  his  advances  but  resented  them.  Was  it  for 
him  to  have  the  shame  of  buying  her,  or  the  meanness 
of  punishing  her?  Yet,  by  coming  to  life  and  accept- 
ing the  condition  of  the  inheritance,  he  must  do  the 
former;  and  by  coming  to  life  and  rejecting  it,  he  must 
do  the  latter. 

Another  consequence  that  he  had  never  foreshadowed, 
was  the  implication  of  an  innocent  man  in  his  supposed 
murder.  He  would  obtain  complete  retraction  from  the 
accuser,  and  set  the  wrong  right ; but  clearly  the  wrong 
could  never  have  been  done  if  he  had  never  planned  a 
deception.  Then,  whatever  inconvenience  or  distress 
of  mind  the  deception  cost  him,  it  was  manful  repent- 


406 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


antly  to  accept  as  among  its  consequences,  and  make 
no  complaint. 

Thus  John  Rokesmith  in  the  morning,  and  it  buried 
John  Harmon  still  many  fathoms  deeper  than  he  had 
been  buried  in  the  night. 

Going  out  earlier  than  he  was  accustomed  to  do,  he 
encountered  the  cherub  at  the  door.  The  cherub’s  way 
was  for  a certain  space  his  way,  and  they  walked 
together. 

It  was  impossible  not  to  notice  the  change  in  the 
cherub’s  appearance.  The  cherub  felt  very  conscious 
of  it,  and  modestly  remarked:  present  from  my 

daughter  Bella,  Mr.  Rokesmith.” 

The  words  gave  the  Secretary  a stroke  of  pleasure, 
for  he  remembered  the  fifty  pounds,  and  he  still  loved 
the  girl.  No  doubt  it  was  very  weak — it  always  is 
very  weak,  some  authorities  hold — but  he  loved  the 
girl. 

I don’t  know  whether  you  happen  to  have  read  many 
books  of  African  Travel,  Mr.  Rokesmith  ? ” said  R.  W. 
have  read  several.” 

Well,  you  know,  there’s  usually  a King  George,  or 
a King  Boy,  or  a King  Sambo,  or  a King  Bill,  -or  Bull, 
or  Rum,  or  Junk,  or  whatever  name  the  sailors  may 
have  happened  to  give  him.” 

Where  ?”  asked  Rokesmith. 

Anywhere.  Anywhere  in  Africa,  I mean.  Pretty 
well  everywhere,  I may  say  ; for  black  kings  are  cheap 
— and  I think” — said  R.  W.,  with  an  apologetic  air, 
'‘nasty.” 

" I am  much  of  your  opinion,  Mr.  Wilfer.  You  were 
going  to  say — ?” 

"I  was  going  to  say,  the  king  is  generally  dressed  in 
a London  hat  only,  or  a Manchester  pair  of  braces,  or 
one  epaulette,  or  an  uniform  coat  with  his  legs  in  the 
sleeves,  or  something  of  that  kind.” 

"Just  so,”  said  the  Secretary. 

"In  confidence,  I assure  you,  Mr.  Rokesmith,”  ob- 
served the  cheerful  cherub,  "that  when  more  of  my 
family  were  at  home  and  to  be  provided  for,  I used  to 
remind  myself  immensely  of  that  king.  You  have  no 
idea,  as  a single  man,  of  the  difficulty  I have  had  in 
wearing  more  than  one  good  article  at  a time.” 

" I can  easily  believe  it,  Mr.  Wilfer.” 


STRONG  OF  PURPOSE. 


407 


I only  mention  it/’  said  R.  W.,  in  the  warmth  of  his 
heart,  '^as  a proof  of  the  amiable,  delicate,  and  con- 
siderate affection  of  my  daughter  Bella.  If  she  had 
been  a little  spoilt,  I couldn’t  have  thought  so  very 
much  of  it,  under  the  circumstances.  But  no,  not  a 
bit.  And  she  is  so  very  pretty  ! I hope  you  agree  with 
me  in  finding  her  very  pretty,  Mr.  Rokesmith  ? ” 
Certainly  I do.  Every  one  must.” 

• ‘‘1  hope  so,”  said  the  cherub.  ‘‘^Indeed,  I have  no 
doubt  of  it.  This  is  a great  advancement  for  her  in  life, 
Mr.  Rokesmith.  A great  opening  of  her  prospects.” 

''Miss  Wilfer  could  have  no  better  friends  than  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Boffin.” 

"Impossible!”  said  the  gratified  cherub.  "Really, 
I begin  to  think  things  are  very  well  as  they  are.  If 
Mr.  John  Harmon  had  lived ” 

" He  is  better  dead,”  said  the  Secretary. 

" No,  I won’t  go  so  far  as  to  say  that,”  urged  the  cherub, 
a little  remonstrant  against  the  very  decisive  and  un- 
pitying tone;  "but  he  mightn’t  have  suited  Bella,  or 
Bella  mightn’t  have  suited  him,  or  fifty  things,  whereas 
now  I hope  she  can  choose  for  herself.” 

" Has  she — as  you  place  the  confidence  in  me  of 
speaking  on  the  subject,  you  will  excuse  my  asking — 
has  she — perhaps — chosen  ? ” faltered  the  Secretary. 

" Oh  dear  no  ! ” returned  R.  W. 

"Young  ladies  sometimes,”  Rokesmith  hinted,  "choose 
v/ithout  mentioning  their  choice  to  their  fathers.” 

"Not  in  this  case,  Mr.  Rokesmith.  Between  my 
daughter  Bella  and  me  there  is  a regular  league  and 
covenant  of  confidence.  It  was  ratified  only  the  other 
day.  The  ratification  dates  from — these,”  said  the 
cherub,  giving  a little  pull  at  the  lappels  of  his  coat  and 
the  pockets  of  his  trousers.  "Oh  no,  she  has  not 
chosen!  To  be  sure,  young  George  Sampson,  in  the 
days  when  Mr.  John  Harmon ” 

"Who  I wish  had  never  been  born  !”  said  the  Secre- 
tary, with  a gloomy  brow. 

R.  W.  looked  at  him  with  surprise,  as  thinking  he  had 
contracted  an  unaccountable  spite  against  the  poor 
deceased,  and  continued:  "In  the  days  when  Mr.  John 
Harmon  was  being  sought  out,  young  George  Sampson 
certainly  w^as  hovering  about  Bella,  and  Bella  let  him 
hover.  But  it  never  was  seriously  thought  of,  and  it’s 


408 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


still  less  than  ever  to  be  thought  of  now.  For  Bella  is 
ambitious,  Mr.  Rokesmith,  and  I think  I may  predict 
will  marry  fortune.  This  time,  you  see,  she  will  have 
the  person  and  the  property  before  her  together,  and 
will  be  able  to  make  her  choice  with  her  eyes  open.  This 
is  my  road.  I am  very  sorry  to  part  company  so  soon. 
Good  morning,  sir!  ’’ 

The  Secretary  pursued  his  way,  not  very  much  elevated 
in  spirits  by  this  conversation,  and,  arriving  at  the  Bof- 
fin mansion,  found  Betty  Higden  waiting  for  him. 

^‘1  should  thank  you  kindly,  sir,’’  said  Betty,  ''if  I 
might  make  so  bold  as  have  a word  or  two  wi’  you.” 

She  should  have  as  many  words  as  she  liked,  he  told 
her;  and  took  her  into  his  room,  and  made  her  sit  down. 

" ’Tis  concerning  Sloppy,  sir,”  said  Betty.  "And  that’s 
how  I come  here  by  myself.  Not  wishing  him  to  know 
what  I’m  a-going  to  say  to  you,  I got  the  start  of  him 
early,  and  walked  up.” 

"You  have  wonderful  energy,”  returned  Rokesmith. 
"You  are  as  young  as  I am.” 

Betty  Higden  gravely  shook  her  head.  " I am  strong 
for  my  time  of  life,  sir,  but  not  young,  thank  the  Lord!  ” 

" Are  you  thankful  for  not  being  young  ? ” 

"Yes,  sir.  If  I was  young,  it  would  all  have  to  be 
gone  through  again,  and  the  end  would  be  a weary  way 
off,  don’t  you  see  ? But  never  mind  me;  ’tis  concern- 
ing Sloppy.” 

"And  what  about  him,  Betty  ?” 

"’Tis  just  this,  sir.  It  can’t  be  reasoned  out  of  his 
head  by  any  powers  of  mine  but  what  that  he  can  do 
right  by  your  kind  lady  and  gentleman  and  do  his 
work  for  me,  both  together.  Now  he  can’t.  To  give 
himself  up  to  being  put  in  the  way  of  arning  a good  liv- 
ing and  getting  on,  he  must  give  me  up.  Well;  he 
won’t.’ 

"I  respect  him  for  it,”  said  Rokesmith. 

"Do  ye,  sir?  I don’t  know  but  what  I do  myself. 
Still  that  don’t  make  it  right  to  let  him  have  his  way. 
So,  as  he  won’t  give  me  up,  I’m  a-going  to  give  him  up.” 

" How,  Betty  ? ” 

" I’m  a-going  to  run  away  from  him.” 

With  an  astonished  look  at  the  indomitable  old  face 
and  the  bright  eyes,  the  Secretary  repeated,  " Run  away 
from  him  ? ” 


STRONG  OF  PURPOSE. 


409 


Yes,  sir,”  said  Betty,  with  one  nod.  And  in  the  nod 
and  in  the  firm  set  of  her  mouth,  there  was  a vigour  of 
purpose  not  to  be  doubted. 

Come,  come  ! ” said  the  Secretary.  We  must  talk 
about  this.  Let  us  take  our  time  over  it,  and  try  to  get 
at  the  true  sense  of  the  case  and  the  true  course  by 
degrees.” 

Now,  lookee  here,  my  dear,”  returned  old  Betty — 
asking  your  excuse  for  being  so  familiar,  but  being  of 
a time  of  life  a’most  to  be  j^our  grandmother  twice  over. 
Now,  lookee  here.  ^’Tis  a poor  living  and  a hard  as 
is  to  be  got  out  of  this  work  that  I’m  a doing  now,  and 
but  for  Sloppy  I don’t  know  as  I should  have  held  to  it 
this  long.  But  it  did  just  keep  us  on,  the  two  together. 
Now  that  I’m  alone — with  even  Johnny  gone — I’d  far 
sooner  be  upon  my  feet,  and  tiring  of  myself  out,  than 
a sitting  folding  and  folding  by  the  fire.  And  I’ll  tell 
you  why.  There’s  a deadness  steals  over  me  at  times, 
that  the  kind  of  life  favours,  and  I don’t  like.  Now,  I 
seem  to  have  Johnny  in  my  arms — now,  his  mother — 
now,  his  mother’s  mother — now,  I seem  to  be  a child 
myself,  a lying  once  again  in  the  arms  of  my  own 
mother — then  I get  numbed,  thought  and  senses,  till  I 
start  out  of  my  seat,  afeard  that  I’m  a growing  like  the 
poor  old  people  that  they  brick  up  in  the  Unions,  as  you 
may  sometimes  see  when  they  let  ’em  out  of  the  four 
walls  to  have  a warm  in  the  sun,  crawling  quite  scared 
a.bout  the  streets.  I was  a nimble  girl,  and  have  always 
been  a active  body,  as  I told  your  lady,  first  time  ever 
I see  her  good  face.  I can  still  walk  twenty  mile  if  I 
am  put  to  it.  I’d  far  better  be  a walking  than  a getting 
numbed  and  dreary.  I’m  a good  fair  knitter,  and  can 
make  many  little  things  to  sell.  The  loan  from  your 
lady  and  gentleman  of  twenty  shillings  to  fit  out  a 
basket  with,  would  be  a fortune  for  me.  Trudging 
round  the  country  and  tiring  of  myself  out,  I shall  keep 
the  deadness  off,  and  get  my  own  bread  by  my  own 
labour.  And  what  more  can  I want  ? ” 

'^And  this  is  your  plan,”  said  the  Secretary,  ^^for 
running  away  ?” 

Show  me  a better ! My  deary,  show  me  a better ! 
Why,  I know  very  well,”  said  old  Betty  Higden,  ''and 
you  know  very  well,  that  your  lady  and  gentleman 
would  set  me  up  like  a queen  for  the  rest  of  my  life,  if 


410 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


so  be  that  we  could  make  it  right  among  us  to  have  it 
so.  But  we  can’t  make  it  right  among  us  to  have  it  so. 
I’ve  never  took  charity  yet,  nor  yet  has  any  one  belong- 
ing to  me.  And  it  would  be  forsaking  of  myself  indeed, 
and  forsaking  of  my  children  dead  and  gone,  and  for- 
saking of  their  children  dead  and  gone,  to  set  up  a 
contradiction  now  at  last.” 

^^It  might  come  to  be  justifiable  and  unavoidable  at 
last,”  the  Secretary  gently  hinted,  with  a slight  stress 
on  the  word. 

hope  it  never  will!  It  ain’t  that  I mean  to  give  offence 
by  being  anyways  proud,”  said  the  old  creature  simply, 

but  that  I want  to  be  of  a piece  like,  and  helpful  of 
myself  right  through  to  my  death.” 

And  to  be  sure,”  added  the  Secretary,  as  a comfort 
for  her,  Sloppy  will  be  eagerly  looking  forward  to  his 
opportunity  of  being  to  you  what  you  have  been  to 
him.” 

Trust  him  for  that,  sir!”  said  Betty  cheerfully. 
''  Though  he  had  need  to  be  something  quick  about  it, 
for  I’m  getting  to  be  an  old  one.  But  I’m  a strong  one, 
too,  and  travel  and  weather  never  hurt  me  yet  ! Now, 
be  so  kind  as  speak  for  me  to  your  lady  and  gentleman, 
and  tell  ’ em  what  I ask  of  their  good  friendliness  to  let 
me  do,  and  why  I ask  it.” 

The  Secretary  felt  that  there  was  no  gainsaying  what 
was  urged  by  this  brave  old  heroine,  and  he  presently 
repaired  to  Mrs.  Boffin  and  recommended  her  to  let  Betty 
Higden  have  her ’way,  at  all  events  for  the  time.  ‘Mt 
would  be  far  more  satisfactory  to  your  kind  heart,  I 
know,”  he  said,  ^^to  provide  for  her,  but  it  may  be  a 
duty  to  respect  this  independent  spirit.”  Mrs.  Boffin 
was  not  proof  against  the  consideration  set  before  her. 
She  and  her  husband  had  worked  too,  and  had  brought 
their  simple  faith  and  honour  clean  out  of  dust-heaps. 
If  they  owed  a duty  to  Betty  Higden,  of  a surety  that 
duty  must  be  done. 

But,  Betty,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin,  when  she  accompanied 
John  Rokesmith  back  to  his  room,  and  shone  upon  her 
with  the  light  of  her  radiant  face,  granted  all  else,  I 
think  I wouldn’t  run  away.” 

^^’Twould  come  easier  to  Sloppy,'’  said  Mrs.  Higden, 
shaking  her  head.  '^’Twould  come  easier  to  me  too. 
But  ’tis  as  you  please.’^ 


STRONG  OF  PURPOSE. 


411 


When  would  you  go?  ” 

Now/’  was  the  bright  and  ready  answer.  To-day, 
my  deary,  to-morrow.  Bless  ye,  I am  used  to  it.  I know 
many  parts  of  the  country  well.  When  nothing  else 
was  to  be  done,  I have  worked  in  many  a market  gar- 
den afore  now,  and  in  many  a hop  garden  too.” 

If  I give  my  consent  to  your  going,  Betty — which 
Mr.  Rokesmith  thinks  I ought  to  do ” 

Betty  thanked  him  with  a grateful  curtsy. 

— We  must  not  lose  sight  of  you.  We  must  not  let 
you  pass  out  of  our  knowledge.  We  must  know  all  about 
you.” 

^Wes,  my  deary,  but  not  through  letter- writing,  be- 
cause letter- writing — indeed,  writing  of  most  sorts — 
hadn’t  much  come  up  for  such  as  me  when  I was  young. 
But  I shall  be  to  and  fro.  No  fear  of  my  missing  a 
chance  of  giving  myself  a sight  of  your  reviving  face. 
Besides,”  said  Betty,  with  logical  good  faith,  ‘‘1  shall 
have  a debt  to  pay  off,  by  littles,  and  naturally  that 
would  bring  me  back,  if  nothing  else  would.” 

‘‘Must  it  be  done?”  asked  Mrs.  Boffin,  still  reluctant, 
of  the  Secretary. 

I think  it  must.” 

After  more  discussion  it  was  agreed  that  it  should  be 
done^,  and  Mrs.  Boffin  summoned  Bella  to  note  down 
the  little  purchases  that  were  necessary  to  set  Betty  up 
in  trade.  Don’t  ye  be  timorous  for  me,  my  dear,”  said 
the  staunch  old  heart,  observant  of  Bella’s  face:  when 
I take  my  seat  with  my  work,  clean  and  busy  and  fresh, 
in  a country  market-place,  I shall  turn  a sixpence  as 
sure  as  ever  a farmer’s  wife  there.” 

The  Secretary  took  that  opportunity  of  touching  on 
the  practical  question  of  Mr.  Sloppy’s  capabilities.  He 
would  have  made  a wonderful  cabinet-maker,  said  Mrs. 
Higden,  if  there  had  been  the  money  to  put  him  to 
it.”  She  had  seen  him  handle  tools  that  he  had  bor- 
roVed  to  meivl  the  mangle,  or  to  knock  a broken  piece 
of  furniture  together,  in  a surprising  manner.  As  to 
constructing  toys  for  the  Minders,  out  of  nothing,  he 
had  done  that  daily.  And  once  as  many  as  a dozen 
people  had  got  together  in  the  lane  to  see  the  neatness 
with  which  he  fitted  the  broken  pieces  of  a foreign 
monkey’s  musical  instrument.  That’s  well,”  said  the 
Secretary.  It  will  not  be  hard  to  find  a trade  for  him.” 


412 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


John  Harmon  being  buried  under  mountains  now,  the 
Secretary  that  very  same  day  set  himself  to  finish  his 
afl'airs  and  have  done  with  him.  He  drew  up  an  ample 
declaration,  to  be  signed  by  Rogue  Riderhood  (knowing 
he  could  get  his  signature  to  it,  by  making  him  another 
and  much  shorter  evening  call),  and  then  considered  to 
whom  should  he  give  the  document  ? To  Hexam’s  son, 
or  daughter  ? Resolved  speedily,  to  the  daughter.  But 
it  would  be  safer  to  avoid  seeing  the  daughter,  because 
the  son  had  seen  Julius  Handford,  and — he  could  not  be 
too  careful — there  might  possibly  be  some  comparision 
of  notes  between  the  son  and  daughter,  which  would 
awaken  slumbering  suspicion,  and  lead  to  consequences. 

I might  even,’’  he  refiected,  be  apprehended  as  hav- 
ing been  concerned  in  my  own  murder  ! ” Therefore, 
best  to  send  it  to  the  daughter  under  cover  by  the  post. 
Pleasant  Riderhood  had  undertaken  to  find  out  where 
she  lived, and  it  was  not  necessary  that  it  should  be  atten- 
ded by  a single  word  of  explanation.  So  far,  straight. 

But,  all  that  he  knew  of  the  daughter  he  derived  from 
Mrs.  Boffin’s  accounts  of  what  she  heard  from  Mr. 
Lightwood,  who  seemed  to  have  a reputation  for  his 
manner  of  relating  a story,  and  to  have  made  this  story 
quite  his  own.  It  interested  him,  and  he  would  like  to 
have  the  means  of  knowing  more — as,  for  instance,  that 
she  received  the  exonerating  paper,  and  that  it  satisfied 
her — by  opening  some  channel  altogether  independent 
of  Lightwood:  who  likewise  had  seen  Julius  Handford, 
who  had  publicly  advertised  for  Julius  Handford,  and 
whom  of  all  men  he,  the  Secretary,  most  avoided. 

But  with  whom  the  common  course  of  things  might 
bring  me  in  a moment  face  to  face,  any  day  in  the  week 
or  any  hour  of  the  day.” 

Now,  to  cast  about  for  some  likely  means  of  opening 
such  a channel.  The  boy,  Hexam,  was  training  for  and 
with  a schoolmaster.  The  Secretary  knew  it,  because 
his  sister’s  share  in  that  disposal  of  him  seemed  to  •be 
the  best  part  of  Lightwood’s  account  6f  the  family. 
This  young  fellow.  Sloppy,  stood  in  need  of  some  in- 
struction. If  he,  the  Secretary,  engaged  the  school- 
master, to  impart  it  to  him,  the  channel  might  be 
opened.  The  next  point  was,  did  Mrs.  Boffin  know  the 
schoolmaster’s  name  ? No,  but  she  knew  where  the 
school  was.  Quite  enough.  Promptly,  the  Secretary 


STRONG  OF  PURPOSE. 


413 


wrote  to  the  master  of  that  school,  and  that  very  even- 
ing Bradley  Headstone  answered  in  person. 

The  Secretary  stated  to  the  schoolmaster  how  the  ob- 
ject was  to  send  to  him,  for  certain  occasional  evening 
instruction,  a youth  whom  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin  wished 
I to  help  to  an  industrious  and  useful  place  in  life.  The 
schoolmaster  was  willing  to  undertake  the  charge  of 
such  a pupil.  The  Secretary  inquired  on  what  terms  ? 
The  schoolmaster  stated  on  what  terms.  Agreed  and 
disposed  of. 

May  I ask,  sir,’’  said  Bradley  Headstone,  to  whose 
good  ojjinion  I owe  a recommendation  to  you  ?” 

You  should  know  that  I am  not  the  principal  here. 
I am  Mr.  Boffin’s  Secretary.  Mr.  Boffin  is  a gentleman 
who  inherited  a property  of  which  you  may  have  heard 
some  public  mention;  the  Harmon  property.” 

‘‘^Mr.  Harmon,”  said  Bradley:  who  would  have  been 
a great  deal  more  at  a loss  than  he  w^s,  if  he  had 
known  to  whom  he  spoke:  was  murdered  and  found 
in  the  river.” 

Was*  murdered  and  found  in  the  river.” 

It  was  not ” 

No,”  interposed  the  Secretary,  smiling,  ^‘'it  was  not 
he  who  recommended  you.  Mr.  Boffin  heard  of  you 
through  a certain  Mr.  Lightwood.  I think  you  know 
Mr.  Lightwood,  or  know  of  him  ? ” 

I know  as  much  of  him  as  I wish  to  know,  sir.  I 
have  no  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Lightwood,  and  I desire 
none.  I have  no  objection  to  Mr.  Lightwood,  but  I have 
a particular  objection  to  some  of  Mr.  Lightwood’s 
friends — in  short,  to  one  of  Mr.  Lightwood’s  friends. 
His  great  friend.” 

He  could  hardly  get  the  words  out,  even  then  and 
there,  so  fierce  did  he  grow  (though  keeping  himself 
down  with  indefinite  pains  of  repression)  when  the 
careless  and  contemptuous  bearing  of  Eugene  Wrayburn 
rose  before  his  mind. 

The  Secretary  saw  there  was  a strong  feeling  here  on 
some  sore  point,  and  he  would  have  made  a diversion 
from  it,  but  for  Bradley’s  holding  to  it  in  his  cumber- 
some way. 

I have  no  objection  to  mention  the  friend  by  name,” 
he  said,  doggedly.  The  person  I object  to,  is  Mr. 
Eugene  Wrayburn.” 


414 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


The  Secretary  remembered  him.  In  his  disturbed  rec- 
ollection of  that  night  when  he  was  striving  against 
the  drugged  drink,  there  was  but  a dim  image  of 
Eugene’s  person;  but  he  remembered  his  name,  and  his 
manner  of  speaking,  and  how  he  had  gone,  with  them 
to  view  the  body,  and  where  he  had  stood,  and  what 
he  had  said. 

Pray,  Mr.  Headstone,  what  is  the  name,”  he  asked, 
again  trying  to  make  a diversion,  ^^of  young  Hexam’s 
sister?  ” 

Her  name  is  Lizzie,”  said  the  schoolmaster,  with  a 
strong  contraction  of  his  whole  face. 

She  is  a young  \foman  of  a remarkable  character;  is 
she  not?  ” 

She  is  sufficiently  remarkable  to  be  very  superior  to 
Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn — though  an  ordinary  person 
might  be  that,”  said  the  schoolmaster;  and  I hope  you 
will  not  think  it  impertinent  in  me,  sir,  to  ask  why  you 
piit  the  two  names  together.” 

By  mere  accident,”  returned  the  Secretary.  Ob- 
serving that  Mr.  Wrayburn  was  a disagreeable  subject 
with  you,  I tried  to  get  away  from  it;  though  not  very 
successfully,  it  would  appear.” 

''Do  you  know  Mr.  Wrayburn,  sir?” 

"No.” 

"Then  perhaps  the  names  cannot  be  put  together  on 
the  authority  of  any  representation  of  his?” 

" Certainly  not.” 

" I took  the  liberty  to  ask,”  said  Bradley,  after  casting 
his  eyes  on  the  ground,  " because  he  is  capable  of 
making  any  representation,  in  the  swaggering  levity  of 
his  insolence.  I — I hope  you  will  not  misunderstand 
me,  sir.  I — I am  much  interested  in  this  brother  and 
sister,  and  the  subject  awakens  very  strong  feelings 
within  me.  Very,  very  strong  feelings.”  With  a 
shaking  hand,  Bradley  took  out  his  handkerchief  and 
wiped  his  brow. 

The  Secretary  thought,  as  he  glanced  at  the  school- 
master’s face,  that  he  had  opened  a channel  here  indeed, 
and  that  it  was  an  unexpectedly  dark  and  deep  and 
stormy  one,  and  difficult  to  sound.  All  at  once,  in  the 
midst  of  his  turbulent  emotions,  Bradley  stopped  and 
seemed  to  challenge  liis  look.  Much  as  though  he  sud- 
denly asked  him,  "What  do  you  see  in  me?” 


STRONG  OF  PURPOSE. 


415 


^^The  brother,  young  Hexam,  was  your  real  recom- 
mendation here/’  said  the  Secretary,  quietly  going  back 
to  the  point;  ''Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin  happening  to  know, 
through  Mr.  Lightwood,  that  he  was  your  pupil.  Any- 
thing that  I ask  respecting  the  brother  and  sister,  or 
either  of  them,  I ask  for  myself,  out  of  my  own  interest 
in  the  subject,  and  not  in  my  official  character,  or  on  Mr. 
Boffin’s  behalf.  How  I come  to  be  interested  I need 
not  explain.  You  know  the  father’s  connection  with 
the  discovery  of  Mr.  Harmon’s  body.” 

"Sir,”  replied  Bradley,  very  restlessly  indeed,  "I 
know  all  the  circumstances  of  that  case.” 

"Pray  tell  me,  Mr.  Headstone,”  said  the  Secretary. 
" Does  the  sister  suffer  under  any  stigma  because  of  the 
impossible  accusation — groundless  would  be  a better 
word— that  was  made  against  the  father,  and  substan- 
tially withdrawn  ? ” 

" No,  sir,”  returned  Bradley,  with  a kind  of  anger 

" I am  very  glad  to  hear  it.” 

" The  sister,”  said  Bradley,  separating  his  words  over- 
carefully,  and  speaking  as  if  he  were  repeating  them 
from  a book,  "suffers  under  no  reproach  that  repels  a 
man  of  unimpeachable  character,  who  has  made  for 
himself  every  step  of  his  way  in  life,  from  placing  her 
in  his  own  station.  I will  not  say,  raising  her  to  his 
own  station  ; I say,  placing  her  in  it.  The  sister  la-' 
hours  under  no  reproacJi,unless  she  should  unfortunately 
make  it  for  herself.  When  such  a man  is  not  deterred 
from  regarding  her  as  his  equal,  and  when  he  has  con- 
vinced himself  that  there  is  no  blemish  on  her,  I think 
the  fact  must  be  taken  to  be  pretty  expressive.” 

" And  there  is  such  a man?  ” said  the  Secretary. 

Bradley  Headstone  knotted  his  brows,  and  squared 
his  large  lower  jaw,  and  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  ground 
with  an  air  of  determination  that  seemed  unnecessary 
to  the  occasion,  as  he  replied  : " And  there  is  such  a 
man.” 

The  Secretary  had  no  reason  or  excuse  for  prolonging 
the  conversation,  and  it  ended  here.  Within  three 
hours  the  oakum-headed  apparition  once  more  dived 
into  the  Leaving  shop,  and  that  night  Rogue  Rider- 
hood’s  recantation  lay  in  the  post-office,  addressed  under 
cover  to  Lizzie  Hexam  at  her  right  address. 

All  these  proceedings  occupied  John  Rokesmith  so 


416 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


much  that  it  was  not  until  the  following  day  that  he 
saw  Bella  again.  It  seemed  then  to  be  tacitly  under- 
stood between  them  that  they  were  to  be  as  distantly 
easy  as  they  could,  without  attracting  the  attention  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin  to  any  marked  change  in  their 
manner.  The  fitting  out  of  old  Betty  Higden  was  favour- 
able to  this,  as  keeping  Bella  engaged  and  interested, 
and  as  occupying  the  general  attention. 

''  I think,”  said  Rokesmith,  when  they  all  stood  about 
her,  while  she  packed  her  tidy  basket — except  Bella, 
who  was  busily  helping  on  her  knees  at  the'  chair  on 
which  it  stood  ; '‘^that  at  least  you  might  keep  a letter 
in  your  pocket,  Mrs.  Higden,  which  I would  write  for 
you  and  date  from  here,  merely  stating,  in  the  names  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin,  that  they  are  your  friends ; — I 
won’t  say  patrons,  because  they  wouldn’t  like  it.” 

^^No,  no,  no,”  said  Mr.  Boffin;  ^^no  patronising! 
Let’s  keep  out  of  that,  whatever  we  come  to.” 

There’s  more  than  enough  of  that  about,  without 
us;  ain’t  there.  Noddy?”  said  Mrs.  Boffin. 

I believe  you,  old  lady  1”  returned  the  Golden  Dust- 
man. Overmuch,  indeed  ! ” 

But  people  sometimes  like  to  be  patronised  ; don’t 
they,  sir  ? ’’  asked  Bella,  looking  up. 

‘‘  J don’t.  And  if  they  do,  my  dear,  they  ought  to 
learn  better,”  said  Mr.  Boffin.  ‘‘Patrons  and  Patron- 
esses, and  Vice-Patrons  and  Vice-Patronesses,  and  De- 
ceased Patrons  and  Deceased  Patronesses,  and  Ex- Vice- 
Patrons  and  Ex- Vice-Patronesses,  what  does  it  all  mean 
in  the  books  of  the  Charities  that  come  pouring  in  on 
Rokesmith  as  he  sits  among  ’em  pretty  well  up  to  his 
neck  ! If  Mr.  Tom  Noakes  gives  his  five  shillings  ain’t 
he  a Patron,  and  if  Mrs.  Jack  Styles  gives  her  five  shil- 
lings ain’t  she  a Patroness  ? What  the  deuce  is  it  all 
about  ? If  it  ain’t  stark  staring  impudence,  what  do 
you  call  it  ? ” 

“ Don’t  be  warm,  Noddy,’^  Mrs.  Boffin  urged. 

“ Warm  !”  cried  Mr.  Boffin.  “ It’s  enough  to  make  a 
man  smoking  hot.  I can’t  go  anywhere  without  being 
Patronised.  I don’t  want  to  be  Patronised.  If  I buy  a 
ticket  for  a Flower  Show,  or  a Music  Show,  or  any  sort 
of  Show,  and  pay  pretty  heavy  for  it,  why  am  I to  be 
Patroned  and  Patronessed,  as  if  the  Patrons  and  Pa- 
tronesses treated  me  ? If  there’s  a good  thing  to  be 


OnT  Mutual  Friend. 


STRONG  OF  PURPOSE. 


417 


done,  can’t  it  be  done  on  its  own  merits  ? If  there’s  a 
bad  thing  to  be  done,  can  it  ever  be  Patroned  and  Pa- 
tronessed  right  ? Yet,  when  a new  Institution’s  going 
to  be  built,  it  seems  to  me  that  the  bricks  and  mortar 
ain’t  made  of  half  so  much  consequence  as  the  Patrons 
and  Patronesses  ; no,  nor  yet  the  objects.  I wish  some- 
body would  tell  me  whether  other  countries  get  Pa- 
tronised to  anything  like  the  extent  of  this  one  ! And 
as  to  the  Patrons  and  Patronesses  themselves,  I wonder 
they’re  not  ashamed  of  themselves.  They  ain’t  Pills,  or 
Hair- Washes,  or  Invigorating  Nervous  Essences,  to  be 
puffed  in  that  way  ! ” 

Having  delivered  himself  of  these  remarks,  Mr.  Boffin 
took  a trot,  according  to  his  usual  custom,  and  trotted 
back  to  the  spot  from  which  he  had  started. 

^^As  to  the  letter,  Rokesmith,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,^ ^you’re 
as  right  as  a trivet.  Give  her  the  letter,  make  her  take 
the  letter,  put  it  in  her  pocket  by  violence.  She  might 
fall  sick. — You  know  you  might  fall  sick,”  said  Mr. 
Boffin.  Don’t  deny  it,  Mrs.  Higden,  in  your  obstinacy; 
you  know  you  might.” 

Old  Betty  laughed,  and  said  that  she  would  take  the 
letter  and  be  thankful. 

‘^That’s  right!”  said  Mr.  Boffin.  ''Come!  that’s  sensi- 
ble. And  don’t  be  thankful  to  us  (for  we  never  thought 
of  it),  but  to  Mr.  Rokesmith.” 

The  letter  was  written,  and  read  to  her,  and  given  to 
her. 

" Now,  how  do  you  feel,”  said  Mr.  Boffin.  " Do  you 
like  it  ? ” 

"The  letter,  sir?”  said  Betty.  " Ay,  it’s  a beautiful 
letter!  ” 

"No,  no,  no;  not  the  letter,”  said  Mr.  Boffin;  "the 
idea.  Are  you  sure  you’re  strong  enough  to  carry  out 
the  idea?” 

" I shall  be  stronger,  and  keep  the  deadness  off  bet- 
ter, this  way,  than  any  way  left  open  to  me,  sir.”  ^ 

" Don’t  say  than  anyway  left  open,  you  know,”  urged 
Mr.  Boffin;  "because  there  are  ways  without  end.  A 
housekeeper  would  be  acceptable  over  yonder  at  the 
Bower,  for  instance.  Wouldn’t  you  like  to  see  the 
Bower,  and  know  a retired  literary  man  of  the  name  of 
Wegg  that  lives  there — with  a wooden  leg?” 

Old  Betty  was  proof  even  against  this  temptation, 
VOL.  I.  27 


418 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


and  fell  to  adjusting  her  black  bonnet  and  shawl. 

I wouldn’t  let  you  go,  now  it  comes  to  this,  after 
all,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  “if  I didn’t  hope  that  it  may  make 
a man  and  a workman  of  Sloppy  in  as  short  a time  as 
ever  a man  and  a workman  was  made  yet.  Why,  what 
have  you  got  there,  Betty?  Not  a doll?  ” 

It  was  the  man  in  the  Guards  who  had  been  on  duty 
over  Johnny’s  bed.  The  solitary  old  woman  showed 
what  it  was,  and  put  it  up  quietly  in  her  dress.  Then, 
she  gratefully  took  leave  of  Mrs.  Boffin,  and  of  Mr. 
Boffin,  and  of  Rokesmith,  and  then  put  her  old  withered 
arms  round  Bella’s  young  and  blooming  neck,  and  said, 
repeating  Johnny’s  words:  kiss  for  the  boofer 

lady.” 

The  Secretary  looked  on  from  a doorway  at  the  boofer 
lady  thus  encircled,  and  still  looked  on  at  the  boofer 
lady  standing  alone  there  when  the  determined  old 
figure  with  its  steady  bright  eyes  was  trudging  through 
the  streets,  away  from  paralysis  and  pauperism. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  WHOLE  CASE  SO  FAR. 

Bradley  headstone  held  fast  by  that  other 

interview  he  was  to  have  with  Lizzie  Hexam.  In 
stipulating  for  it,  he  had  been  impelled  by  a feeling 
little  short  of  desperation,  and  the  feeling  abided  by 
him.  It  was  very  soon  after  his  interview  with  the 
Secretary  that  he  and  Charley  Hexam  set  out  one 
leaden  evening,  not  unnoticed  by  Miss  Peecher,  to  have 
this  desperate  interview  accomplished. 

''That  doll’s  dressmaker,”  said  Bradley,  "is  favour-  I 
able'neither  to  me  nor  to  you,  Hexam.” 

"A  pert  crooked  little  chit,  Mr.  Headstone  ! I knew 
she  would  put  herself  in  the  way,  if  she  could,  and 
would  be  sure  to  strike  in  with  something  impertinent. 
It  was  on  that  account  that  I proposed  our  going  to  the 
City  to-night  and  meeting  my  sister*”  i 

"So  I supposed,”  said  Bradley,  getting  his  gloves  on  j 


THE  WHOLE  CASE  SO  FAR. 


419 


liis  nervous  hands  as  he  walked.  '‘So  I supposed.” 

“Nobody  but  my  sister,”  pursued  Charley,  “would 
have  found  out  such  an  extraordinary  companion.  She 
has  done  it  in  a ridiculous  fancy  of  giving  herself  up 
to  another.  She  told  me  so  that  night  when  we  went 
there.” 

“ Why  should  she  give  herself  up  to  the  dressmaker?” 
asked  Bradley. 

“ Oh!”  said  the  boy,  colouring.  “ One  of  her  romantic 
ideas!  I tried  to  convince  her  so,  but  I didn’t  succeed. 
However,  what  we  have  got  to  do,  is,  to  succeed  to- 
night, Mr.  Headstone,  and  then  all  the  rest  follows.” 

“You  are  still  sanguine,  Hexam.” 

“ Certainly  I am,  sir.  Why,  we  have  everything  on 
our  side.” 

“ Except  your  sister,  perhaps,”  thought  Bradley.  But 
he  only  gloomily  thought  it,  and  said  nothing. 

“Everything  on  your  side,”  repeated  the  boy  with 
boyish  confidence.  “Respectability,  an  excellent  con- 
nection for  me,  common  sense,  everything  ! ” 

“ To  be  sure,  your  sister  has  always  shown  herself  a 
devoted  sister,”  said  Bradley,  willing  to  sustain  himself 
on  even  that  low  ground  of  hope. 

“ Naturally,  Mr.  Headstone,  I have  a good  deal  of  in- 
fiuence  with  her.  And  now  that  you  have  honoured  me 
with  your  confidence  and  spoken  to  me  first,  I say  again, 
we  have  everything  on  our  side.” 

And  Bradley  thought  again,  “Except  your  sister, 
perhaps.” 

A grey,  dusty,  withered  evening  in  London  city  has 
not  a hopeful  aspect.  The  closed  warehouses  and  offices 
have  an  air  of  death  about  them,  and  the  national  dread 
of  colour  has  an  air  of  mourning.  The  towers  and 
steeples  of  the  many  house-encompassed  churches,  dark 
and  dingy  as  the  sky  that  seems  descending  on  them, 
are  no  relief  to  the  general  gloom;  a sun-dial  on  a 
church-wall  has  the  look,  in  its  useless  black  shade,  of 
having  failed  in  its  business  enterprise  and  stopped 
payment  for  ever;  melancholy  waifs  and  strays  of  house- 
keepers and  porters  sweep  melancholy  waifs  and 
strays  of  papers  and  pins  into  the  kennels,  and  other 
more  melancholy  waifs  and  strays  explore  them, 
searching  and  stooping  and  poking  for  anything  to  sell. 
The  set  of  humanity  outward  from  the  City  is  a set  of 


420 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


prisoners  departing  from  goal,  and  dismal  Newgate 
sems  quite  as  fit  a stronghold  for  the  mighty  Lord 
Mayor  as  his  own  state  dwelling. 

On  such  an  evening,  when  the  city  grit  gets  into  the 
hair  and  eyes  and  skin,  and  when  the  fallen  leaves  of 
the  few  unhappy  City  trees  grind  down  in  corners 
under  wheels  of  wind,  the  schoolmaster  and  the  pupil 
emerged  upon  the  Leadenhall  Street  region,  spying 
eastward  for  Lizzie.  Being  something  too  soon  in  their 
arrival,  they  lurked  at  a corner,  waiting  for  her  to  ap- 
pear. The  best-looking  among  us  will  not  look  very 
well  lurking  at  a corner,  and  Bradley  came  out  of 
that  disadvantage  very  poorly  indeed. 

Here  she  comes,  Mr.  Headstone  ! Let  us  go  forward 
and  meet  her.” 

As  they  advanced,  she  saw  them  coming,  and  seemed 
rather  troubled.  But  she  greeted  her  brother  with  the 
usual  warmth,  and  touched  the  extended  hand  of 
Bradley. 

^^Why,  where  are  you  going,  Charley,  dear?”  she 
asked  him  then. 

Nowhere.  We  came  on  purpose  to  meet  you.” 

^^To  meet  me,  Charley  ?” 

‘‘Yes,  We  are  going  to  walk  with  you.  But  don’t 
let  us  take  the  great  leading  streets  where  every 
one  walks,  and  we  can’t  hear  ourselves  speak.  Let 
us  go  by  the  quiet  backways.  Here’s  a large  paved 
court  by  this  church,  and  quiet,  too.  Let  us  go  up 
here.” 

But  it’s  not  in  the  way,  Charley.” 

“Yet  it  is,”  said  the  boy,  petulantly.  ^^It’s  in  my 
way,  and  my  way  is  yours.” 

She  had  not  released  his  hand,  and  still  holding  it, 
looked  at  him  with  a kind  of  appeal.  He  avoided  her 
eyes,  under  pretence  of  saying,  ‘^Come  along,  Mr. 
Headstone.”  Bradley  walked  at  his  side — not  at  hers — 
and  the  brother  and  sister  walked  hand  in  hand.  The 
court  brought  them  to  a churchyard  ; a paved  square 
court,  with  a raised  bank  of  earth  about  breast  high, 
in  the  middle,  enclosed  by  iron  rails.  Here,  conveniently 
and  healthfully  elevated  above  the  level  of  the  living, 
were  the  dead  and  the  tombstones  ; some  of  the  latter 
droopingly  inclined  from  the  perpendicular,  as  if  they 
were  ashamed  of  the  lies  they  told.  


THE  WHOLE  CASE  SO  FAR. 


421 


They  paced  the  whole  of  this  place  once,  in  a con- 
strained and  uncomfortable  manner,  when  the  boy  stop- 
ped and  said  : 

Lizzie,  Mr.  Headstone  has  something  to  say  to  you. 
I doiTt  wish  to  be  an  interruption  either  to  him  or  to 
you,  and  so  ITl  go  and  take  a little  stroll,  and  come  back. 
I know  in  a general  way  what  Mr.  Headstone  intends 
to  say,  and  I very  highly  approve  of  it,  as  I hope — and 
indeed  I do  not  doubt — you  will.  I needn’t  tell  you, 
Lizzie,  that  I am  under  great  obligations  to  Mr.  Head- 
stone, and  that  I am  very  anxious  for  Mr.  Headstone  to 
succeed  in  all  he  undertakes.  As  I hope — and  as,  in- 
deed, I don’t  doubt — you  must  be.” 

Charley,”  returned  his  sister,  detaining  his  hand  as 
he  withdrew  it,  1 think  you  had  better  stay.  I think 
Mr.  Headstone  had  better  not  say  what  he  thinks  of 
saying.” 

Why,  how  do  you  know^  what  it  is  ?”  returned  the  boy. 

Perhaps  I don’t,  but — ” 

Perhaps  you  don’t  ? No,  Liz,  I should  think  not.  If 
you  knew  what  it  was,  you  would  give  me  a very  dif- 
ferent answer.  There  ; let  go  ; be  sensible.  I wonder 
you  don’t  remember  that  Mr.  Headstone  is  looking  ou.” 

She  allowed  him  to  separate  himself  from  her,  and  he, 
after  saying,  Now,  Liz,  be  a rational  girl  and  a good 
sister,”  walked  away.  She  remained  standing  alone 
with  Bradley  Headstone,  and  it  was  not  until  she  raised 
her  eyes  that  he  spoke. 

said,”  he  began,  when  I saw  you  last,  that  there 
was  something  unexplained,  which  might  perhaps  influ- 
ence you.  I have  come  this  evening  to  explain  it.  I 
hope  you  will  not  judge  of  me  by  my  hesitating  manner 
when  I speak  to  you.  You  see  me  at  my  greatest  disad- 
vantage. It  is  most  unfortunate  for  me  that  I wish  you 
to  see  me  at  my  best,  and  that  I know  you  see  me  at  my 
worst.” 

She  moved  slov/ly  on  when  he  paused,  and  he  moved 
slowly  on  beside  her. 

It  seems  egotistical  to  beg  in  by  saying  so  much  about 
myself,”  he  resumed,  but  whatever  I say  to  you  seems, 
even  in  my  own  ears,  below  what  I want  to  say,  and 
different  from  what  I want  to  say.  I can’t  help  it.  So 
it  is.  You  are  the  ruin  of  me.” 

She  started  at  the  passionate  sound  of  the  last  words. 


423 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


and  at  the  passionate  action  of  his  hands  with  which 
they  were  accompanied. 

Yes  ! you  are  the  ruin — the  ruin — the  ruin — of  me. 

I have  no  resource  in  myself,  I have  no  confidence  in 
myself,  I have  no  government  of  myself  when  you  are 
near  me  or  in  my  thoughts.  And  you  are  always  in  my 
thoughts  now.  I have  never  been  quit  of  you  since  I 
first  saw  you.  Oh,  that  was  a wretched  day  for  me  ! 
That  was  a wretched,  miserable  day  ! ’’ 

A touch  of  pity  for  him,  mingled  with  her  dislike  of 
him,  and  she  said  ; Mr.  Headstone,  I am  grieved  to 
have  done  you  any  harm,  but  I have  never  meant  it.” 

^^There!”he  cried  despairingly.  ^^Now  I seem  to 
have  reproached  you,  instead  of  revealing  to  you  the 
state  of  my  own  mind  ! Bear  with  me.  I am  always 
wrong  when  you  are  in  question.  It  is  my  doom.” 

Struggling  with  himself,  and  by  times  looking  up  at 
the  deserted  windows  of  the  houses,  as  if  there  could 
be  anything  written  in  their  grimy  panes  that  would 
help  him,  he  paced  the  whole  pavement  at  her  side 
before  he  spoke  again. 

I must  try  to  give  expression  to  what  is  in  my  mind; 
it  ‘shall  and  must  be  spoken.  Though  you  see  me  so 
confounded — though  you  strike  me  so  helpless — I ask 
you  to  believe  that  there  are  many  people  who  think 
well  of  me  ; that  there  are  some  people  who  highly  es- 
teem me  ; that  I have  in  my  way  won  a station  which 
is  considered  worth  winning.’’ 

Surely,  Mr;  Headstone,  I do  believe  it.  Surely  I 
have  always  known  it  from  Charley.” 

ask  you  to  believe  that  if  I were  to  offer  my  home  I 
such  as  it  is,  my  station  such  as  it  is,  my  affections 
such  as  they  are,  to  any  one  of  the  best  considered,  and 
best  qualified,  and  most  distinguished,  among  the 
young  women  engaged  in  my  calling,  they  would 
probably  be  accepted.  Even  readily  accepted.” 

^^I  do  not  doubt  it,”  said  Lizzie,  with  her  eyes  upon  I 
the  ground.  ’ [ 

^ ^ I have  sometimes  had  it  in  my  thoughts  to  make  that  I 
offer,  and  to  settle  down,  as  many  men  of  my  class  do  : |j 
I on  the  one  side  of  a school,  my  wife  on  the  other, 
both  of  us  interested  in  the  same  work.” 

Why  have  you  not  done  so  ? ” asked  Lizzie  Hexam. 
Why  do  you  not  do  so  ? ” 


THE  WHOLE  CASE  SO  FAR. 


433 


“ Far  better  that  I never  did  ! The  only  one  grain  of 
comfort  I have  had  these  many  weeks,”  he  said,  always 
speaking  passionately,  and,  when  most  emphatic,  re- 
peating that  former  action  of  his  hands,  which  was 
like  flinging  his  heart’s  blood  down  before  her  in  drops 
upon  the  pavement  stones  ; “the  only  one  grain  of  com- 
fort I have  had  these  many  weeks  is  that  I never  did. 
For  if  I had,  and  if  the  same  spell  had  come  upon  me 
for  my  ruin,  I know  I should  have  broken  that  tie 
asunder  as  if  it  had  been  thread.” 

She  glanced  at  him  with  a glance  of  fear,  and  a 
shrinking  gesture.  He  answered  as  if  she  had  spoken. 

“ Ho  ! It  would  not  have  been  voluntary  on  my  part, 
any  more  than  it  is  voluntary  in  me  to  be  here  now. 
You  draw  me  to  you.  If  I were  shut  up  in  a strong 
prison,  you  would  draw  me  out.  I should  break  through 
the  wall  to  come  to  you.  If  I were  lying  on  a sick  bed, 
you  would  draw  me  up— to  stagger  to  your  feet  and  fall 
there.” 

The  wild  energy  of  the  man,  now  quite  let  loose,  was 
absolutely  terrible.  He  stopped  and  laid  his  hand  upon 
a piece  of  the  coping  of  the  burial-ground  enclosure,  as 
if  he  would  have  dislodged  the  stone. 

“Homan  knows  till  the  time  comes,  what  depths  are 
within  him.  To  some  men  it  never  comes  ; let  them 
rest  and  be  thankful ! To  me,  you  brought  it ; on  me, 
you  forced  it ; and  the  bottom  of  this  raging  sea,”  strik- 
ing himself  upon  the  breast,  “ has  been  heaved  up  ever 
since.’^ 

“Mr.  Headstone,  I have  heard  enough.  Let  me  stop 
jmu  here.  It  will  be  better  for  you  and  better  for  me. 
Let  us  find  my  brother.” 

“Hot  yet.  It  shall  and  must  be  spoken.  I have  been 
in  torments  ever  since  I stopped  short  of  it  before.  You 
are  alarmed.  It  is  another  of  my  miseries  that  i can- 
not speak  to  you,  or  speak  of  you,  v/ithout  stumbling  at 
every  syllable,  unless  I let  the  check  go  altogether,  and 
run  mad  Here  is  a man  lighting  the  lamps.  He  will 
he  gone  directly.  I entreat  of  you  let  us  walk  round 
this  place  again.  You  have  no  reason  to  look  alarmed* 

I can  restrain  myself,  and  I will.” 

She  yielded  to  the  entreaty — how  could  she  do  other- 
and  they  paced  the  stones  in  silence.  One  by 
one  the  lights  leaped  up  making  the  cold  grey  church 


424 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


tower  more  remote,  and  they  were  alone  again.  He 
said  no  more  until  they  had  regained  the  spot  where  he 
had  broken  off ; there,  he  again  stood  still,  and  again 
grasped  the  stone.  In  saying  what  he  said  then,  he 
never  looked  at  her ; but  looked  at  it  and  wrenched 
at  it. 

You  know  what  I am  going  to  say.  I love  you.  What 
other  men  may  mean  when  they  use  that  expression,  I 
cannot  tell;  what  I mean  is^  that  I am  under  the  influence 
of  some  tremendous  attraction  which  I have  resisted  in 
vain,  and  which  overmasters  me.  You  could  draw  me 
to  Are,  you  could  draw  me  to  water,  you  could  draw  me 
to  the  gallows,  you  could  draw  me  to  any  death,  you 
could  draw  me  to  anything  I have  most  avoided,  you 
could  draw  me  to  any  exposure  and  disgrace.  This 
and  the  confusion  of  my  thoughts,  so  that  I am  fit  for 
nothing,  is  what  I mean  by  your  being  the  ruin  of  me. 
But  if  you  would  return  a favourable  answer  to  my  offer 
of  myself  in  marriage,  you  could  draw  me  to  any  good 
— every  good — with  equal  force.  My  circumstances  are 
quite  easy,  and  you  would  want  for  nothing.  My  repu- 
tation stands  quite  high,  and  would  be  a shield  for 
yours.  If  you  saw  me  at  my  work,  able  to  do  it  well, 
and  respected  in  it,  you  might  even  come  to  take  a sort 
of  pride  in  me  ; I would  try  hard  that  you  should. 
Whatever  considerations  I may  have  thought  of  against 
this  offer,  I have  conquered,  and  I make  it  with  all  my 
heart.  Your  brother  favours  me  to  the  utmost,  and  it 
is  likely  that  we  might  live  and  work  together ; any- 
how, it  is  certain  that  he  would  have  my  best  influence 
and  support.  I don’t  know  that  I could  say  more  if  I 
tried.  I might  only  weaken  what  is  ill  enough  said  as 
it  is.  I only  add  that  if  it  is  any  claim  on  you  to  be 
in  earnest,  I am  in  thorough  earnest,  dreadful  earnest.” 

The  powdered  mortar  from  under  the  stone  at  which  he 
wrenched,  rattled  on  the  pavement  to  confirm  his  words. 

‘'Mr.  Headstone ” 

“Stop!  I implore  you,  before  you  answer  me,  to 
walk  round  this  place  once  more.  It  will  give  you  a 
minute’s  time  to  think,  and  me  a minute’s  time  to  get 
some  fortitude  together.” 

Again  she  yielded  to  the  entreaty,  and  again  they 
came  back  to  the  same  place,  and  again  he  worked  at 
the  stone. 


THE  WHOLE  CASE  SO  FAR  425 

it,”  he  said,  with  his  attention  apparently  en- 
grossed by  it,  yes,  or  no?” 

‘^Mr.  Headstone,  I thank  you  sincerely,  I thank 
you  gratefully,  and  hope  you  may  find  a worthy  wife 
before  long  and  be  very  happy.  But  it  is  no.” 

Is  no  short  time  necessary  for  reflection;  no  weeks 
or  days  ?”  he  asked,  in  the  same  half-suffocated 
way. 

''None  whatever.” 

"Are  you  quite  decided,  and  is  there  no  chance  of 
any  change  in  my  favour  ? ” 

"lam  quite  decided,  Mr.  Headstone,  and  I am  bound 
to  answer  I am  certain  there  is  none.” 

"Then,”  said  he,  suddenly  abandoning  his  tone  and 
turning  to  her,  and  bringing  his  clenched  hand  down 
upon  the  stone  with  a force  that  laid  the  knuckles  raw 
and  bleeding ; "then  I hope  that  I may  never  kill 
him. 

The  dark  look  of  hatred  and  revenge  with  which  the 
words  broke  from  his  livid  lips,  and  with  which  he  stood 
holding  out  his  smeared  hand  as  if  it  held  some  weap- 
on  ^nd  had  just  struck  a mortal  blow,  made  her  so 
atraid  of  him  that  she  turned  to  run  away.  But  he 
caught  her  by  the  arm. 

Mr.  Headstone,  let  me  go.  Mr.  Headstone,  I must 
call  for  help.” 

"It  is  I who  should  call  for  help,”  he  said;  'Wou 
don  t know  yet  how  much  I need  it.” 

The  working  of  his  face  as  she  shrank  from  it,  glanc- 
ing round  for  her  brother  and  uncertain  what  to  do, 
might  have  extorted  a cry  from  her  in  another  instant ; 
but  all  at  once  he  sternly  stopped  it  and  fixed  it,  as  if 
Beath  itself  had  done  so. 

There  ! You  see  I have  recovered  myself.  Hear 
me  out.” 

With  much  of  the  dignity  of  courage,  as  she  recalled 
her  self-reliant  life  and  her  right  to  be  free  from  ac- 
countability to  this  man,  she  released  her  arm  from  his 
grasp,  and  stood  looking  full  at  him.  She  had  never 
been  so  handsome  in  his  eyes.  A shade  came  over 
them  while  he  looked  back  at  her,  as  if  she  drew  the 
very  light  out  of  them  to  herself. 

This  time,  at  least,  I will  leave  nothing  unsaid,”  he 
went  on,  folding  his  hands  before  him,  clearly  to  pre- 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

vent  his  being  betrayed  into  any  impetuous  gesture  ; 

this  last  time  at  least  I will  not  be  tortured  with  after- 
thoughts of  a lost  opportunity.  Mr.  Eugene  Wray- 
burn.’’ 

^^Was  it  of  him  you  spoke  in  your  ungovernable 
rage  and  violence  ? ” Lizzie  Hexam  demanded,  with 
spirit. 

He  bit  his  lip,  and  looked  at  her,  and  said  never  a 
word. 

Was  it  Mr.  Wrayburn  that  you  threatened 

He  bit  his  lip  again,  and  looked  at  her,  and  said  never 
a word. 

^Wou  asked  me  to  hear  you  out,  and  you  will  not 
speak.  Let  me  find  my  brother.’’ 

''  Stay  ! I threatened  no  one.” 

Her  look  dropped  for  an  instant  to  his  bleeding  hand. 
He  lifted  it  to  his  mouth,  wiped  it  on  his  sleeve,  and 
again  folded  it  over  the  other.  ‘^Mr.  Eugene  Wray- 
burn,” he  repeated. 

‘AVhy  do  you  mention  that  name  again  and  again, 
Mr.  Headstone?”  v 

Because  it  is  the  text  of  the  little  I have  left  to  say. ' 
Observe!  There  are  no  threats  in  it.  If  I utter  a threat, 
stop  me,  and  fasten  it  upon  me.  Mr.  Eugene  Wray- 
burn.” 

A worse  threat  than  was  conveyed  in  his  manner  of 
uttering  the  name  could  hardly  have  escaped  him. 

He  haunts  you.  You  accept  favours  from  him. 
You  are  willing  enough  to  listen  to  him,  I know  it,  as 
well  as  he  does.” 

‘^Mr.  Wrayburn  has  been  considerate  and  good  to 
me,  sir,”  said  Lizzie  proudly,  in  connection  with  the  , 
death  and  with  the  memory  of  my  poor  father.” 

No  doubt.  He  is,  of  course,  a very  considerate  and  i 
a very  good  man,  Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn.”  ; 

He  is  nothing  to  you,  I think,”  said  Lizzie,  with  an  i 
indignation  she  could  not  repress.  i 

Oh  yes,  he  is!  There  you  mistake.  He  is  much  to  ;; 
me.”  i 

What  can  he  be  to  you?”  ^ 

He  can  be  a rival  to  me  among  other  things,”  said  |« 
Bradley.  i 

Mr.  Headstone,”  returned  Lizzie,  with  a burning  j; 
face,  it  is  cowardly  in  you  to  sf)eak  to  me  in  this  way.  i 


THE  WHOLE  CASE  SO  EAK 


427 


But  it  makes  me  able  to  tell  you  that  I do  not  like  you, 
and  that  I never  have  liked  you  from  the  first,  and  that 
no  other  living  creature  has  anything  to  do  with  the 
effect  you  have  produced  upon  me  for  yourself.” 

His  head  bent  for  a moment,  as  if  under  a weight,  and 
he  then  looked  up  again,  moistening  his  lips.  was 
going  on  with  the  little  I had  left  to  say.  I knew  all 
this  about  Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn,  all  the  while  you 
were  drawing  me  to  you.  I strove  against  the  knowl- 
edge, but  quite  in  vain.  It  made  no  difference  in  me. 
With  Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn  in  my  mind,  I went  on. 
With  Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn  in  my  mind,  I spoke  to 
you  just  now.  With  Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn  in  my 
mind,  I have  been  set  aside  and  I have  been  cast  out.” 

'Hf  you  give  those  names  to  my  thanking  you  for 
your  proposal  and  declining  it,  is  it  my  fault,  Mr.  Head- 
stone?” said  Lizzie;  compassionating  the  bitter  struggle 
he  could  not  conceal,  almost  as  much  as  she  was  repel- 
led and  alarmed  by  it.  * ' 

am  not  complaining,”  he  returned,  ^‘1  am  only 
stating  the  case.  I had  to  wrestle  with  my  self-respect 
when  I submitted  to  be  drawn  to  you  in  spite  of  Mr. 
Wrayburn.  You  may  imagine  how  low  my  self-respect 
lies  now.” 

She  was  hurt  and  angry;  but  repressed  herself  in  con- 
sideration of  his  suffering,  and  of  his  being  her  brother’s 
friend. 

/‘And  it  lies  under  his  feet,”  said  Bradley,  unfolding 
his  hands  in  spite  of  himself,  and  fiercely  motioning 
with  them  both  towards  the  stones  of  the  pavement. 
“ Remember  that!  It  lies  under  that  fellow’s  foot,  and 
he  treads  upon  it  and  exults  above  it.” 

“He  does  not!”  said  Lizzie. 

“He  does!”  said  Bradley.  “I  have  stood  before  him 
face  to  face,  and  he  crushed  me  down  in  the  dirt  of  his 
contempt,  and  walked  over  me.  Why  ? Because  he 
knew  with  triumph  what  was  in  store  for  me  to-night.” 

“Oh,  Mr.  Headstone,  you  talk  quite  wildly.’' 

“Quite  collectedly.  I know  what  I say  too  well. 
Now  I have  said  all.  I have  used  no  threat,  remember; 
I have  done  no  more  than  shovv^  you  how  the  case 
stands; — how  the  case  stands,  so  far.” 

At  this  moment  her  brother  sauntered  into  view  close 
by.  She  darted  to  him,  and  caught  him  by  the  hand. 


428 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Bradley  followed,  and  laid  his  heavy  hand  on  the  boy’s 
opposite  shoulder. 

“ Charley  Hexam,  I am  going  home.  I must  walk 
home  by  myself  to-night,  and  get  shut  up  in  my  room 
without  being  spoken  to.  Give  me  half  an  hour’s  start, 
and  let  me  be,  till  you  find  me  at  my  work  in  the  morn- 
ing. I shall  be  at  my  work  in  the  morning  just  as  usual.” 

Clasping  his  hands,  he  uttered  a short,  unearthly, 
broken  cry,  and  went  his  way.  The  brother  and  sister 
were  left  looking  at  one  another  near  a lamp  in  the 
solitary  churchyard,  and  the  boy’s  face  clouded  and 
darkened  as  he  said  in  a rough  tone  : What  is  the 
meaning  of  this  ? What  have  you  done  to  my  best 
friend  ? Out  with  the  truth  ! ” 

''  Charley!  ” said  his  sister.  ''  Speak  a little  more  con- 
siderately!” 

am  not  in  the  humour  for  consideration,  or  for 
nonsense  of  any  sort,”  replied  the  boy.  ''What  have  you 
been  doing  ? Why  has  Mr.  Headstone  gone  from  us  in 
that  way  ? ” 

"He  asked  me — you  know  he  asked  me — to  be  his 
wife,  Charley.” 

"Well  ?”  said  the  boy,  impatiently. 

"And  I was  obliged  to  tell  him  that  I could  not  be 
his  wife.” 

"You  were  obliged  to  tell  him,”  repeated  the  boy 
angrily,  between  his  teeth,  and  rudely  pushing  her  away. 
"You  were  obliged  to  tell  him!  Do  you  know  that  he  is 
worth  fifty  of  you  ?” 

"It  may  easily  be  so,  Charley,  but  I cannot  marry 
him.” 

"You  mean  that  you  are  conscious  that  you  can’t  ap- 
preciate him,  and  don’t  deserve  him,  I suppose  ? ” 

"I  mean  that  I do  not  like  him,  Charley,  and  that 
I will  never  marry  him.” 

" Upon  my  soul,”  exclaimed  the  boy,  " you  are  a nice 
picture  of  a sister!  Upon  my  soul,  you  are  a pretty  piece 
of  disinterestedness!  And  so  all  my  endeavours  to  can- 
cel the  past  and  to  raise  myself  in  the  world,  and  to 
raise  you  with  me,  are  to  be  beaten  down  by  your  low 
whims;  are  they  ?” 

"I  will  not  reproach  you,  Charley.” 

" Hear  her!  ” exclaimed  the  boy,  looking  round  at  the 
darkness.  " She  won’t  reproach  me!  She  does  her  best 


THE  WHOLE  CASE  SO  FAR. 


429 


to  destroy  my  fortunes  and  her  own,  and  she  won’t  re- 
proach me!  Why,  you’ll  tell  me,  next,  that  you  won’t 
reproach  Mr.  Headstone  for  coming  out  of  the  sphere  to 
which  he  is  an  ornament,  and  putting  himself  at  your 
feet,  to  be  rejected  by  you!^^ 

''No,  Charley;  I will  only  tell  you,  as  I told  himself, 
that  I thank  him  for  doing  so,  tha.t  I am  sorry  he  did  so, 
and  that  I hope  he  will  do  much  better,  and  be  happy.” 

Some  touch  of  compunction  smote  the  boy’s  harden- 
ing heart  as  he  looked  upon  her,  his  patient  little  nurse 
in  infancy,  his  patient  friend,  adviser,  and  reclaimer  in 
boyhood,  the  self -forgetting  sister  who  had  done  every- 
thing for  him.  His  tone  relented,  and  he  drew  her  arm 
through  his. 

"Now,  come,  Liz  ; don’t  let  us  quarrel:  let  us  be  rea- 
sonable and  talk  this  over  like  brother  and  sister.  Will 
you  listen  to  me?” 

" Oh,  Charley,  ” she  replied  through  her  starting 
tears;  "do  I not  listen  to  you  and  bear  many  hard 
things ! ” 

"Then  I am  sorry.  There,  Liz!  I am  unfeignedly 
sorry.  Only  you  do  put  me  out  so.  Now  see.  Mr.  Head- 
stone is  perfectly  devoted  to  you.  He  has  told  me  in  the 
strongest  manner  that  he  has  never  been  his  old  self  for 
one  single  minute  since  I first  brought  him  to  see  you.- 
Miss  Peecher,  our  schoolmistress — pretty  and  young, 
and  all  that — is  known  to  be  very  much  attached  to 
him,  and  he  won’t  so  much  as  look  at  her  or  hear  of 
her.  Now,  his  devotion  to  you  must  be  a disinterested 
one;  mustn’t  it?  If  he  married  Miss  Peecher,  he  would 
be  a great  deal  better  off  in  all  worldly  respects  than 
in  marrying  you.  Well,  then,  he  has  nothing  to  ^et  by 
it,  has  he  ? ” 

" Nothing,  Heaven  knows!  ” 

"Very  well,  then,”  said  the  boy;  "that’s  something 
in  his  favour,  and  a great  thing.  Then  I come  in.  Mr. 
Headstone  has  always  got  me  on,  and  he  has  a good 
deal  in  his  power,  and  of  course  if  he  was  my  brother- 
in-law  he  wouldn’t  get  me  on  less,  but  would  get  me  on 
more.  Mr.  Headstone  comes  and  confides  in  me,  in  a 
very  delicate  way,  and  says,  ' I hope  my  marrying  your 
sister  would  be  agreeable  to  you,  Hexam,  and  useful  to 
you?’  I say,  'There’s  nothing  in  the  world,  Mr.  Head- 
stone, that  I could  be  better  pleased  with.  ’ Mr. 


430 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Headstone  says,  ^ Then  I may  rely  upon  your  intimate 
knowledge  of  me  for  your  good  word  with  your  sister, 
Hexam?’  And  I say,  'Certainly,  Mr.  Headstone,  and 
naturally  I have  a good  deal  of  interest  with  her.’  So  I 
have;  haven’t  I,  Liz?” 

" Yes,  Charley.” 

"Well  said  ! Now,  you  see,  we  begin  to  get  on,  the 
moment  we  begin  to  be  really  talking  it  over  like  broth- 
er and  sister.  Very  well.  Then  you  come  in.  As  Mr. 
Headstone’s  wife  you  would  be  occupying  a most  re- 
spectable station,  and  you  Avould  be  holding  a far  better 
place  in  society  than  you  hold  now,  and  you  would  at 
length  get  quit  of  the  river-side  and  the  old  disagree- 
ables belonging  to  it,  and  you  would  be  rid  for  good  of 
dolls’  dressmakers  and  their  drunken  fathers,  and  the 
like  of  that.  Not  that  I want  to  disparage  Miss  Jenny 
Wren:  I dare  say  she  is  all  very  well  in  her  way;  but 
her  way  is  not  your  way  as  Mr.  Headstone’s  wife. 
Now,  you  see,  Liz,  on  all  three  accounts — on  Mr.  Head- 
stone’s, on  mine,  on  yours — nothing  could  be  better  or 
more  desirable.” 

They  were  walking  slowly  as  the  boy  spoke,  and  here 
he  stood  still,  to  see  what  effect  he  had  made.  His  sis- 
ter’s eyes  were  fixed  upon  him ; but  as  they  showed  no 
.yielding,  and  as  she  remained  silent,  he  walked  her  on 
again.  There  was  some  discomfiture  in  his  tone  as  he 
resumed,  though  he  tried  to  conceal  it. 

" Having  so  much  infiuence  with  you,  Liz,  as  I have, 
perhaps  I should  have  done  better  to  have  had  a little 
chat  with  you  in  the  first  instance,  before  Mr.  Head- 
stone spoke  for  himself.  But  really  all  this  in  his 
favour  seemed  so  plain  and  undeniable,  and  I knew 
you  to  have  always  been  so  reasonable  and  sensible, 
that  I didn’t  consider  it  worth  while.  Very  likely  that 
was  a mistake  of  mine.  However,  it’s  soon  set  right. 
All  that  need  be  done  to  set  it  right  is  for  you  to  tell  me 
at  once  that  I may  go  home  and  tell  Mr.  Headstone 
that  what  has  taken  place  is  not  final,  and  that  it  will 
all  come  right  by-and-by.” 

He  stopped  again.  The  pale  face  looked  anxiously 
and  lovingly  at  him,  but  she  shook  her  head. 

" Can’t  you  speak  ?”  said  the  boy  sharply. 

"I  am  very  unwilling  to  speak,  Charley.  If  I must, 
I must.  I cannot  authorise  you  to  say  any  such  thing 


THE  WHOLE  CASE  SO  FAR. 


431 


to  Mr.  Headstone  : I cannot  allow  you  to  say  any  such 
thing  to  Mr.  Headstone.  Nothing  remains  to  be  said 
to  him  from  me,  after  what  I have  said,  for  good  and 
all,  to-night.’’ 

And  this  girl,”  cried  the  boy,  contemptuously  throw- 
ing her  off  again,  calls  herself  a sister  ! ” 

Charley,  dear,  that  is  the  second  time  that  you  have 
almost  struck  me.  Don’t  be  hurt  by  my  words.  I don’t 
mean — Heaven  forbid  ! — that  you  intended  it ; but  you 
hardly  know  with  what  a sudden  swing  you  removed 
yourself  from  me.” 

However  ! ” said  the  boy,  taking  no  heed  of  the  re- 
monstrance, and  pursuing  his  own  mortified  disappoint- 
ment, I know  what  this  means,  and  you  shall  not  dis- 
grace me  ! ” 

‘Ht  means  what  I have  told  you,  Charley,  and  noth- 
ing more.” 

That’s  not  true,”  said  the  boy  in  an  violent  tone, 
and  you  know  it’s  not.  It  means  your  precious  Mr. 
Wrayburn  ; that’s  what  it  means.” 

Charley  ! If  you  remember  any  old  days  of  ours 
together,  forbear  ! ” 

But  you  shall  not  disgrace  me,”  doggedly  pursued 
the  boy.  I am  determined  that  after  I have  climbed 
up  out  of  the  mire,  you  shall  not  pull  me  down.  You 
can’t  disgrace  me  if  I have  nothing  to  do  with  you, 
and  I will  have  nothing  to  do  with  you  for  the  future.” 

Charley  ! On  many  a night  like  this,  and  many  a 
worse  night,  I have  sat  on  the  stones  of  the  street,  hush- 
ing you  in  my  arms.  Unsay  those  words  without 
even  saying  you  are  sorry  for  them,  and  my  arms  are 
open  to  you  still,  and  so  is  my  heart.” 

I’ll  not  unsay  them.  I’ll  say  them  again.  You  are 
an  inveterately  bad  girl,  and  a false  sister,  and  I have 
done  with  you.  For  ever,  I have  done  with  you  ! ” 

He  threw  up  his  ungrateful  and  ungracious  hand  as 
if  it  set  up  a barrier  between  them,  and  flung  himself 
upon  his  heel  and  left  her.  She  remained  impassive  on 
the  same  spot,  silent  and  motionless,  until  the  striking 
of  the  church  clock  roused  her,  and  she  turned  away. 
But  then,  with  the  breaking  up  of  her  immobility  came 
the  breaking  up  of  the  waters  that  the  cold  heart  of  the 
selfish  boy  had  frozen.  And  ^^Oh,  that  I were  lying 
here  with  the  dead  !”  and  Oh,  Charley,  Charley,  that 


. 432 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


this  should  be  the  end  of  our  pictures  in  the  fire!  ” were 
all  the  words  she  said,  as  she  laid  her  face  in  her  hands 
on  the  stone  coping. 

A figure  passed  by,  and  passed  on,  but  stopped  and 
looked  round  at  her.  It  was  the  figure  of  an  old  man 
with  a bowed  head,  wearing  a large-brimmed  low- 
crowned  hat,  and  a long-skirted  coat.  After  hesitating 
a little,  the  figure  turned  back,  and,  advancing  with 
an  air  of  gentleness  and  compassion,  said  : 

Pardon  me,  young  woman,  for  speaking  to  you,  but 
you  are  under  some  distress  of  mind.  I cannot  pass 
upon  my  way  and  leave  you  weeping  here  alone,  as  if 
there  was  nothing  in  the  place.  Can  I help  you  ? Can 
I do  anything  to  give  you  comfort 

She  raised  her  head  at  the  sound  of  these  kind  words, 
and  answered  gladly,  Oh,  Mr.  Riah,  is  it  you  ? 

^^My  daughter,”  said  the  old  man,  stand  amazed  I 
I spoke  as  to  a stranger.  Take  my  arm,  take  my  arm. 
What  grieves  you?  Who  has  done  this?  Poor  girl, 
poor  girl ! ” 

My  brother  has  quarrelled  with  me,”  sobbed  Lizzie, 
^^and  renounced  me.” 

''  He  is  a thankless  dog,”  said  the  Jew,  angrily.  Let 
him  go.  Shake  the  dust  from  thy  feet,  and  let  him  go. 
Come,  daughter!  Come  home  with  me — it  is  but  across 
the  road — and  take  a little  time  to  recover  your  peace 
and  to  make  your  eyes  seemly,  and  then  I will  bear 
you  company  through  the  streets.  For  it  is  past  your 
usual  time,  and  will  soon  be  late,  and  the  way  is  long, 
and  there  is  much  company  out  of  doors  to-night.” 

She  accepted  the  support  he  offered  her,  and  they 
slowly  passed  out  of  the  churchyard.  They  were  in  the 
act  of  emerging  into  the  main  thoroughfare,  where 
another  figure  loitering  discontentedly  by,  and  looking 
up  the  street  and  down  it,  and  all  about,  started  and 
exclaimed,  Lizzie!  why,  where  have  you  been?  Why, 
what’s  the  matter?” 

As  Eugene  Wrayburn  thus  addressed  her,  she  drew 
closer  to  the  Jew  and  bent  her  head.  The  Jew  having 
taken  in  the  whole  of  Eugene  at  one  sharp  glance,  cast 
his  eyes  upon  the  ground,  and  stood  mute. 

Lizzie,  what  is  the  matter?” 

Mr.  Wrayburn,  I cannot  tell  you  now.  I cannot  tell 
you  to-night,  if  I ever  can  tell  you.  Pray  leave  me.” 


THE  WHOLE  CASE  SO  FAR.  433 

But,  Lizzie,  I came  expressly  to  join  you.  I came 
to  walk  home  with  you,  having  dined  at  a coffee-house 
in  this  neighbourhood  and  knowing  your  hour.  And  I 
have  been  lingering  about,”  added  Eugene,  like  a 
bailiff;  or,”  with  a look  at  Riah,  ‘^an  old-clothes 
man.” 

The  Jew  lifted  up  his  eyes,  and  took  in  Eugene  once 
more  at  another  glance. 

Mr.  Wrayburn,  pray,  pray  leave  me  with  this  pro- 
tector. And  one  thing  more.  Pray,  pray  be  careful  of 
yourself.” 

Mysteries  of  Udolpho!”  said  Eugene,  with  a look  of 
wonder.  May  I be  excused  for  asking,  in  the  elderly 
gentleman’s  presence,  who  is  this  kind  protector?” 

‘‘A  trustworthy  friend,”  said  Lizzie. 

‘‘1  will  relieve  him  of  his  trust,”  returned  Eugene. 

But  you  must  tell  me,  Lizzie,  what  is  the  matter?” 

Her  brother  is  the  matter,”  said  the  old  man,  lifting 
up  his.  eyes  again. 

‘^Our  brother  the  matter?”  returned  Eugene,  with 
airy  contempt.  ^'Our  brother  is  not  worth  a thought, 
far  less  a tear.  What  has  our  brother  done  ? ” 

The  old  man  lifted  up  his  eyes  again,  with  one  grave 
look  at  Wrayburn,  and  one  grave  glance  at  Lizzie,  a*s 
she  stood  looking  down.  Both  were  so  full  of  meaning 
that  even  Eugene  was  checked  in  his  light  career,  and 
subsided  into  a thoughtful  Humph  !” 

With  an  air  of  perfect  patience  the  old  man,  remain- 
ing mute  and  keeping  his  eyes  cast  down,  stood,  retain- 
ing Lizzie’s  arm,  as  though,  in  his  habit  of  passive 
endurance,  it  would  be  all  one  to  him  if  he  had  stood 
there  motionless  all  night. 

^^If  Mr.  Aaron,”  said  Eugene,  who  soon  found  this 
fatiguing,  will  be  good  enough  to  relinquish  his  charge 
to  me,  he  will  be  quite  free  for  any  engagement  he 
may  have  at  the  Synagogue.  Mr.  Aaron,  will  you  have 
the  kindness  ?” 

But  the  old  man  stood  stock  still. 

‘^Good  evening,  Mr.  Aaron,”  said  Eugene,  politely; 
“ we  need  not  detain  you.”  Then  turning  to  Lizzie, 

our  friend  Mr.  Aaron  a little  deaf  ?” 

''My  hearing  is  very  good,  Christian  gentleman,” 
replied  the  old  man,  calmly  ; " but  I will  hear  only  one 
voice  to-night,  desiring  me  to  leave  this  damsel  before 

VOL.  I.  28 


434 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


I have  conveyed  her  to  her  home.  If  she  requests  it, 
I will  do  it.  I will  do  it  for  no  one  else.’’ 

May  I ask  why  so,  Mr.  Aaron  ?”  said  Eugene,  quite 
undisturbed  in  his  ease. 

Excuse  me.  If  she  asks  me,  I will  tell  her,”  replied 
the  old  man.  I will  tell  no  one  else.” 

‘^'I  do  not  ask  you,”  said  Lizzie,  *‘and  I beg  you  to 
take  me  home.  Mr.  Wray  burn,  I have  had  a bitter 
trial  to-night,  and  I hope  you  will  not  think  me  un- 
grateful, or  mysterious,  or  changeable.  I am  neither  ; 
I am  wretched.  Pray  remember  what  I said  to  you. 
Pray,  pray,  take  care.” 

My  dear  Lizzie,”  he  returned,  in  a low  voice,  bend- 
ing over  her  on  the  other  side  of  what  ? Of  whom  ? ” 

'^Of  any  one  you  have  lately  seen  and  made  angry.” 

He  snapped  his  fingers  and  laughed.  ‘‘Come,”  said 
he,  ” since  no  better  may  be,  Mr.  Aaron  and  I will  divide 
this  trust,  and  see  you  home  together.  Mr.  Aaron  on 
that  side ; I on  this.  If  perfectly  agreeable  to  Mr. 
Aaron,  the  escort  will  now  proceed.” 

He  knew  his  power  over  her.  He  knew  that  she 
would  not  insist  upon  his  leaving  her.  He  knew  that, 
her  fears  for  him  being  aroused,  she  would  be  uneasy  if 
he  were  out  of  her  sight.  For  all  his  seeming  levity 
and  carelessness,  he  knew  whatever  he  chose  to  know 
of  the  thoughts  of  her  heart. 

And  going  on  at  her  side,  so  gaily,  regardless  of  all 
that  had  been  urged  against  him  ; so  superior  in  his 
sallies  and  self-possession  to  the  gloomy  constraint  of 
her  suitor  and  the  selfish  petulance  of  her  brother  ; so 
faithful  to  her,  as  it  seemed,  when  her  own  stock  was 
faithless  ; what  an  immense  advantage,  what  an  over- 
powering infiuence,  were  his  that  night  ! Add  to  the 
rest,  poor  girl,  that  she  had  heard  him  vilified  for  her 
sake,  and  that  she  had  suffered  for  his,  and  where  the 
wonder  that  his  occasional  tones  of  serious  interest 
(setting  off  the  carelessness,  as  if  it  were  assumed  to 
calm  her),  that  his  lightest  touch,  his  lightest  look,  his 
very  presence  beside  her  in  the  dark  common  street, 
were  like  glimpses  of  an  enchanted  world,  which  it  was 
natural  for  jealousy  and  malice  and  all  meanness  to  be 
unable  to  bear  the  brightness  of,  and  to  gird  at  as  bad 
spirits  might  ? 

Nothing  more  being  said  of  repairing  to  Riah’s.  they 


THE  WHOLE  CASE  SO  FAR. 


435 


went  direct  to  Lizzie’s  lodging.  A little  short  of  the 
house-door  she  parted  from  them  and  went  in  alone. 

''Mr.  Aaron/’  said  Eugene,  when  they  were  left  to- 
gether in  the  street,  "with  many  thanks  for  your  com- 
pany, it  remains  for  me  unwillingly  to  say  Farewell.” 

"Sir,”  returned  the  other,  "I  give  you  good  night, 
and  I wish  that  you  were  not  so  thoughtless.” 

"Mr.  Aaron,”  returned  Eugene,  "I  give  you  good 
night,  and  I wish  (for  you  are  a little  dull)  that  you 
were  not  so  thoughtful.” 

But  now  that  his  part  was  played  out  for  the  evening, 
and  when  in  turning  his  back  upon  the  Jew  he  came  off 
the  stage,  he  was  thoughtful  himself.  "How  did 
Lightwood’s  catechism  run  ? ” he  murmured,  as  he 
stopped  to  light  his  cigar.  "What  is  to  come  of  it  ? 
vV  hat  are  you  doing  ? Where  are  you  going  ? We  shall 
soon  know  now.  Ah  ! ” with  a heavy  sigh. 

The  heavy  sigh  was  repeated  as  if  by  an  echo,  an  hour 
afterwards,  when  Riah,  who  had  been  sitting  on  some 
dark  steps  in  a corner  over  against  the  house,  arose  and 
went  his  patient  way;  stealing  through  the  streets  in  his 
ancient  dress,  like  the  ghost  of  a departed  Time. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

AN  ANNIVERSARY  OCCASION. 

The  estimable  Twemlow,  dressing  himself  in  his  lodg- 
ings over  the  stable-yard  in  Duke  Street,  Saint 
James’s,  and  hearing  the  horses  at  their  toilette  below, 
finds  himself  on  the  whole  in  a disadvantageous  posi- 
tion as  compared  with  the  noble  animals  at  livery.  For 
whereas,  on  the  one  hand,  he  has  no  attendant  to  slap 
him  soundingly  and  require  him  in  gruff  accents  to 
come  up  and  come  over,  still,  on  the  other  hand,  he  has 
no  attendant  at  all;  and  the  mild  gentleman’s  finger- 
joints  and  other  joints  working  rustily  in  the  morning, 
he  could  deem  it  agreeable  even  to  be  tied  up  by  the 
countenance  at  his  chamber  door,  so  he  were  there  skil- 
fully rubbed  down  and  slushed  and  sluiced  and  polished 


436 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


and  clothed,  while  himself  taking  merely  a passive  part 
in  these  trying  transactions. 

How  the  fascinating  Tippins  gets  on  when  arraying 
herself  for  the  bewilderment  of  the  senses  of  men,  is 
known  only  to  the  Graces  and  her  maid;  but  perhaps 
even  that  engaging  creature,  though  not  reduced  to  the 
self-dependence  of  Twemlow,  could  dispense  with  a 
good  deal  of  the  trouble  attendant  on  the  daily  restora- 
tion of  her  charms,  seeing  that  as  to  her  face  and  neck 
this  adorable  divinity  is,  as  it  were,  a diurnal  species 
of  lobster — throwing  off  a shell  every  forenoon,  and 
needing  to  keep  in  a retired  spot  until  the  new  crust 
hardens. 

Howbeit,  Twemlow  doth  at  length  invest  himself  with 
collar  and  cravat  and  wristbands  to  his  knuckles,  and 
goeth  forth  to  breakfast.  And  to  breakfast  with  whom 
but  his  near  neighbours,  the  Lammles  of  Sackville 
Street,  who  have  imparted  to  him  that  he  will  meet  his 
distant  kinsman,  Mr.  Fledgeby?  The  awful  Snigsworth 
might  taboo  and  prohibit  Fledgeby,  but  the  peaceable 
Twemlow  reasons,  ^Hf  he  is  my  kinsman  I didn’t  make 
him  so,  and  to  meet  a man  is  not  to  know  him.” 

It  is  the  first  anniversary  of  the  happy  marriage  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lammle,  and  the  celebration  is  a break- 
fast, because  a dinner  on  the  desired  scale  of  sumptu- 
osity  cannot  be  achieved  within  less  limits  than  those 
of  the  non-existent  palatial  residence  of  which  so  many 
people  are  madly  envious.  So,  Twemlow  trips  with  not 
a little  stiffness  across  Piccadilly,  sensible  of  having 
once  been  more  upright  in  figure  and  less  in  danger  of 
being  knocked  down  by  swift  vehicles.  To  be  sure  that 
was  in  the  days  when  he  hoped  for  leave  from  the  dread 
Snigsworth  to  do  something  or  be  something  in  life, 
and  before  that  magnificent  Tartar  issued  the  ukase, 
''As  he  will  never  distinguish  himself,  he  must  be  a 
poor  gentleman-pensioner  of  mine,  and  let  him  hereby 
consider  himself  pensioned.” 

Ah!  my  Twemlow!  Say,  little  feeble  grey  personage, 
what  thoughts  are  in  thy  breast  to-day  of  the  Fancy — 
so  still  to  call  her  who  bruised  thy  heart  when  it  was 
green  and  thy  head  brown — and  whether  it  be  better  or 
worse,  more  painful  or  less,  to  believe  in  the  Fancy  to 
this  hour,  than  to  know  her  for  a greedy  armour-plated 
crocodile,  with  no  more  capacity  of  imagining  the  deli- 
( 


AN  ANNIVERSARY  OCCASION. 


437 


cate  and  sensitive  and  tender  spot  behind  thy  waistcoat, 
than  of  going  straight  at  it  with  a knitting-needle.  Say 
likewise,  my  Twemlow,  whether  it  be  the  happier  lot 
to  be  a poor  relation  of  the  great,  or  to  stand  in  the 
wintry  slush  giving  the  hack  horses  to  drink  out  of  the 
shallow  tub  at  the  coach-stand,  into  which  thou  hast 
so  nearly  set  thy  uncertain  foot.  Twemlow  says  noth- 
ing, and  goes  on. 

As  he  approaches  the  Lammles’  door,  drives  up  a little 
one-horse  carriage,  containing  Tippins,  the  divine.  Tip- 
pins,  letting  down  the  window,  playfully  extols  the 
vigilance  of  her  cavalier  in  being  in  waiting  there  to 
hand  her  out.  Twemlow  hands  her  out  with  as  much 
polite  gravity  as  if  she  were  anything  real,  and  they 
proceed  up  stairs  : Tippins  all  abroad  about  the  legs, 
and  seeking  to  express  that  those  unsteady  articles  are 
only  skipping  in  their  native  buoyancy. 

And  dear  Mrs.  Lammle  and  dear  Mr.  Lammle,  how 
do  you  do,  and  when  are  you  going  down  to  what’s-its- 
name  place — Guy,  Earl  of  Warwick,  you  know — what 
is  it  ? — Dun  Cow — to  claim  the  flitch  of  bacon  ? And 
Mortimer,  whose  name  is  for  ever  blotted  out  from  my 
list  of  lovers,  by  reason  first  of  fickleness,  and  then  of 
base  desertion,  how  do  you  do,  wretch  ? And  Mr.  Wray- 
burn,  you  here  ! What  can  you  come  for,  because  we 
are  all  very  sure  beforehand  that  you  are  not  going 
to  talk  ! And  Veneering,  M.  P.,  how  are  things  going 
on  down  at  the  House,  and  when  will  you  turn  out  those 
terrible  people  for  us  ? And  Mrs.  Veneering,  my  dear, 
can  it  positively  be  true  that  you  go  down  to  that  stifling 
place  night  after  night  to  hear  those  men  prose  ? Talk- 
ing of  which.  Veneering,  why  don’t  you  prose,  for  you 
haven’t  opened  your  lips  there  yet,  and  we  are  dying  to 
hear  what  you  have  got  to  say  to  us  ? Miss  Podsnap, 
charmed  to  see  you.  Pa,  here  ? No  ! Ma  neither  ? 
Oh  ! Mr.  Boots  ! Delighted.  Mr.  Brewer  ! This  is  a 
gathering  of  the  clans.  Thus  Tippins,  and  surveys 
Eledgeby  and  outsiders  through  golden  glass,  murmur- 
ing as  she  turns  about  and  about,  in  her  innocent  giddy 
way.  Anybody  else  I know?  No,  I think  not.  Nobody 
there.  Nobody  there.  Nobody  anywhere. 

Mr.  Lammle,  all  a-glitter,  produces  his  friend  Fledge- 
by,  as  dying  for  the  honour  of  presentation  to  Lady 
Tippins.  Eledgeby,  presented,  has  the  air  of  going  to 


438 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


say  something,  has  the  air  of  going  to  say  nothing,  has 
an  air  successively  of  meditation,  of  resignation,  and 
of  desolation,  backs  on  Brewer,  makes  the  tour  of 
Boots,  and  fades  into  the  extreme  background,  feeling 
for  his  whisker,  as  if  it  might  have  turned  up  since  he 
was  there  five  minutes  ago. 

But  Lammle  has  him  out  again  before  he  has  so  much 
as  completely  ascertained  the  bareness  of  the  land. 
He  would  seem  to  be  in  a bad  way,  Fledgeby ; for 
Lammle  represents  him  as  dying  again.  He  is  dying 
now,  of  want  of  presentation  to  Twemlow. 

Twemlow  offers  his  hand.  Glad  to  see  him.  ^ Your 
mother,  sir,  was  a connection  of  mine.’’- 

I believe  so,”  says  Fledgeby,  ''  but  my  mother  and 
her  family  were  two.” 

Are  you  staying  in  town  ?”  asks  Twemlow. 

I always  am,”  says  Fledgeby. 

You  like  town,”  says  Twemlow.  But  is  felled  fiat 
by  Fledgeby’s  taking  it  quite  ill,  and  replying.  No,  he 
don’t  like  town.  Lammle  tries  to  break  the  force  of 
the  fall,  by  remarking  that  some  people  do  not  like 
town.  Fledgeby  retorting  that  he  never  heard  of  any 
such  case  but  his  own,  Twemlow  goes  down  again 
heavily. 

There  is  nothing  new  this  morning,  ^ suppose?’ 
says  Twemlow,  returning  to  the  mark  with  great  spirit. 

Fledgeby  has  not  heard  of  anything. 

No,  there’s  not  a word  of  news,”  says  Lammle. 

Not  a particle,”  adds  Boots. 

^^Not  an  atom/’  chimes  in  Brewer. 

Somehow  the  execution  of  this  little  concerted  piece 
appears  to  raise  the  general  spirits  as  with  a sense  of 
duty  done,  and  sets  the  company  going.  Everybody 
seems  more  equal  than  before  to  the  calamity  of  being 
in  the  society  of  everybody  else.  Even  Eugene  stand- 
ing in  a window,  moodily  swinging  the  tassel  of  a blind, 
gives  it  a smarter  jerk  now,  as  if  he  found  himself  in 
better  case. 

Breakfast  announced.  Everything  on  table  showy 
and  gaudy,  but  with  a self-assertingly  temporary  and 
nomadic  air  on  the  decorations,  as  boasting  that  they 
will  be  much  more  showy  and  gaudy  in  the  palatial  resi- 
dence. Mr.  Lammle’s  own  particular  servant  behind 
his  chair;  the  Analytical  behind  Veneering’s  chair; 


AN  ANNIVERSARY  OCCASION. 


439 


instances  in  point  that  such  servants  fall  into  two 
classes  : one  mistrusting  the  master’s  acquaintances, 
and  the  other  mistrusting  the  master.  Mr.  Lammle’s 
servant  of  the  second  class.  Appearing  to  be  lost  in 
wonder  and  low  spirits  because  the  police  are  so  long  in 
coming  to  take  his  master  up  on  some  charge  of  the  first 
magnitude. 

Veneering,  M.P.,  on  the  right  of  Mrs.  Lammle  ; Twem- 
low  on  her  left ; Mrs.  Veneering,  W.M.P.  (wife  of  Mem- 
ber of  Parliament),  and  Lady  Tippins  on  Mr.  Lammle’s 
right  and  left.  But  be  sure  that  well  within  the  fascina- 
tion of  Mr.  Lammle’s  eye  and  smile  sits  little  Georgiana. 
And  be  sure  that  close  to  little  Georgiana,  also  under 
inspection  by  the  same  gingerous  gentleman,  sits 
Fledgeby. 

Oftener  than  twice  or  thrice  while  breakfast  is  in  pro- 
gress, Mr.  Twemlow  gives  a little  sudden  turn  towards 
Mrs.  Lammle,  and  then  says  to  her,  ‘^I  beg  your  par- 
don ! ” This  not  being  Twemlow’s  usual  way,  why  is  it 
his  way  to-day  ? Why,  the  truth  is,  Twemlow  repeat- 
edly labours  under  the  impression  that  Mrs.  Lammle  is 
going  to  speak  to  him,  and,  turning,  finds  that  it  is  not 
so,  and  mostly  that  she  had  her  eyes  upon  Veneeringt 
Strange  that  this  impression  so  abides  by  Twemlow 
after  being  corrected,  yet  so  it  is. 

Lady  Tippins  partaking  plentifully  of  the  fruits  of  the 
earth  (including  grape- juice  in  the  category)  becomes 
livelier,  and  applies  herself  to  elicit  sparks  from  -Mor- 
timer Lightwood.  It  is  always  understood  among  the 
initiated  that  that  faithless  lover  must  be  planted  at 
table  opposite  to  Lady  Tippins,  who  will  then  strike 
conversational  fire  out  of  him.  In  a pause  of  masti- 
cation and  deglutition.  Lady  Tippins  contemplating 
Mortimer,  recalls  that  it  was  at  our  dear  Veneerings, 
and  in  the  presence  of  a party  who  are  surely  all  here,^ 
that  he  told  them  his  story  of  the  man  from  somewhere,* 
which  afterwards  became  so  horribly  interesting  and 
vulgarly  popular. 

^Wes,  Lady  Tippins,”  dissents  Mortimer;  ^^as  they 
say  on  the  stage.  Even  so  !” 

Then  we  expect  you,”  retorts  the  charmer,  to  sustain 
your  reputation,  and  tell  us  something  else.” 

^^Lady  Tippins,  I exhausted  myself  for  life  that  day, 
and  there  is  nothing  more  to  be  got  out  of  me,” 


440 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEN^D. 


Mortimer  parries  thus,  with  a sense  upon  him  that 
elsewhere  it  is  Eugene  and  not  he  who  is  the  jester,  and 
that  in  these  circles,  where  Eugene  persists  in  being 
speechless,  he,  Mortimer,  is  but  the  double  of  the  friend 
on  whom  he  has  founded  himself. 

But,’’  quoth  the  fascinating  Tippins,  I am  resolved 
on  getting  something  more  out  of  you.  Traitor  ! what 
this  I hear  about  another  disappearance  ?” 

As  it  is  you  who  have  heard  it,”  returns  Lightwood, 
perhaps  you’ll  tell  us.” 

Monster,  away  ! ” retorts  Lady  Tippins.  Your  own 
Golden  Dustman  referred  me  to  you.” 

Mr.  Lammle,  striking  in  here,  proclaims  aloud  that 
there  is  a sequel  to  the  story  of  the  man  from  some- 
where. Silence  ensues  upon  the  proclamation. 

I assure  you,”  says  Lightwood,  glancing  round  the 
table,  ''  I have  nothing  to  tell.”  But  Eugene  adding  in 
a low  voice,  ''There,  tell  it,  tell  it !”  he  corrects  himself 
with  the  addition,  " Nothing  worth  mentioning.” 

Boots  and  Brewer  immediately  perceive  that  it  is  im- 
mensely worth  mentioning,  and  become  politely  clam- 
orous. Veneering  is  also  visited  by  a perception  to  the 
same  effect.  But  it  is  understood  that  his  attention  is 
now  rather  used  up,  and  difficult  to  hold,  that  being  the 
tone  of  the  House  of  Commons. 

"Pray  don’t  beat  the  trouble  of  composing  yourselves 
to  listen,”  says  Mortimer  Lightwood,  "because  I shall 
have^nished  long  before  you  have  fallen  into  comfort- 
able attitudes.  It’s  like — ” 

"It’s  like,”  impatiently  interrupts  Eugene,  "the  chil- 
dren’s narrative: 

‘ I’ll  tell  you  a story 
Of  Jack  a Manory, 

And  now  my  story’s  begun; 

I’ll  tell  you  another 
Of  Jack  and  his  brother, 

And  now  my  story  is  done.' 

— Get  on,  and  get  it  over!” 

Eugene  says  this  with  a sound  of  vexation  in  his  voice, 
leaning  back  in  his  chair,  and  looking  balefully  at  Lady 
Tippins,  who  nods  at  him  as  her  dear  Bear,  and  play- 
fully insinuates  that  she  (a  self-evident  proposition)  is 
Beauty,  and  he  Beast. 

"The  reference,”  proceeds  Mortimer,  "which  I sup- 
pose to  be  made  by  my  honourable  and  fair  enslaver  op- 


AN  ANNIVERSARY  OCCASION. 


441 


posite,  is  to  the  following  circumstance.  Very  lately, 
the  young  woman,  Lizzie  Hexam,  daughter  of  the  late 
Jesse  Hexam,.  otherwise  Gaffer,  who  will  be  remem- 
bered to  have  found  the  body  of  the  man  from  some 
where,  mysteriously  received,  she  knew  not  from  whomy 
an  explicit  retraction  of  the  charges  made  against  her 
father,  by  another  water-side  character  of  the  name  of: 
Riderhood.  Nobody  believed  them,  because  little  Rogue 
Riderhood — I am  tempted  into  the  paraphrase  by  re  . 
membering  the  charming  wolf  who  would  have  ren- 
dered society  a great  service  if  he  had  devoured  Mr. 
Riderhood’s  father  and  mother  in  their  infancy — had 
previously  played  fast  and  loose  with  the  said  charges, 
and,  in  fact,  abandoned  them.  However,  the  retraction 
I have  mentioned  found  its  way  into  Lizzie  Hexam’s 
hands,  with  a general  flavour  on  it  of  having  been 
favoured  by  some  anonymous  messenger  in  a dark 
cloak  and  slouched  hat,  and  was  by  her  forwarded,  in 
her  father’s  vindication,  to  Mr.  Bo&i,  my  client.  You 
will  excuse  the  phraseology  of  the  shop,  but  as  I never 
had  another  client,  and  in  all  likelihood  never  shall 
have,  I am  rather  proud  of  him  as  a natural  curiosity 
probably  unique.” 

Although  as  easy  as  usual  on  the  surface,  Lightwood 
is  not  quite  as  easy  as  usual  below  it.  With  an  air  of 
not  minding  Eugene  at  all,  he  feels  that  the  subject  is 
not  altogether  a safe  one  in  that  connection. 

^^The  natural  curiosity  which  forms  the  sole  orna- 
ment of  my  professional  museum,”  he  resumes,  ^there- 
upon desires  his  Secretary — an  individual  of  the  her- 
mit-crab or  oyster  species,  and  whose  name,  I think,  is 
Chokesmith — but  it  doesn’t  in  the  least  matter — say 
Artichoke — to  put  himself  in  communication  with  Liz- 
zie Hexam.  Artichoke  professes  his  readiness  so  to  do, 
endeavours  to  do  so,  but  fails.” 

tt  Why  fails?”  asks  Boots. 

tt  How  fails?”  asks  Brewer. 

tt  Pardon  me,”  returns  Lightwood,  I must  postpone 
the  reply  for  one  moment,  or  we  shall  have  an  anti- 
climax. Artichoke  failing  signally,  my  client  refers 
the  task  to  me  : his  purpose  being  to  advance  the  inter- 
ests of  the  object  of  his  search.  I proceed  to  put  myself 
in  communication  with  her ; I even  happen  to  possess 
some  special  means,”  with  a glance  at  Eugene,  ^^of 


442 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


putting  myself  in  communication  with  her ; but  I fail 
too,  because  she  has  vanished/’ 

'' Vanished!”  is  the  general  echo. 

Disappeared,”  says  Mortimer.  ‘ ^ Nobody  knows  how, 
nobody  knows  when,  nobody  knows  where.  And  so 
ends  the  story  to  which  my  honourable  and  fair  enslaver 
opposite  referred.” 

Tippins,  with  a bewitching  little  scream,  opines  that 
we  shall  every  one  of  us  be  murdered  in  our  beds. 
Eugene  eyes  her  as  if  some  of  us  would  be  enough  for 
him.  Mrs.  Veneering,  W.M.P.,  remarks  that  these  so- 
cial mysteries  make  one  afraid  of  leaving  Baby.  Ve- 
neering, M.P.,  wishes  to  be  informed  (with  something 
of  a second-hand  air  of  seeing  the  Right  Honourable 
Gentleman  at  the  head  of  the  Home  Department  in  his 
place)  whether  it  is  intended  to  be  conveyed  that  the 
vanished  person  has  been  spirited  away  or  otherwise 
harmed?  Instead  of  Light  wood’s  answering,  Eugene 
answers,  and  answers  hastily  and  vexedly  : ^^  No,  no, 
no  ; he  doesn’t  mean  that ; he  means  voluntarily 
vanished — but  utterly — completely. 

However,  the  great  subject  of  the  happiness  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Lammle  must  not  be  allowed  to  vanish  with 
the  other  vanishments — with  the  vanishing  of  the  mur- 
derer, the  vanishing  of  Julius  Handford,  the  vanishing 
of  Lizzie  Hexam — and  therefore  Veneering  must  recall 
the  present  sheep  to  the  pen  from  w'hich  they  have 
strayed.  AVho  so  fit  to  discourse  of  the  happiness  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lammle,  they  being  the  dearest  and 
oldest  friends  he  has  in  the  world;  or  what  audience  so 
fit  for  him  to  take  into  his  confidence  as  that  audience, 
a noun  of  multitude,  or  signifying  many,  who  are  all  the 
oldest  and  dearest  friends  he  has  in  the  world?  So 
Veneering,  without  the  formality  of  rising,  launches 
into  a familiar  oration,  gradually  toning  into  the  Par- 
liamentary sing-song,  in  which  he  sees  at  that  board  his 
dear  friend  Twemlow,  who  on  that  day  twelvemonth 
bestowed  on  his  dear  friend  Lammle  the  fair  hand  of  his 
dear  friend  Sophronia,  and  in  which  he  also  sees  at 
that  board  his  dear  friends  Boots  and  Brewer,  whose 
rallying  round  him  at  a period  when  his  dear  friend 
Lady  Tippins  likewise  rallied  round  him — ay,  and  in  the 
foremost  rank — he  can  never  forget  while  memory  holds 
her  seat.  But  he  is  free  to  confess  that  he  misses  from 


AN  ANNIVERSARY  OCCASION. 


443 


that  board  his  dear  old  friend  Podsnap,  though  he  is 
well  represented  by  his  dear  young  friend  Georgiana. 
And  he  further  sees  at  that  board  (this  he  announces 
with  pomp,  as  if  exulting  in  the  powers  of  an  extraor- 
dinary telescope,)  his  friend  Mr.  Fledgeby,  if  he  will 
permit  him  to  call  him  so.  For  all  of  these  reasons,  and 
many  more  which  he  right  well  knows  will  have  oc- 
curred to  persons  of  your  exceptional  acuteness,  he  is 
here  to  submit  to  you  that  the  time  has  arrived  when, 
with  our  hearts  in  our  glasses,  with  tears  in  our  eyes, 
with  blessings  on  our  lips,  and  in  a general  way  with  a 
profusion  of  gammon  and  spinach  in  our  emotional  lar- 
ders, we  should  one  and  all  drink  to  our  dear  friends  the 
Lammles,  wishing  them  many  many  years  as  happy  as 
thedast,  and  many  many  friends  as  congenially  united  as 
themselves.  And  this  he  will  add:  that  Anastatia 
Veneering  (who  is  instantly  heard  to  weep)  is  formed 
on  the  same  model  as  her  old  and  chosen  friend  So- 
phronia  Lammle,  in  respect  that  she  is  devoted  to  the 
man  who  wooed  and  won  her,  and  nobly  discharges  the 
duties  of  a wife. 

Seeing  no  better  way  out  of  it.  Veneering  here  pulls 
up  his  oratorical  Pegasus  extremely  short,  and  plumps 
down,  clean  over  his  head  with  : Lammle,  God  bless 
you  ! ’’ 

Then  Lammle.  Too  much  of  him  every  way ; per- 
vadingly  too  much  nose  of  a coarse  wrong  shape,  and 
his  nose  in  his  mind  and  his  manners  ; too  much  smile 
to  be  real  ; too  much  frown  to  be  false  ; too  many  large 
teeth  to  be  visible  at  once  without  suggesting  a 
bite.  He  thanks  you,  dear  friends,  for  your  kindly 
greeting,  and  hopes  to  receive  you — it  may  be  on  the 
next  of  these  delightful  occasions — in  a residence 
better  suited  to  your  claims  on  the  rites  of  hospitality. 
He  will  never  forget  that  at  Veneering’s  he  first  saw 
Sophronia.  Sophronia  will  never  forget  that  at  Ve- 
neering’s  she  first  saw  him.  They  spoke  of  it  soon 
after  they  were  married,  and  agreed  that  they  would  nev- 
er forget  it.  In  fact,  to  V eneering  they  owe  their  union. 
They  hope  to  show  their  sense  of  this  some  day  (^'  No, 
no,’’  from  Veneering) — oh  yes,  yes,  and  let  him  rely 
upon  it,  they  will  if  they  can  ! His  marriage  with  So- 
jjhronia  was  not  a marriage  of  interest  on  either  side  : 
she  had  her  little  fortune,  he  had  his  little  fortune  : they 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


M4 

joined  their  little  fortunes  : it  was  a marriage  of  pure 
inclination  and  suitability.  Thank  you  ! Sophronia  and 
he  are  fond  of  the  society  of  young  people  ; but  he  is 
not  sure  that  their  house  would  be  a good  house  for 
3^oung  people  proposing  to  remain  single,  since  the  con- 
templation of  its  domestic  bliss  might  induce  them  to 
change  their  minds.  He  will  not  apply  this  to  any  one 
present ; certainly  not  to  their  darling  little  Georgi- 
ana.  Again  thank  you  ! Neither  by-the-bye,  will  he 
apply  it  to  his  friend  Fledgeby.  He  thanks  Veneering 
for  the  feeling  manner  in  which  he  referred  to  their 
common  friend  Fledgeby,  for  he  holds  that  gentleman 
in  the  highest  estimation.  Thank  you.  In  fact  (re- 
turning unexpectedly  to  Fledgeby),  the  better  you  know 
him,  the  more  you  find  in  him  that  you  desire  to  know. 
Again  thank  you  ! In  his  dear  Sophronia’s  name  and  in 
his  own,  thank  you  ! 

Mrs.  Lammle  has  sat  quite  still,  with  her  eyes  cast 
down  upon  the  table-cloth.  As  Mr.  Lammle’s  address 
ends,  Twemlow  once  more  turns  to  her  involuntarily, 
not  cured  yet  of  that  often  recurring  impression  that 
she  is  going  to  speak  to  him.  This  time  she  really  is 
going  to  speak  to  him.  Veneering  is  talking  with  his 
other  next  neighbour  and  she  speaks  in  a low  voice. 

^^Mr.  Twemlow.’’ 

He  answers,  ''1  beg  your  pardon?  Yes?”  Still  a 
little  doubtful,  because  of  her  not  looking  at  him. 

You  have  the  soul  of  a gentleman,  and  I know  I 
may  trust  you.  Will  you  give  me  the  opportunity  of 
saying  a few  words  to  you  when  you  come  up-stairs?” 

Assuredly.  I shall  be  honoured.” 

Don’t  seem  to  do  so,  if  you  please,  and  don’t  think 
it  inconsistent  if  my  manner  should  be  more  careless 
than  my  words.  I may  be  watched.” 

Intensely  astonished,  Twemlow  puts  his  hand  to  his 
forehead,  and  sinks  back  in  his  chair  meditating.  Mrs. 
Lammle  rises.  All  rise.  The  ladies  go  up-stairs.  The 
gentlemen  soon  saunter  after  them.  Fledgeby  has  de- 
voted the  interval  to  taking  an  observation  of  Boots’s 
whisker’s.  Brewer’s  whiskers,  and  Lammle’s  whiskers, 
and  considering  which  pattern  of  whisker  he  would 
prefer  to  produce  out  of  himself  by  friction,  if  the  Genie 
of  the  cheek  would  only  answer  to  his  rubl3ing. 

In  the  drawing-room,  groups  form  as  usual.  Light- 


AN  ANNIVERSARY  OCCASION. 


445 


wood,  Boots,  and  Brewer,  flutter  like  moths  around 
that  yellow  wax  candle — guttering  down,  and  with 
some  hint  of  a winding-sheet  in  it — Lady  Tippins. 
Outsiders  cultivate  Veneering,  M.  P.,  and  Mrs.  Veneer- 
ing, W.  M.  P.  Lammle  stands  with  folded  arms,  Me- 
phistophilean  in  a corner,  with  Georgiana  and  Fledgeby. 
Mrs.  Lammle,  on  a sofa  by  a table,  invites  Mr. 
Twemlow’s  attention  to  a book  of  portraits  in  her 
hand. 

Mr.  Twemlow  takes  his  station  on  a settee  before  her, 
and  Mrs.  Lammle  shows  him  a portrait. 

You  have  reason  to  be  surprised,’’  she  says  softly, 
^^but  I wish  you  wouldn’t  look  so.” 

Disturbed  Twemlow,  making  an  effort  not  to  look  so, 
looks  much  more  so. 

I think,  Mr.  Twemlow,  you  never  saw  that  distant 
connection  of  yours  before  to-day  ? ” 

''No,  never.” 

" Now  that  you  do  see  him,  you  see  what  he  is.  You 
are -not  proud  of  him?’.’ 

"To  say  the  truth,  Mrs.  Lammle,  no.” 

" If  you  knew  more  of  him,  you  would  be  less  inclined 
to  acknowledge  him.  Here  is  another  portrait.  What 
do  you  think  of  it  ? ” 

Twemlow  has  just  presence  of  mind  enough  to  say 
aloud  : "Very  like  ! Uncommonly  like  ! ’’ 

"You  have  noticed,  perhaps,  whom  he  favours  with 
his  attentions  ? You  notice  where  he  is  now,  and  how 
engaged  ? ” 

"Yes.  But  Mr.  Lammle ” 

She  darts  a look  at  him  which  he  cannot  comprehend, 
and  shows  him  another  portrait. 

"Very  good;  is  it  not  ?” 

"Charming  !”  says  Twemlow. 

" So  like  as  to  be  almost  a caricature  ? — Mr.  Twemlow, 
it  is  impossible  to  tell  you  what  the  struggle  in  my 
mind  has  been,  before  I could  bring  myself  to  speak  to 
you  as  I do  now.  It  is  only  in  the  conviction  that  I 
niay  trust  you  never  to  betray  me,  that  I can  proceed. 
Sincerely  promise  me  that  you  never  will  betray  my 
confidence — that  you  will  respect  it,  even  though  you 
may  no  longer  respect  me — and  I shall  be  as  satisfied 
as  if  you  had  sworn  it.” 

" Madam,  on  the  honour  of  a poor  gentleman ” 


446 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


“ Thank  you.  I can  desire  no  more.  Mr.  Twemlow, 
I implore  you  to  save  that  child  !” 

“That  child  ?” 

“ Georgiana.  She  will  be  sacrificed.  She  will  be  in- 
veigled and  married  to  that  connection  of  yours.  It  is 
a partnership  affair,  a money-speculation.  She  has  no 
strength  of  will  or  character  to  help  herself,  and  she 
is  on  the  brink  of  being  sold  into  wretchedness  for 
life.” 

“Amazing!  But  what  can  I do  to  prevent  it?” 
demands  Twemlow,  'shocked  and  bewildered  to  the  last 
degree. 

“ Here  is  another  portrait.  And  not  good,  is  it  ?” 

Aghast  at  the  light  manner  of  her  throwing  her  head 
back  to  look  at  it  critically,  Twemlow  still  dimly  per- 
ceives the  expediency  of  throwing  his  own  head  back, 
and  does  so.  Though  he  no  more  sees  the  portrait  than 
if  it  were  in  China. 

“.Decidedly  not  good,”  says  Mrs.  Lammle.  “Stiff 
and  exaggerated  ! ” 

“And  ex ” But  Twemlow,  in  his  demolished 

state,  cannot  command  the  word,  and  trails  off  into 
“ actly  so.” 

“Mr.  Twemlow,  your  v/ord  will  have  weight  with 
her  pompous,  self-blinded  father.  You  knowhow  much 
he  makes  of  your  family.  Lose  no  time.  Warn  him.” 

“ But  warn  him  against  whom  ? ” 

“Against  me.” 

By  great  good  furtune  Twemlow  receives  a stimulant 
at  this  critical  instant.  The  stimulant  is  Lammle’s 
voice. 

“ Sophronia,  my  dear,  what  portraits  are  you  showing 
Twemlow  ?” 

“Public  characters,  Alfred.” 

“Show  him  the  last  of  me.” 

“Yes,  Alfred.” 

She  puts  the  book  down,  takes  another  book  up,  turns 
the  leaves,  and  presents  the  portrait  to  Twemlow. 

“ That  is  the  last  of  Mr.  Lammle.  Do  you  think  it 
good  ? — Warn  her  father  against  me.  I deserve  it,  for 
I have  been  in  the  scheme  from  the  first.  It  is  my 
husband’s  scheme,  your  connection’s,  and  mine.  I tell 
you  this,  only  to  show  you  the  necessity  of  the  poor 
little  foolish  affectionate  creature’s  being  befriended 


AN  ANNIVERSARY  OCCASION. 


447 


and  rescued.  You  will  not  repeat  this  to  her  father. 
You  will  spare  me  so  far,  and  spare  my  husband.  For, 
though  this  celebration  of  to-day  is  all  a mockery,  he 
is  my  husband,  and  we  must  live. — Do  you  think  it 
like  ? ” 

Twemlow,  in  a stunned  condition,  feigns  to  compare 
the  portrait  in  his  hand  with  the  original  looking  tow- 
ards him  from  his  Mephistophilean  corner. 

Very  well  indeed  are  at  length  the  words  which 
Twemlow  with  great  difficulty  extracts  from  himself. 

^^I  am  glad  you  think  so.  On  the  whole,  I myself 
consider  it  the  best.  The  others  are  so  dark.  Now 
here,  for  instance,  is  another  of  Mr.  Lammle ” 

''But  I don’t  understand;  I don’t  see  my  way,” 
Twemlow  stammers,  as  he  falters  over  the  book  with 
his  glass  at  his  eye.  "How  warn  her  father,  and  not 
tell  him  ? Tell  him  how  much  ? Tell  him  how  little  ? 
I — I — am  getting  lost.” 

"Tell  him  I am  a match-maker ; tell  him  I am  an 
artful  and  designing  woman  ; tell  him  you  are  sure  his 
daughter  is  best  out  of  my  house  and  my  company. 
Tell  him  any  such  things  of  me  ; they  will  all  be  true. 
You  know  what  a puffed-up  man  he  is,  and  how  easily 
you  can  cause  his  vanity  to  take  the  alarm.  Tell  him 
as  much  as  will  give  him  the  alarm  and  make  him  care- 
ful of  her,  and  spare  me  the  rest.  Mr.  Twemlow,  I feel 
my  sudden  degradation  in  your  eyes  ; familiar  as  I am 
with  my  degradation  in  my  own  eyes,  I keenly  feel  the 
change  that  must  have  come  upon  me  in  yours,  in  these 
last  few  moments.  But  I trust  to  your  good  faith  with 
me  as  implicitly  as  when  I began.  If  you  knew  how 
often  I have  tried  to  speak  to  you  to-day,  you  would 
almost  pity  me.  I want  no  new  promise  from  you  on 
my  own  account,  for  I am  satisfied,  and  I always  shall 
be  satisfied,  with  the  promise  you  have  given  me.  I 
can  venture  to  say  no  more,  for  I see  that  I am  watched. 
If  you  would  set  my  mind  at  rest  with  the  assurance 
that  you  will  interpose  with  the  father  and  save  this 
harmless  girl,  close  that  book  before  you  return  it  to 
me,  and  I shall  know  what  you  mean,  and  deeply  thank 
you  in  my  heart. — Alfred,  Mr.  Twemlow  thinks  the  last 
one  the  best,  and  quite  agrees  with  you  and  me.” 

Alfred  advances.  The  groups  break  up.  Lady  Tip- 
pins  rises  to  go,  and  Mrs.  Veneering  follows  her  leader. 


448 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


For  the  moment,  Mrs.  Lammle  does  not  turn  to  them, 
but  remains  looking  at  Twemlow  looking  at  Alfred’s 
portrait  through  his  eye-glass.  The  moment  past, 
Twemlow  drops  his  eye-glass  at  its  ribbon’s  length,  rises, 
and  closes  the  book  with  an  emphasis  which  makes  that 
fragile  nurseling  of  the  fairies,  Tippins,  start. 

Then  good-bye  and  good-bye,  and  charming  occasion 
worthy  of  the  Golden  Age,  and  more  about  the  flitch  of 
bacon,  and  the  like  of  that  ; and  Twemlow  goes  stag- 
gering across  Piccadilly  with  his  hand  to  his  forehead, 
and  is  nearly  run  down  by  a flushed  letter-cart,  and  at 
last  drops  safe  in  his  easy-chair,  innocent  good  gentle- 
man, with  his  hand  to  his  forehead  still,  and  his  head 
in  a whirl. 


THE  END  OF  THE  SECOND  BOOK, 


AND  THE  END  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME. 


-■  .'-.'r-. 

V ■■■;:*'  •■;.  ■•  . ' ~ 


I 

r. 


it- 


i 


THE  DUTCH  BOTTLE. 


Our  Mutual  Friend 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

% 


By  CHARLES  DICKENS. 


IN  TWO  VOLUMES. 
VOL.  II. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


BOSTON: 

PERRY  MASON  & CO., 
TEMPLE  PLACE. 


1884, 


> . \ ' T :.  . •. ' . ; i:  i -. 


. .O  n 


COOTEKTS  OF  YOL.  II. 


BOOK  THE  TRIED.  A Long  Lane. 

CHAPTEE  I.  PAGE. 

Lodgers  in  Queer  Street 1 

CHAPTEE  11. 

A Eespected  Friend  in  a New  Aspect  . . .14 

CHAPTEE  III. 

The  same  Eespected  Friend  in  More  Aspects  than  One  . 24 

CHAPTEE  IV. 

A Happy  Eeturn  of  the  Day  ......  32 

CHAPTEE  V. 

The  Golden  Dustman  falls  into  Bad  Company  . . .45 

CHAPTEE  VI. 

The  Golden  Dustman  falls  into  Worse  Company  . .61 

CHAPTEE  VII. 

The  Friendly  Move  takes  up  a Strong  Position  . . 77 

CHAPTEE  VIII. 

The  End  of  a Long  Journey  . . ...  90 

CHAPTEE  IX. 

Somebody  becomes  the  Subject  of  a Prediction  . .102 

CHAPTEE  X. 

Scouts  Out  . . ...  . . . . . 120 

CHAPTEE  XI. 

In  the  Dark  . . . . . . . . .13.5 


IV 


CONTENTS  OF  VOL.  11. 


CHAPTEK  XIL  page. 

Meaning  Mischief  ....  145 

CHAPTEK  Xin. 

Give  a Dog  a Bad  Name,  and  Hang  Him  . . . .154 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Mr.  Wegg  Prepares  a Grindstone  for  Mr.  Boffin’s  Nose  . 165 
CHAPTER  XV. 

The  Golden  Dustman  at  his  Worst  . . . . .179 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

The  Feast  of  the  Three  Hobgoblins  . . . .195 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

A Social  Chorus 211 


BOOK  THE  FOURTH.  A Turning. 

CHAPTER  I. 

Setting  Traps  . . . . . . ’ . . . 224 

CHAPTER  II. 

The  Golden  Dustman  Rises  a Little  ....  236 

CHAPTER  rn. 

The  Golden  Dustman  Sinks  Again_ 247 

CHAPTER  IV. 

A Runaway  Match  ........  258 

CHAPTER  V. 

Concerning  the  Mendicant’s  Bride 269 

CHAPTER  VI. 

A Cry  for  Help  . . . . . . . . 288 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Better  to  be  Abel  th.an  Cain 


. 303 


CONTENTS  OF  VOL.  II. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

page. 

A Few  Grains  of  Pepper  .. 

. 314 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Two  Places  Vacated  ...... 

. 327 

CHAPTER  X. 

The  Dolls’  Deessmakee  Disco vees  a V/oed  . 

. 339 

CHAPTER  XL 

Effect  is  Given  to  the  Dolls’  Dkessmakee's  Discoi’eey  . 346 

CHAPTER  XII. 

The  Passing  Shadow  . . 

. 359 

CHAPTER  XHI. 

Showing  how  the  Golden  Dustman  helped  to  Scatter  Dust  373 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Checkmate  to  the  Friendly  Move  ‘ . 

. 384 

CHAPTER  XV. 

What  Was  Caught  in  the  Traps  that  were  set 

. 397 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Persons  and  Things  in  General 

. 410 

CHAPTER  THE  LAST. 

The  Voice  of  Society  ..... 

. 422 

Postscript,  in  lieu  of  Preface  ,*  , , 

. . 429 

v.rr/- . -'VO  ■ . •'] 

^'v  . . • I'  • , ‘ ' 

•...  .-.•■v  ■••‘.h  0-" ■'  _:n  V Aj'-'i-.M  ;;-.r-q’:'Di  3faT ’'Vi.)!; 

■ ■ ‘V  ’■  . ■ •.•.  ' ■■ 

/h>- Sc-fitMiaiD  ' ; 

~ : . . ^la  x:  •’■  Tf  vri  Mm:‘V  :-A«t  <* .*'•//  . 

■•■  •■  •.  ■ ■'■  1...  ....  ■ ' ; x::*- « 

;.  ‘ • ■"■  • : - fr':  FLAHD'.v.:  ' 

tzt  X'  A ' ' 'rriC^fe>.- 

-■  - '.  - . . y A ' ’ ■'  ' 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIUUD. 


IN  FOUR  BOOKS. 

BOOK  THE  THIED.  A LONG  LANE. 


CHAPTER  I. 


LODGERS  IN  QUEER  STREET. 

IT  was  a foggy  day  in  London,  and  the  fog  was  heavy 
and  dark.  Animate  London,  with  smarting  eyes 
and  irritated  lungs,  was  blinking,  wheezing,  and  chok- 
ing ; inanimate  London  was  a sooty  spectre,  divided  in 
purpose  between  being  visible  and  invisible,  and  so 
being  wholly  neither.  Gaslights  flared  in  the  shops 
with  a haggard  and  unblest  air,  as  knowing  themselves 
to  be  night-creatures  that  had  no  business  abroad  under 
the  sun ; while  the  sun  itself,  when  it  was  for  a few 
moments  dimly  indicated  through  circling  eddies  of 
fog,  showed  as  if  it  had  gone  out  and  were  collapsing 
flat  and  cold.  Even  in  the  surrounding  countiy  it  v/as 
a foggy  day,  but  there  the  fog  was  grey,  w’hereas  in 
London  it  was,  at  about  the  boundary  line,  dark  yellow, 
and  a little  within  it  brown,  and  then  browner,  and  then 
browner,  until  at  the  heart  of  the  City — which  call  Saint 
Mary  Axe — it  was  rusty-black.  From  any  point  of  the 
high  ridge  of  land  northward,  it  might  have  been  dis- 
cerned that  the  loftiest  buildings  made  an  occasional 
struggle  to  get  their  heads  above  the  foggy  sea,  and 
especially  that  the  great  dome  of  Saint  Paul’s  seemed 
to  die  hard ; but  this  was  not  perceivable  in  the 
streets  at  their  feet,  where  the  whole  metropolis  was 
VOL.  II.  1 


2 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


a heap  of  vapour  charged  with  muffled  sound  of  wheels, 
and  enfolding  a gigantic  catarrh. 

At  nine  o’clock  on  such  a morning,  the  place  of  busi- 
ness of  Pubsey  and  Co.  was  not  the  liveliest  object  even 
in  Saint  Mary  Axe— which  is  not  a very  lively  spot— 
with  a sobbing  gaslight  in  the  counting-house  window, 
and  a burglarious  stream  of  fog  creeping  in  to  strangle 
it  through  the  keyhole  of  the  main  door.  But  the  light 
went  out,  and  the  main  door  opened,  and  Riah  came 
forth  with  a bag  under  his  arm. 

Almost  in  the  act  of  coming  out  at  the  door,  Riah 
went  into  the  fog,  and  was  lost  to  the  eyes  of  Saint 
Mary  Axe.  But  the  eyes  of  this  history  can  follow  him 
westward,  by  Cornhill,  Cheapside,  Fleet  Street,  and  the 
Strand,  to  Piccadilly  and  the  Albany.  Thither  he  went 
at  his  grave  and  measured  pace,  staff  in  hand,  skirt  at 
heel ; and  more  than  one  head,  turning  to  look  back  at 
his  venerable  figure  already  lost  in  the  mist,  supposed 
it  to  be  some  ordinary  figure  indistinctly  seen,  which 
fancy  and  the  fog  had  worked  into  that  passing  like- 
nGSS. 

Arrived  at  the  house  in  which  his  master’s  chambers 
ware  on  the  second  floor,  Riah  proceeded  up  the  stairs, 
a id  paused  at  Fascination  Fledgeby’s  door.  Making 
free  with  neither  bell  nor  knocker,  he  struck  upon  the 
door  with  the  top  of  his  staff,  and,  having  listened,  sat 
down  on  the  threshold.  It  was  characteristic  of  his 
habitual  submission  that  he  sat  down  on  the  raw  dark 
staircase,  as  many  of  his  ancestors  had  probably  sat 
down  in  dungeons,  taking  what  befell  him  as  it  might 
befall. 

After  a time,  when  he  had  grown  so  cold  as  to  be 
fain  to  blow  upon  his  fingers,  he  arose  and  knocked 
with  his  staff  again,  and  listened  again,  and  again  sat 
down  to  wait.  Thrice  he  repeated  these  actions  before 
his  listening  ears  were  greeted  by  the  voice  of  Fledgeby, 
calling  from  his  bed,  “ Hold  your  row  !— I’ll  come  and 
open  the  door  directly  ! ” But,  in  lieu  of  coming  directly, 
he  fell  into  a sweet  sleep  for  some  quarter  of  an  hour 
more,  during  which  added  interval  Riah  sat  upon  the 
stairs  and  waited  with  perfect  patience. 

At  length  the  door  stood  open,  and  Mr.  Fledgebj^’s  re- 
treating drapery  plunged  into  bed  again.  Following  it 
at  a respectful  distance,  Riah  passed  into  the  bed- 


LODGERS  m QUEER  STREET.  3 

chamber,  where  a fire  had  been  sometime  lighted,  and 
was  burning  briskly. 

“ Why,  what  time  of  nigbt  do  you  mean  to  call  it  ?” 
inquired  Fledgeby,  turning  away  beneath  the  clothes, 
and  presenting  a comfortable  rampart  of  shoulder  to  the 
chilled  figure  of  the  old  man. 

“ Sir,  it  is  full  half-past  ten  in  the  morning.” 

“ The  deuce  it  is  ! Then  it  must  be  precious  foggy  ?” 

“Very  foggy,  sir.” 

“ And  raw,  then  ?” 

“Chill  and  bitter,”  said  Riah,  drawing  out  a hand- 
kerchief, and  wiping  the  moisture  from  his  beard  and 
long  grey  hair,  as  he  stood  on  the  verge  of  the  rug, 
with  his  eyes  on  the  acceptable  fire. 

With  a plunge  of  enjoyment,  Fledgeby  settled  him- 
self afresh. 

“Any  snow,  or  sleet,  or  slush,  or  anything  of  that 
sort  ? ” he  asked. 

“No,  sir,  no.  Not  quite  so  bad  as  that.  The  streets 
are  pretty  clean.” 

“You  needn’t  brag  about  it,”  returned  Fledgeby,  dis- 
appointed in  his  desire  to  heighten  the  contrast  be- 
tween his  bed  and  the  streets.  “But  you’re  always 
bragging  about  something.  Got  the  books  there  ?” 

“They  are  here,  sir.” 

“All  right.  I’ll  turn  the  general  subject  over  in  my 
mind  for  a minute  or  two,  and  while  I’m  about  it,  you 
can  empty  your  bag  and  get  ready  for  me.” 

With  another  comfortable  plunge,  Mr.  Fledgeby  fell 
asleep  again.  The  old  man,  having  obeyed  his  direc- 
tions, sat  down  on  the  edge  of  a chair,  and,  folding  his 
hands  before  him,  gradually  yielded  to  the  influence  of 
the  warmth,  and  dozed.  He  was  roused  by  Mr.  F'ledge- 
by’s  appearing  erect  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  in  Turkish 
slippers,  rose-coloured  Turkish  trousers  (got  cheap  from 
somebody  who  had  cheated  some  other  somebody  out  of 
them),  and  a gown  and  cap  to  correspond.  In  that  cos- 
tum'O  he  would  have  left  nothing  to  be  desired  if  he 
had  been  further  fitted  out  with  a bottomless  chair,  a 
lantern,  and  a bunch  of  matches. 

“Now,  old  ’un  !”  cried  Fascination,  in  his  light  rail- 
lery, “ what  dodgery  are  you  up  to  next,  sitting  there 
with  your  eyes  shut  ? You  aip’t  asleep.  Catch  a weasel 
at  it,  and  catch  a Jew  ! ” 


4 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Truly,  sir,  I fear  I nodded/-  said  the  old  man. 

Not  you  ! ’’  returned  Fledgeby,  with  a cunning  look. 

A telling  move  with  a good  many,  I dare  say,  but  it 
won’t  put  me  off  my  guard.  Not  a bad  notion,  though, 
if  you  want  to  look  indifferent  in  driving  a bargain. 
Oh,  you  are  a dodger  ! ” ^ 

The  old  man  shook  his  head,  gently  repudiating  the 
imputation,  and  suppressed  a sigh,  and  moved  to  the 
table  at  which  Mr.  Fledgeby  was  now  pouring  out  for 
himself  a cup  of  steaming  and  fragrant  coffee  from  a 
pot  that  had  stood  ready  on  the  hob.  It  was  an  edify- 
ing spectacle,  the  young  man  in  his  easy-chair  taking 
his  coffee,  and  the  old  man  with  his  grey  head  bent, 
standing  awaiting  his  pleasure. 

^^Now!”  said  Fledgeby.  ^^Fork  out  your  balance  in 
hand,  and  prove  by  figures  how  you  make  it  out  that 
it  ain't  more.  First  of  all,  light  that  candle.” 

Riah  obeyed,  and  then  taking  a bag  from  his  breast 
and  referring  to  the  sum  in  the  accounts  for  which  they 
made  him  responsible,  told  it  out  upon  the  table. 
Fledgeby  told  it  again  with  great  care,  and  rang  every 
sovereign. 

^^I  suppose,”  he  said,  taking  one  up  to  eye  it  closely, 
'^you  haven’t  been  lightening  any  of  these;  but  it’s  a 
trade  of  your  people’s,  you  know.  You  understand  what 
sweating  a pound  means;  don’t  you?” 

^^Much  as  you  do,  sir,”  returned  the  old  man,  with 
his  hands  under  opposite  cuffs  of  his  loose  sleeves,  as. he 
stood  at  the  table^  deferentially  observant  of  the 
master’s  face.  ^^May  I take  the  liberty  to  say  some- 
thing?” 

You  may,”  Fledgeby  graciously  conceded. 

'^Do  you  not,  sir — ivithout  intending  it — of  a surety 
without  intending  it — sometimes  mingle  the  character 
I fairly  earn  in  your  employment,  with  the  character 
which  it  is  your  policy  that  I should  bear?” 

^^I  don’t  find  it  worth  my  while  to  cut  things  so  fine 
as  to  go  into  the  inquiry,”  Fascination  coolly  answered. 

Not  in  justice?  ’’ 

Bother  justice!”  said  Fledgeby. 

Not  in  generosity  ?” 

^^Jews  and  generosity!”  said  Fledgeby.  ‘‘That’s  a 
good  connection!  Bring  out  your  vouchers,  and  don’t 
talk  Jerusalem  palaver.” 


5 


LODGERS  IN  QUEER  STREET. 

The  vouchers  were  produced,  and  for  the  next  half- 
hour  Mr.  Fledgeby  concentrated  his  sublime  attention 
on  them.  They  and  the  accounts  were  all  found  cor- 
rect, and  the  books  and  the  papers  resumed  their  places 
in  the  bag. 

Next,’’  said  Fledgeby,  concerning  that  bill-broking 
branch  of  the  business;  the  branch  I like  best.  What 
queer  bills  are  to  be  bought,  and  at  what  prices?  You 
have  got  your  your  list  of  what’s  in  the  market?” 

Sir,  a long  list,”  replied  Riah,  taking  out  a pocket- 
book,  and  selecting  from  its  contents  a folded  paper, 
which,  being  unfolded,  became  a sheet  of  foolscap 
covered  with  close  writing. 

‘^Whew!”  whistled  Fledgeby,  as  he  took  it  in  his 
hand.  ''  Queer  Street  is  full  of  lodgers  just  at  present ! 
These  are  to  be  disposed  of  in  parcels  ; are  they  ? ” 

‘'In  parcels,  as  set  forth,”  returned  the  old  man, 
looking  over  his  master’s  shoulder  ; “ or  the  lump.” 

“ Half  the  lump  will  be  waste-paper,  one  knows  be- 
forehand,” said  Fledgeby.  “Can  you  get  it  at  waste- 
paper  price  ? That’s  the  question.” 

feah  shook  his  head,  and  Fledgeby  cast  his  small 
eyes  down  the  list.  They  presently  began  to  twinkle, 
and  he  no  sooner  became  conscious  of  their  twinkling 
than  he  looked  up  over  his  shoulder  at  the  grave  face 
above  him,  and  moved  to  the  chimney-piece.  Making 
a desk  of  it,  he  stood  there  with  his  back  to  the  old  man, 
warming  his  knees,  perusing  the  list  at  his  leisure, 
and  often  returning  to  some  lines  of  it,  as  though  they 
were  particularly  interesting.  At  those  times  he 
glanced  in  the  chimney-glass  to  see  what  note  the  old 
man  took  of  him.  He  took  none  that  could  be  detected, 
but,  aware  of  his  employer’s  suspicions,  stood  with  his 
eyes  on  the  ground. 

Mr.  Fledgeby  was  thus  amiably  engaged  when  a step 
was  heard  at  the  outer  door,  and  the  door  was  heard  to 
open  hastily.  “ Hark  ! That’s  your  doing,  you  Pump 
of  Israel,”  said  Fledgeby;  “you  can’t  have  shut  it.” 
Then  the  step  was  heard  within,  and  the  voice  of  Mr. 
Alfred  Lammle  called  aloud,  “Are  you  anywhere  here, 
Fledgeby  ? ” To  which  Fledgeby,  after  cautioning 
Riah  in  a low  voice  to  take  his  cue  as  it  should  be 
given  him,  replied,  “Here  I am  !”  and  opened  his  bed- 
room door. 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


'^•Come  in  said  Fledgeby.  This  gentleman  is 
only  Pubsey  and  Co.  of  Saint  Mary  Axe,  that  I am  try- 
ing to  make  terms  for  an  unfortunate  friend  with  in  a 
matter  of  some  dishonoured  bills.  But  really  Pubsey 
and  Co.  are  so  strict  with  their  debtors,  and  so  hard  to 
move,  that  I seem  to  be  wasting  my  time.  Can’t  I 
make  any  terms  with  you  on  my  friend’s  part,  Mr. 
Riah?” 

I am  but  the  representative  of  another,  sir,”  returned 
the  Jew  in  a low  voice.  I do  as  I am  bidden  by  my 
principal.  It  is  not  my  capital  that  is  invested  in  the 
business.  It  is  not  my  profit  that  arises  therefrom.” 

Ha,  ha  !”  laughed  Fledgeby.  Lammle  ?” 

Ha,  ha  ! ” laughed  Lammle.  Yes.  Of  course.  We 
know.” 

Devilish  good,  ain’t  it,  Lammle?”  said  Fledgeby, 
unspeakably  amused  by  his  hidden  joke. 

Always  the  same,  always  the  same  !”  said  Lammle. 
^^Mr.— ” 

^^Riah,  Pubsey  and  Co.  Saint  Mary  Axe,”  Fledgeby 
put  in,  as  he  wiped  away  the  tears  that  trickled  from 
his  eyes,  so  rare  was  his  enjoyment  of  his  secret  joke. 

Mr.  Riah  is  bound  to  observe  the  invariable  forms 
for  such  cases  made  and  provided,”  said  Lammle. 

^^He  is  only  the  representative  of  another!”  cried 
Fledgeby.  Does  as  he  is  told  by  his  principal  I Not 
his  capital  that’s  invested  in  the  business.  Oh,  that’s 
good  ! Ha,  ha,  ha,  ha  ! ” Mr.  Lammle  joined  in  the  laugh 
and  looked  knowing ; and  the  more  he  did  both,  the 
more  exquisite  the  secret  joke  became  for  Mr.  Fledgeby. 

However,”  said  that  fascinating  gentleman,  wiping 
his  eyes  again,  if  we  go  on  in  this  way,  we  shall  seem 
to  be  almost  making  game  of  Mr.  Riah,  or  of  Pubsey 
and  Co.,  Saint  Mary  Axe,  or  of  somebody  : which  is  far 
from  our  intention.  Mr.  Riah,  if  you  would  have  the 
kindness  to  step  into  the  next  room  for  a few  moments  j 
while  I speak  with  Mr.  Lammle  here,  I should  like  to 
try  to  make  terms  with  you  once  again  before  you 
go.” 

The  old  man,  who  had  never  raised  his  eyes  during 
the  whole  transaction  of  Mr.  Fledgeby’s  joke,  silently 
bowed  and  passed  out  by  the  door  which  Fledgeby 
opened  for  him.  Having  closed  it  on  him,  Fledgeby  re- 
turned to  Lammle,  standing  with  his  back  to  the  bed- 


LODGERS  IN  QUEER  STREET. 


7 

room  fire,  with  one  hand  under  his  coat-skirts,  and  all 
his  whiskers  in  the  other. 

Halloa  ! ’’  said  Fledgeby.  There’s  something 
wrong  ! ” 

How  do  you  know  it  ?”  demanded  Lammle. 

Because  you  show  it,”  replied  Fledgeby  in  an  un- 
intentional rhyme. 

^^Well  then;  there  is,”  said  Lammle;  there  is 
something  wrong ; the  whole  thing’s  wrong.” 

^‘1  say!”  remonstrated  Fascination  very  slowly,  and 
sitting  down  with  his  hands  on  his  knees  to  stare  at  his 
glowering  friend  with  his  back  to  the  fire. 

tell  you,  Fledgeby,”  repeated  Lammle,  with  a 
sweep  of  his  right  arm,  ^Ghe  whole  thing’s  wrong. 
The  game’s  up.” 

^^What  game’s  up?”  demanded  Fledgeby,  as  slowly 
as  before,  and  more  sternly. 

The  game.  Our  game.  Read  that.” 

Fledgeby  took  a note  from  his  extended  hand  and 
read  it  aloud.  Alfred  Lammle,  Esquire.  Sir:  Allow 
Mrs.  Podsnap  and  myself  to  express  our  united  sense  of 
the  polite  attentions  of  Mrs.  Alfred  Lammle  and  your- 
self towards  our  daughter,  Georgiana.  Allow  us  also 
wholly  to  reject  them  for  the  future,  and  to  communi- 
cate our  final  desire  that  the  two  families  may  become 
entire  strangers.  I have  the  honor  to  be,  Sir,  your  most 
obedient  and  very  humble  servant,  John  Podsnap.” 
Fledgeby  looked  at  the  three  blank  sides  of  this  note, 
quite  as  long  and  earnestly  as  at  the  first  expressive 
side,  and  then  looked  at  Lammle,  who  responded  with 
another  extensive  sweep  of  his  right  arm. 

Whose  doing  is  this?  ” said  Fledgeby. 

^Hmpossible  to  imagine,”  said  Lammle. 

Perhaps,”  suggested  Fledgeby,  after  reflecting  with 
a very  discontented  brow  ^^som.ebody  has  been  giving 
you  a bad  character.” 

Or  you,”  said  Lammle,  with  a deeper  frown. 

Mr.  Fledgeby  appeared  to  be  on  the  verge  of  some 
mutinous  expressions,  when  his  hand  happened  to  touch 
his  nose.  A certain  remembrance  connected  with  that 
feature  operating  as  a timely  warning,  he  took  it 
thoughtfully  between  his  thumb  and  forefinger,  and 
pondered;  Lammle  meanwhile  eyeing  him  with  furtive 
eyes. 


8 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Well!  ’’  said  Fledgeby.  This  won’t  improve  with 
talking  about.  If  we  ever  find  out  who  did  it,  we’ll 
mark  that  person.  There’s  nothing  more  to  be  said,  ex- 
cept that  you  undertook  to  do  what  circumstances  pre- 
vent your  doing.” 

And  that  you  undertook  to  do  what  you  might  have 
done  by  this  time,  if  you  had  made  a prompter  use  of 
circumstances,”  snarled  Lammle. 

"'Hah!  That,”  remarked  Fledgeby  with  his  hands  in 
the  Turkish  trousers,  is  matter  of  opinion.” 

'^Mr.  Fledgeby,”  said  Lammle  in  a bullying  tone, 

am  I to  understand  that  you  in  any  way  refiect  upon 
me,  or  hint  dissatisfaction  with  me,  in  this  affair?” 

No,”  said  Fledgeby;  ^‘  provided  you  have  brought 
my  promissory  note  in  your  pocket,  and  now  hand  it 
over.” 

Lammle  produced  it,  not  without  reluctance.  Fledge- 
by looked  at  it,  identified  it,  twisted  it  up,  and  threw  it 
into  the  fire.  They  both  looked  at  it  as  it  blazed,  went 
out,  and  flew  in  feathery  ash  up  the  chimney. 

'‘Now,  Mr.  Fledgeby,”  said  Lammle  as  before;  '‘  am 
I to  understand  that  you  in  any  way  reflect  upon  me, 
or  hint  dissatisfaction  with  me  in  this  affair  ?” 

"No,”  said  Fledgeby. 

"Finally  and  unreservedly  no  ?” 

"Yes.” 

" Fledgeby,  my  hand.” 

Mr.  Fledgeby  took  it,  saying,  "And  if  we  ever  find 
oiit  who  did  this,  we’ll  mark  that  person.  And,  in  the 
most  friendly  manner,  let  me  mention  one  thing  more. 
I don’t  know  what  your  ciiicumstances  are,  and  I don’t 
ask.  You  have  sustained  a loss  here.  Many  men  are 
liable  to  be  involved  at  times,  and  you  may  be,  or  you 
may  not  be.  But  whatever  you  do,  Lammle,  don’t — 
don’t — don’t,  I beg  of  you — ever  fall  into  the  hands  of 
Pubsey  and  Co.  in  the  next  room,  for  they  are  grinders. 
Regular  flayers  and  grinders,  my  dear  Lammle,”  re- 
peated Fledgeby  with  a peculiar  relish,  " and  they’ll 
skin  you  by  the  inch,  from  the  nape  of  your  neck  to  the 
sole  of  your  foot,  and  grind  every  inch  of  your  skin  to. 
tooth-powder.  You  have  seen  what  Mr.  Riah  is.  Never 
falls  into  his  hands,  Lammle,  I beg  of  you  as  a friend!” 

Mr.  Lammle,  disclosing  some  alarm  at  the  solemnity 
of  this  affectionate  adjuration,  demanded  why  the 


LODGERS  IN  QUEER  STREET.  9 

devil  he  ever  should  fall  into  the  hands  of  Pubsey  and 
Co.? 

''  To  confess  the  fact,  I was  made  a little  uneasy,*' 
said  the  candid  Fledgeby,  ‘‘  by  the  manner  in  which 
that  Jew  looked  at  you  when  he  heard  your  name.  1 
didn’t  like  his  eye.  But  it  may  have  been  the  heated 
fancy  of  a friend.  Of  course,  if  you  are  sure  that  you 
have  no  personal  security  out,  which  you  may  not  be 
quite  equal  to  meeting,  and  which  can  have  got  into 
his  hands,  it  must  have  been  fancy.  Still  I didn’t  like 
his  eye.” 

The  brooding  Lammle,  with  certain  white  dints  com- 
ing and  going  in  his  palpitating  nose,  looked  as  if  some 
tormtenting  imp  were  pinching  it.  Fledgeby,  watching 
him  with  a twitch  in  his  mean  face,  which  did  duty 
there  for  a smile,  looked  very  like  the  tormentor  who 
was  pinching. 

“ But  I mustn’t  keep  him  waiting  too  long,”  said 
Fledgeby,  “ or  he’ll  revenge  it  on  my  unfortunate 
friend.  How’s  your  very  clever  and  agreeable  wife  ? 
She  knows  we  have  broken  down?” 

“ I showed  her  the  letter.” 

“ Very  much  surprised  ? ” asked  Fledgeby. 

“I  think  she  would  have  been  more  so,”  answered 
Lammle,  “ if  there  had  been  more  go  in  you.^^ 

“ Oh! — She  lays  it  upon  me,  then?  ” 

“ Mr.  Fledgeby,  I will  not  have  my  words  miscon- 
strued.” 

, “ Don’t  break  out,  Lammle,”  urged  Fledgeby,  in  a 
submissive  tone,  “because  there’s  no  occasion.  I only 
asked  a question.  Then  she  don’t  lay  it  upon  me?  To 
ask  another  question.” 

“No,  sir.” 

“ Very  good,”  said  Fledgeby,  plainly  seeing  that  she 
did.  “ My  compliments  to  her.  Good-bye  ! ” 

They  shook  hands,  and  Lammle  strode  out  pondering. 
Fledgeby  saw  him  into  the  fog,  and,  returning  to  the 
fire  and  musing  with  his  face  to  it,  stretched  the  legs  of 
the  rose-coloured  Turkish  trousers  wide  apart,  and  med- 
itatively bent  his  knees,  as  if  he  were  going  down  upon 
them. 

“ Yoii  have  a pair  of  whiskers,  Lammle,  which  I never 
liked,”  murmured  Fledgeby,  “and  which  money  can’t 
produce;  you  are  boastful  of  your  manners  and  your 


10 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


conversation;  you  wanted  to  pull  my  nose,  and  you 
have  let  me  in  for  a failure,  and  your  wife  says  I 
am  the  cause  of  it.  Til  bowl  you  down.  I will,  though 
I have  no  whiskers,”  here  he  rubbed  the  places  where 
they  were  due  ^^and  no  manners  and  no  conversa- 
tion ! ” 

Having  thus  relieved  his  noble  mind,  he  collected  the 
legs  of  the  Turkish  trousers,  straightened  himself  on  his 
knees,  and  called  out  to  Riah  in  the  next  room,  Halloa, 
you  sir!  ” At  sight  of  the  old  man  re-entering  with  a 
gentleness  monstrously  in  contrast  with  the  character 
he  had  given  him,  Mr.  Fledgeby  was  so  tickled  again, 
that  he  exclaimed,  laughing,  ‘‘Good!  Good!  Upon 
my  soul  it  is  uncommon  good  ! ” 

''Now,  old 'un,”  proceeded  Fledgeby,  when  he  had 
had  his  laugh  out.  "you’ll  buy  up  these  lots  that  I mark 
with  my  pencil — there’s  a tick  there,  and  a tick  there, 
and  a tick  there — and  I wager  twopence  you’ll  after- 
wards go  on  squeezing  those  Christians  like  the  Jew 
you  are.  Now,  next  you’ll  want  a cheque — or  you’ll  say 
you  want  it,  though  you've  capital  enough  somewhere, 
if  one  only  knew  where,  but  you’d  be  peppered  and 
salted  and  grilled  on  a gridiron  before  you’d  own  to  it — 
and  that  cheque  I’ll  write.” 

When  he  had  unlocked  a drawer,  and  taken  a key 
from  it  to  open  another  drawer,  in  which  was  another 
key  that  opened  another  drawer,  in  which  was  another 
key  that  opened  another  drawer,  in  which  was  the 
cheque-book;  and  when  he  had  written  the  cheque; 
and  when,  reversing  the  key  and  drawer  process,  he  had 
placed  his  cheque-book  in  safety  again;  he  beckoned 
the  old  man,  with  the  folded  cheque  to  come  and  take  it. 

" Old  ’un,”  said  Fledgeby,  when  the  Jew  had  put  it  in 
his  pocket-book,  and  was  putting  that  in  the  breast  of 
his  outer  garment;  "so  much  at  present  for  my  affairs.  ; 
Now  a word  about  affairs  that  are  not  exactly  mine. 
Where  is  she?” 

With  his  hand  not  yet  withdrawn  from  the  breast  of 
his  garment,  Riah  started  and  paused. 

"Oho!”  said  Fledgeby.  "Didn’t  expect  it!  Where 
have  you  hidden  her?” 

Showing  that  he  was  taken  by  surprise,  the  oid  man 
looked  at  his  master  with  some  passing  confusion, 
which  the  master  highly  enjoyed. 


LODGERS  IN  QUEER  STREET.  il 

Is  she  in  the  house  I pay  rent  and  taxes  for  in  Saint 
Mary  Axe?”  demanded  Fled^eby. 

''No,  sir.” 

" Is  she  in  your  garden  up  atop  of  that  house — gone 
up  to  be  dead,  or  whatever  the  game  is?”  asked  Fledge- 
by. 

"No,  sir.” 

" Where  is  she  then?” 

Riah  bent  his  eyes  upon  the  ground,  as  if  considering 
whether  he  could  answer  the  question  without  breach 
of  faith,  and  then  silently  raised  them  to  Fledgeby’s 
face,  as  if  he  could  not. 

"Come!”  said  Fledgeby.  "I  woiTt  press  that  just 
now.  But  I want  to  know  this,  and  I will  know  this, 
mind  you.  What  are  you  up  to?” 

The  old  man,  with  an  apologetic  action  of  his  head 
and  hands,  as  not  comprehending  the  master’s  mean- 
ing, addressed  to  him  a look  of  mute  inquiry. 

" You  can’t  be  a gallivanting  dodger,”  said  Fledgeby, 
" For  you’re  a regular  ' pity  the  sorrows,’  you  know — if 
you  do  know  any  Christian  rhyme — ' whose  trembling 
limbs  have  borne  him  to’ — et  cetrer.  You’re  one  of  the 
Patriarchs  ; you’re  a shaky  old  card  ; and  you  can’t  be 
in  love  with  this  Lizzie  ? ” 

" Oh,  sir  I ” expostulated  Riah.  " Qh,  sir,  sir,  sir  ! ” 

" Then  why,”  retorted  Fledgeby,  with  some  slight 
tinge  of  a blush,  " don’t  you  out  with  your  reason  for 
having  your  spoon  in  the  soup  at  all  ? ” 

" Sir,  I will  tell  you  the  truth.  But  (your  pardon  for 
the  stipulation)  it  is  in  sacred  confidence  ; it  is  strictly 
upon  honour.” 

" Honour  too  !”  cried  Fledgeby  with  a mocking  lip. 
" Honour  among  Jews.  Well.  Cut  away.” 

" It  is  upon  honour,  sir  ?”  the  other  still  stipulated  with 
respectful  firmness. 

" Oh,  certainly.  Honour  bright,”  said  Fledgbby. 

The  old  man,  never  bidden  to  sit  down,  stood  with  an 
earnest  hand  laid  on  the  back  of  the  young  man’s  easy 
chair.  The  young  man  sat  looking  at  the  fire  with  a 
face  of  listening  curiosity,  ready  to  check  him  off,  and 
catch  him  tripping. 

"Cut  away,”  said  Fledgeby.  "Start  with  your  mo- 
tive.” 

" Sir,  I have  no  motive  but  to  help  the  helpless.” 


12 


OUE  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Mr.  Fledgeby  could  only  express  the  feelings  to  which 
this  incredible  statement  gave  rise  in  his  breast,  by  a 
prodigiously  long  derisive  sniff. 

^^How  I came  to  know,  and  much  to  esteem  and 
to  respect,  this  damsel,  I mentioned  when  you  saw  her 
in  my  poor  garden  on  the  housetop,”  said  the  Jew. 

‘^Did  you?”  said  Fledgeby  distrustfully.  "‘Well, 
perhaps  you  did,  though.” 

“ The  better  I knew  her,  the  more  interest  I felt  in 
her  fortunes.  They  gathered  to  a crisis.  I found  her 
beset  by  a selfish  and  ungrateful  brother,  beset  by  an 
unacceptable  wooer,  beset  by  the  snares  of  a more 
powerful  lover,  beset  by  the  wiles  of  her  own  heart.” 

“ She  took  to  one  of  the  chaps,  then  ? ” 

“Sir,  it  was  only  natural  that  she  should  incline  to- 
wards him,  for  he  had  many  and  great  advantages. 
But  he  was  not  of  her  station,  and  to  marry  her  was 
not  in  his  mind.  Perils  were  closing  round  her,  and 
the  circle  was  fast  darkening,  when  I — being  as  you 
have  said,  sir,  too  old  and  broken  to  be  suspected  of  any 
feeling  for  her  but  a father’s — stepped  in,  and  coun- 
selled flight.  I said,  " My  daughter,  there  are  times  of 
moral  danger  when  the  hardest  virtuous  resolution  to 
form  is  flight,  and  when  the  most  heroic  bravery  is 
flight.’  She  answered,  she  had  had  this  in  her  thoughts; 
but  whither  to  fly  without  help  she  knew  not,  and  there 
were  none  to  help  her.  I showed  her  there  was  one  to 
help  her,  and  it  was  I.  And  she  is  gone.  ” 

“What  did  you  do  with  her  ?”  asked  Fledgeby,  feel- 
ing his  cheek. 

“ I placed  her,”  said  the  old  man,  “at  a distance;” 
with  a grave  smooth  outward  sweep  from  one  another 
of  his  two  open  hands  at  arm’s  length;  “at  a distance — 
among  certain  of  our  people,  where  her  industry  would 
serve  her,  and  where  she  could  hope  to  exercise  it,  un- 
assailed from  any  quarter.” 

Fledgeby’s  eyes  had  come  from  the  fire  to  notice  the 
action  of  his  hands  when  he  said  “at  a distance,” 
Fledgeby  now  tried  (very  unsuccessfully)  to  imitate 
that  action,  as  he  shook  his  head  and  said,  “Placed  her 
in  that  direction,  did  you  ? Oh,  you  circular  old  dodger!  ” 

With  one  hand  across  his  breast  and  the  other  on  the 
easy  chair,  Riah,  without  justifying  himself,  waited  for 
fuither  questioning.  But,  that  it  was  hopeless  to  ques- 


LODGERS  IN  QUEER  STREET. 


13 


tion  him  on  that  one  reserved  point,  Fledgeby,  with  his 
small  eyes  too  near  together,  saw  full  well. 

''  Lizzie,”  said  Fledgeby,  looking  at  the  fire  again,  and 
then  looking  up.  Humph,  Lizzie.  You  didn’t  tell  me 
the  other  name  in  your  garden  atop  of  the  house.  I’ll 
be  more  communicative  with  you.  The  other  name’s 
Hexam.  ” 

Riah  bent  his  head  in  assent. 

^'Look  here,  you  sir,”  said  Fledgeby.  ''I  have  a 
notion  I know  something  of  the  inveigling  chap,  the 
powerful  one.  Has  he  anything  to  do  with  the 
law  ?” 

‘^Nominally,  I believe  it  his  calling.” 

I thought  so.  Name  anything  like  Lightwood?” 

Sir,  not  at  all  like.” 

Come,  old  ’un,”  said  Fledgeby,  meeting  his  eyes 
with  a wink,  say  the  name.” 

‘‘  Wray  burn.” 

By  Jupiter!  ” cried  Fledgeby.  That  one,  is  it  ? I 
thought  it  might  be  the  other,  but  I never  dreamt  of  that 
one!  I shouldn’t  object  to  your  baulking  either  of  the 
pair,  dodger,  for  they  are  both  conceited  enough;  but 
that  one  is  as  cool  a customer  as  ever  I met  with.  Got 
aboard  besides,  and  presumes  upon  it.  Well  done,  old 
’un.  Go  on  and  prosper!  ” 

Brightened  by  this  unexpected  commendation,  Riah 
asked  were  there  more  instructions  for  him? 

^‘  No,”  said  Fledgeby,  ^^you  may  toddle  now,  Judah, 
and  grope  about  on  the  orders  you  have  got.”  Dismissed 
with  those  pleasing  words,  the  old  man  took  his  broad 
hat  and  staff,  and  left  the  great  presence:  more  as 
if  he  were  some  superior  creature  benignantly  bless- 
ing Mr.  Fledgeby  than  the  poor  dependant  on  whom  he 
set  his  foot.  Left  alone,  Mr.  Fledgeby  locked  the  outer 
door,  and  came  back  to  his  fire. 

Well  done  you!  ” said  Fascination  to  himself.  Slow 
you  may  be  ; sure  you  are!”  This  he  twice  or  thrice 
repeated,  with  much  complacency,  as  he  again  dispersed 
the  legs  of  the  Turkish  trousers  and  bent  the  knees. 

A tidy  shot  that,  I flatter  myself,”  he  then  solilo- 
quised. And  a Jew  brought  down  with  it!  Now, 
when  I heard  the  story  told  at  Lammle’s,  I didn’t  make 
a jump  at  Riah.  Not  a bit  of  it;  I got  at  him  by  degrees.” 
Herein  he  was  quite  accurate;  it  being  his  habit  not  to 


14 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


jump,  or  leap,  or  make  an  upward  spring,  at  anything 
in  life,  but  to  crawl  at  everything. 

got  at  him,^’  pursued  Fledgeby,  feeling  for  his 
whisker,  by  degrees.  If  your  Lammles  or  your  Light- 
woods  had  got  at  him  anyhow,  they  would  have  asked 
him  the  question  whether  he  hadn’t  something  to  do 
with  that  gal’s  disappearance.  I knew  a better  way  of 
going  to  work.  Having  got  behind  the  hedge,  and  put 
him  in  the  light,  I took  a shot  at  him,  and  brought  him 
down  plump.  Oh!  It  don’t  count  for  much,  being  a 
Jew,  in  a match  against  me/” 

Another  dry  twist  in  place  of  a smile  made  his  face 
crooked  here. 

''As  to  Christians,”  proceeded  Fledgeby,  "look  out, 
fellow-Christians,  particularly  you  that  lodge  in  Queer 
Street!  I have  got  the  run  of  Queer  Street  now,  and 
you  shall  see  some  games  there.  To  work  a lot  of 
power  over  you,  and  you  not  know  it,  knowing  as  you 
think  yourselves,  would  be  almost  worth  laying  out 
money  upon.  But,  when  it  comes  to  squeezing  a profit 
out  of  you  into  the  bargain,  it’s  something  like!  ” 

With  this  apostrophe  Mr.  Fledgeby  appropriately  pro- 
ceeded to  divest  himself  of  his  Turkish  garments,  and 
invest  himself  with  Christian  attire.  Pending  which 
operation  and  his  morning  ablutions,  and  his  anointing 
of  himself  with  the  last  infallible  preparation  for  the 
production  of  luxuriant  and  glossy  hair  upon  the  human 
countenance  (quacks  being  the  only  sages  he  believed 
in  besides  usurers),  the  murky  fog  closed  about  him  and 
shut  him  up  in  its  sooty  embrace.  If  it  had  never  let 
him  out  any  more,  the  world  would  have  had  no  irre- 
parable loss,  but  could  have  easily  replaced  him  from 
its  stock  on  hand. 


CHAPTER  II. 

A RESPECTED  FRIEND  IN  A NEW  ASPECT. 

TN  the  evening  of  this  same  foggy  day,  when  the  yel- 
low window-blind  of  Pubsey  and  Co.  was  drawn  down 
upon  the  day’s  work,  Riah  the  Jew  once  more  came  forth 
into  Saint  Mary  Axe.  But  this  time  he  carried  no  bag, 


m A NEW  ASPECT. 


15 


and  was  not  bound  on  his  master- s affairs.  He  passed 
over  London  Bridge,  and  returned  to  the  Middlesex  shore 
by  that  of  Westminster,  and  so,  ever  wading  through 
the  fog,  waded  to  the  doorstep  of  the  doll’s  dressmaker. 

Miss  Wren  expected  him.  He  could  see  her  through 
the  window  by  the  light  of  her  low  fire — carefully 
banked  up  with  damp  cinders,  that  it  might  last  the 
longer  and  waste  the  less  when  she  was  out — sitting 
waiting  for  him  in  her  bonnet.  His  tap  at  the  glass 
roused  her  from  the  musing  solitude  in  which  she  sat, 
and  she  came  to  the  door  to  open  it ; aiding  her  steps 
with  a little  crutch-stick. 

Good  evening,  godmother  ! ” said  Miss  Jenny  Wren. 

The  old  man  laughed,  and  gave  her  his  arm  to  lean  on. 

Won’t  you  come  in  and  warm  yourself,  godmother  ? ” 
asked  Miss  Jenny  Wren. 

^^Not  if  you  are  ready,  Cinderella,  my  dear.” 

Well  !”  exclaimed  Miss  Wren,  delighted.  ^^Now 
you  ARE  a clever  old  boy  ! If  we  gave  prizes  at  this 
establishment  (but  we  only  keep  blanks),  you  should 
have  the  first  silver  medal  for  taking  me  up  so  quick.” 
As  she  spake  thus.  Miss  Wren  removed  the  key  of  the 
house-door  from  the  keyhole,  and  put  it  in  her  pocket, 
and  then  bustlingly  closed  the  door,  and  tried  it  as  they 
both  stood  on  the  step.  Satisfied  that  her  dwelling  was 
safe,  she  drew  one  hand  through  the  old  man’s  arm,  and 
f)repared  to  ply  her  crutch-stick  with  the  other.  But  the 
key  was  an  instrument  of  such  gigantic  proportions 
that,  before  they  started,  Riah  proposed  to  carry  it. 

'^No,  no,  no!  I’ll  carry  it  myself,”  returned  Miss 
Wren.  I’m  awfully  lopsided,  you  know,  and  stowed 
down  in  my  pocket  it’ll  trim  the  ship.  To  let  you  into 
a secret,  godmother,  I wear  my  pocket  on  my  high  side, 
o’  purpose.” 

With  that  they  began  their  plodding  through  the  fog. 

^^Yes,  it  was  truly  sharp  of  you,  godmother,”  re- 
sumed Miss  Wren  with  great  approbation,  to  under- 
stand me.  But,  you  see,  you  are  so  like  the  fairy  god- 
mother in  the  bright  little  books  ! You  look  so  unlike 
the  rest  of  people,  and  so  much  as  if  you  had  changed 
yourself  into  that  shape,  just  this  moment,  with  some 
benevolent  object.  Boh!”  cried  Miss  Jenny,  putting 
her  face  close  to  the  old  man’s.  can  see  your  fea- 
tures, godmother,  behind  the  beard.” 


16 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Does  the  fancy  go  to  my  changing  other  objects  too, 
Jenny 

Ah  ! That  it  does  ! If  you'd  only  borrow  my  stick 
and  tap  this  piece  of  pavement — this  dirty  stone  that 
my  foot  taps — it  would  start  up  a coach  and  six.  I say  ! 
Let's  believe  so  ! " 

With  all  my  heart,"  replied  the  good  old  man. 

And  I'll  tell  you  what  I must  ask  you  to  do,  god- 
mother. I must  ask  you  to  be  so  kind  as  to  give  my 
child  a tap,  and  change  him  altogether.  Oh,  my  child 
has  been  such  a bad,  bad  child  of  late  ! It  worries  me 
nearly  out  of  my  wits.  Not  done  a stroke  of  work  these 
ten  days.  Has  had  the  horrors,  too,  and  fancied  that 
four  copper-coloured  men  in  red  wanted  to  throw  him 
into  a fiery  furnace." 

^'But  that's  dangerous,  Jenny." 

Dangerous,  godmother  ? My  bad  child  is  always 
dangerou-s,  more  or  less.  He  might" — here  the  little 
creature  glanced  back  over  her  shoulder  at  the  sky — 
‘^be  setting  the  house  on  fire  at  this  present  moment. 
I don't  know  who  would  have  a child,  for  my  part  ! It's 
no  use  shaking  him.  I have  shaken  him  till  I have 
made  myself  giddy.  ^ Why  don't  you  mind  your  Com- 
mandments and  honour  your  parent,  you  naughty  old 
boy  ? ' I said  to  him  all  the  time.  But  he  only  whim- 
pered and  stared  at  me." 

What  shall  be  changed  after  him  ?"  asked  Riah  in 
a compassionately  playful  voice. 

Upon  my  word,  godmother,  I am  afraid  I must  be 
selfish  next,  and  get  you  to  set  me  right  in  the  back 
and  legs.  It's  a little  thing  to  you  with  your  power, 
godmother,  but  it's  a great  deal  to  poor  weak  aching 
me." 

There  was  no  querulous  complaining  in  the  words,' 
but  they  were  not  the  less  touching  for  that. 

And  then  ? " 

'Wes,  and  then — you  know,  godmother.  We'll  both 
jump  up  into  the  coach  and  six,  and  go  to  Lizzie.  This 
reminds  me,  godmother,  to  ask  you  a serious  question. 
You  are  as  wise  as  wise  can  be  (having  been  brought 
up  by  the  fairies),  and  you  can  tell  me  this  : Is  it  better 
to  have  had  a good  thing  and  lost  it,  or  never  to  have 
had  it  ? " 

Explain,  god-daughter." 


IN  A NEW  ASPECT. 


ir 

I feel  so  much  more  solitary  and  helpless  without 
Lizzie  now  than  I used  to  feel  before  I knew  her.’^ 
(Tears  were  in  her  eyes  as  she  said  so.) 

Some  beloved  companionship  fades  out  of  most  lives, 
my  dear/’  said  the  Jew, — ''that  of  a wife,  and  a fair 
daughter,  and  a son  of  promise,  has  faded  out  of  my 
own  life — but  the  happiness  was.” 

"Ah!”  said  Miss  Wren  thoughtfully,  by  no  means 
convinced,  and  chopping  the  exclamation  with  that 
sharp  little  hatchet  of  hers;  "then  I tell  you  what 
change  I think  you  had  better  begin  with,  godmother. 
You  had  better  change  Is  into  Was,  and  Was  into  Is, 
and  keep  them  so.” 

"Would  that  suit  your  case  ? Vfould  you  not  be  al- 
ways in  pain  then  ? ” asked  the  old  man  tenderly. 

"Right  I”  exclaimed  Miss  Wren  with  another  chop. 
"You  have  changed  me  wiser,  godmother. — Not,”  she 
added  with  the  quaint  hitch  of  her  chin  and  eyes,  " that 
yon  need  be  a very  wonderful  godmother  to  do  that 
deed.” 

Thus  conversing,  and  having  crossed  Westminster 
Bridge,  they  traversed  the  ground  that  Riah  had  lately 
traversed,  and  new  ground  likewise  ; for,  when  they 
had  recrossed  the  Thames  by  way  of  London  Bridge, 
they  struck  down  by  the  river  and  held  their  still 
foggier  course  that  way.  ^ • 

But  previously  as  they  were  going  along,*J enny  twisted 
her  venerable  friend  aside  to  a brilliantly-lighted  toy- 
shop window,  and  said:  "Now  look  at ’em  1 All  my 
work  ! ” 

This  referred  to  a dazzling  semicircle  of  dolls  in  all 
the  colours  of  the  rainbow,  who  were  dressed  for 
presentation  at  court,  for  going  to  balls,  for  going  out 
driving,  for  going  out  on  horseback,  for  going  out  walk- 
ing, for  going  tq  get  married,  for  going  to  help  other 
dolls  to  get  married,  for  all  the  gay  events  of  life. 

"Pretty,  pretty,  pretty!”  said  the  old  man  with  a 
clap  of  his  hands.  "Most  elegant  taste  !” 

"Glad  you  like  ’em,”  returned  Miss  Wren,  loftily. 
" But  the  fun  is,  godmother,  how  I make  the  great  ladies 
try  my  dresses  on.  Though  it’s  the  hardest  part  of  my 
business,  and  would  be,  even  if  my  back  were  not  bad 
and  my  legs  queer.” 

He  looked  at  her  as  not  understanding  what  she  said. 

VOL.  II.  2 


1.^ 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


''Bless  you,  godmother, ’’  said  Miss  Wren,  " I have 
to  scud  about  town  at  all  hours.  If  it  was  only  sitting 
at  my  bench,  cutting  out  and  sewing,  it  would  be  com- 
paratively easy  work;  but  it’s  the  trying-on  by  the  great 
ladies  that  takes  it  out  of  me.” 

"How  the  trying-on  ?”  asked  Riah. 

"What  a moony  godmother  you  are,  after  all  ! ” re- 
turned Miss  Wren.  "Look  here.  There’s  a Drawing- 
Room,  or  a grand  day  in  the  Park,  or  a Show,  or  a Fete, 
or  what  you  like.  Very  well.  I squeeze  among  the 
crowd,  and  I look  about  me.  When  I see  a great  lady 
very  suitable  for  my  business,  I say  'You’ll  do,  my 
dear!  ’ and  I take  particular  notice  of  her,  and  run  home 
and  cut  her  out  and  baste  her.  Then  another  day  I 
come  scudding  back  again  to  try  on,  and  then  I take 
particular  notice  of  her  again.  Sometimes  she  plainly 
seems  to  say,  ' How  that  little  creature  is  staring!  ’ and 
sometimes  likes  it  and  sometimes  don’t,  but  much  more 
often  yes  than  no.  All  the  time  I am  only  saying  to 
myself,  'I  must  hollow  out  a bit  here;  I must  slope 
away  there;’  and  I am  making  a perfect  slave  of  her, 
with  making  her  try  on  my  doll’s  dress.  Evening  parties 
are  severer  work  for  me,  because  there’s  only  a doorway 
for  a full  view,  and  what  with  hobbling  among  the 
wheels  of  the  carriages  and  the  legs  of  the  horses,  I 
fdlly  expect. to  be  run  over  some  night.  However, 
there  I have  ’em,  just  the  same.  When  they  go  bobbing 
into  the  hall  from  the  carriage,  and  catch  a glimpse  of 
my  little  physiognomy  poked  out  from  behind  a police- 
man’s cape  in  the  rain,  I dare  say  they  think  I am  won- 
dering and  admiring  with  all  my  eyes  and  heart,  but 
they  little  think  they're  only  working  for  my  dolls  ! 
There  was  Lady  Belinda  Whitrose.  I made  her  do 
double  duty  in  one  night.  I said  when  she  came  out  of 
the  carriage,  ' You'll  do,  my  dear  ! ’ and  I ran  straight 
home  and  cut  her  out  and  basted  her.  Back  I came 
again,  and  waited  behind  the  men  that  called  the 
carriages.  Very  bad  night  too.  At  last,  'Lady  Be- 
linda Whitrose’s  carriage  ! Lady  Belinda  Whitrose 
coming  down  ! ’ And  I made  her  try  on — oh  ! and  take 
pains  about  it  too — before  she  got  seated.  That’s  Lady 
Belinda  hanging  up  by  the  waist,  much  to  near  the  gas- 
light for  a wax  one,  with  her  toes  turned  in.” 

When  they  had  plodded  on  for  some  time  nigh  the 


IN  A NEW  ASPECT. 


19 


river,  Riah  asked  the  way  to  a certain  tavern  called 
the  Six  Jolly  Fellowship-Porters.  Following  the  direc- 
tions he  received,  they  arrived,  after  two  or  three  puz- 
zled stoppages  for  consideration,  and  some  uncertain 
looking  about  them,  at  the  door  of  Miss  Abbey  Potter- 
son’s  dominions.  A peep  through  the  glass  portion  of 
the  door  revealed  to  them  the  glories  of  the  bar,  and 
Miss  Abbey  herself  seated  in  state  on  her  snug  throne, 
reading  the  newspaper.  To  whom,  with  deference,  they 
presented  themselves. 

Taking  her  eyes  off  her  newspaper,  and  pausing  with 
a suspended  expression  of  countenance,  as  if  she  must 
finish  the  paragraph  in  hand  before  undertaking  any 
other  business  whatever.  Miss  Abbey  demanded,  with 
some  slight  asperity,  Now  then,  what’s  for  you?’' 

Could  we  see  Miss  Potterson?”  asked  the  old  man, 
uncovering  his  head. 

You  not  only  could,  but  you  can  and  you  do,”  re- 
plied the  hostess. 

Might  we  speak  with  you,  madam?” 

By  this  time  Miss  Abbey’s  eyes  had  possessed  them- 
selves of  the  small  figure  of  Miss  Jenny  Wren.  For  the 
closer  observation  of  which.  Miss  Abbey  laid  aside  her 
newspaper,  rose,  and  looked  over  the  half-door  of  the 
bar.  The  crutch-stick  seemed  to  entreat  for  its  owner 
leave  to  come  in  and  rest  by  the  fire;  so.  Miss  Abbey 
opened  the  half-door,  and  said,  as  though  replying  to 
the  crutch-stick:  Yes,  come  in  and  rest  by  the  fire.” 

My  name  is  Riah,”  said  the  old  man,  with  courteous 
action,  ^'and  my  avocation  is  in  London  city.  This,  my 
young  companion .” 

Stop  a bit,”  interposed  Miss  Wren.  I’ll  give  the 
lady  my  card.”  She  produced  it  from  her  pocket  with 
an  air,  after  struggling  with  the  gigantic  door-key 
which  had  got  upon  the  top  of  it  and  kept  it  down. 
Miss  Abbey,  with  manifest  tokens  of  astonishment, 
took  the  diminutive  document,  and  found  it  to  run  con- 
cisely thus  : — 


Miss  JENNY  WEEN, 

doll’s  dressmaker. 



DoUs  attended  at  their  own  residences. 


20 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


‘^Lud!^’  exclaimed  Miss  Potterson,  staring.  And 
dropped  the  card. 

^'We  take  the  liberty  of  coming,  my  young  com- 
panion and  I,  madam,’’  said  Riah,  on  behalf  of  Lizzie 
Hexam.” 

Miss  Potterson  was  stooping  to  loosen  the  bonnet- 
strings  of  the  doll’s  dressmaker.  She  looked  round 
rather  angrily,  and  said:  '^Lizzie  Hexam  is  a very 
proud  young  woman.” 

She  would  be  so  proud,”  returned  Riah,  dexterously, 
‘‘to  stand  well  in  your  good  opinion,  that  before  she 
quitted  London  for ” 

“ For  where,  in  the  name  of  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope?  ” 
asked  Miss  Potterson,  as  though  supposing  her  to  have 
emigrated. 

“For  the  country,”  was  the  cautious  answer, — “she 
made  us  promise  to  come  and  show  you  a paper,  which 
she  left  in  our  hands  for  that  special  purpose.  I am  an 
unserviceable  friend  of  hers,  who  began  to  know  her 
after  her  departure  from  this  neighbourhood.  She  has 
been  for  some  time  living  with  my  young  companion, 
and  has  been  a helpful  and  a comfortable  friend  to  her. 
Much  needed,  madam,”  he  added  in  a lower  voice. 
“ Believe  me  ; if  you  knew  all,  much  needed.” 

“ I can  believe  that,”  said  Miss  Abbey  with  a soften- 
ing glance  at  the  little  creature. 

“ And  if  it’s  proud  to  have  a heart  that  never  hardens, 
and  a temper  that  never  tires,  and  a touch  that  never 
hurts,”  Miss  Jenny  struck  in,  flushed,  “ she  is  proud. 
And  if  it’s  not,  she  is  not.” 

Her  set  purpose  of  contradicting  Miss  Abbey  point 
blank  was  so  far  from  offending  that  dread  authority, 
as  to  elicit  a gracious  smile.  “You  do  right,  child,” 
said  Miss  Abbey,  “ to  speak  well  of  those  who  deserve 
well  of  you.” 

“ Right  or  wrong,”  muttered  Miss  Wren,  inaudibly, 
^with  a visible  hitch  of  her  chin,  “I  mean  to  do  it,  and 
you  may  make  up  your  mind  to  that,  old  lady.” 

“ Here  is  the  paper,  madam,”  said  the  Jew,  delivering 
into  Miss  Potterson’s  hands  the  original  document 
drawn  up  by  Rokesmith,  and  signed  by  Riderhood. 
“Will  you  please  to  read  it  ? ” 

“ But,  first  of  all,”  said  Miss  Abbey,” — did  you  ever 
taste  shrub,  child  ? ” 


IN  A NEW  ASPECT. 


21 


Miss  Wren  shook  her  head. 

Should  you  like  to  ? ” 

''Should  if  it’s  good/’  returned  Miss  Wren. 

"You  shall  try.  And,  if  you  find  it  good,  I’ll  mix 
some  for  you  with  hot  water.  Put  your  little  feet  on 
the  fender.  It’s  a cold,  cold  night,  and  the  fog  clings 
so.”  As  Miss  Abbey  helped  her  to  turn  her  chair,  her 
loosened  bonnet  dropped  on  the  floor.  "Why,  what 
lovely  hair!”  cried  Miss  Abbey.  "And  enough  to 
make  wigs  for  all  the  dolls  in  the  world.  What  a 
quantity  ! ” 

" Call  that  a quantity?  ” returned  Miss  Wren.  " Poof  ! 
What  do  you  say  to  the  rest  of  it  ? ” As  she  spoke,  she 
untied  a band,  and  the  golden  stream  fell  over  herself 
and  over  the  chair,  and  flowed  down  to  the  ground.  Miss 
Abbey’s  admiration  seemed  to  increase  her  perplexity. 
She  beckoned  the  Jew  toward  her,  as  she  reached  down 
the  shrub-bottle  from  its  niche,  and  whispered: 

" Child,  or  woman  ? ” 

"Child  in  years,”  was  the  answer;  "woman  in  self- 
reliance  and  trial.” 

" You  are  talking  about  Me,  good  people,”  thought 
Miss  Jenny,  sitting  in  her  golden  bower,  warming  her 
feet.  " I can’t  hear  what  you  say,  but  / know  your  tricks 
and  your  manners  ! ” 

The  shrub,  when  tasted  from  a spoon,  perfectly  har- 
monising with  Miss  Jenny’s  palate,  a judicious  amount 
was  mixed  by  Miss  Potterson’s  skilful  hands,  whereof 
Riah  too  partook.  After  this  preliminary.  Miss  Abbey 
read  the  document;  and,  as  often  as  she  raised  her  eye- 
brows in  so  doing,  the  watchful  Miss  Jenny  accompanied 
the  action  with  an  expressive  and  emphatic  sip  of  the 
shrup  and  water. 

" As  far  as  this  goes,”  said  Miss  Abbey  Potterson, 
when  she  had  read  it  several  times,  and  thought  about 
it,  " it  proves  (what  didn't  much  need  proving)  that 
Rogue  Riderhood  is  a villain.  I have  my  doubts 
whether  he  is  not  the  villain  who  solely  did  the  deed; 
but  I have  no  expectation  of  those  doubts  ever  being 
cleared  up  now.  I believe  I did  Lizzie’s  father  wrong, 
but  never  Lizzie’s  self;  because  when  things  were 
at  the  worst  I trusted  her,  had  perfect  confidence  in 
her,  and  tried  to  persuade  her  to  come  to  me  for  a 
refuge.  I am  very  sorry  to  have  done  a man  wrong, 


22 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


particularly  when  it  can’t  be  undone.  Be  kind  enough 
to  let  Lizzie  know  what  I say;  not  forgetting  that  if  she 
will  come  to  the  Porters,  after  all,  bygones  being  by- 
gones, she  will  find  a home  at  the  Porters,  and  a friend 
at  the  Porters.  She  knows  Miss  Abbey  of  old,  remind  ' 
her,  and  she  knows  what-like  the  home,  and  what-like 
the  friend,  is  likely  to  turn  out.  I am  generally  short 
and  sweet — or  short  and  sour,  according  as  it  may  be, 
and  as  opinions  vary — ” remarked  Miss  Abbey,  and 
that’s  about  all  I have  got  to  say,  and  enough  too.” 

But,  before  the  shrub  and  water  was  sipped  out.  Miss 
Abbey  bethought  herself  that  she  would  like  to  keep  a 
copy  of  the  paper  by  her.  It’s  not  long,  sir,”  said 
she  to  Riah,  ‘^and  perhaps  you  wouldn’t  mind  just 
jotting  it  down.”  The  old  man  willingly  put  on  his 
spectacles,  and,  standing  at  the  little  desk  in  the  corner 
where  Miss  Abbey  filed  her  receipts  and  kept  her  sample 
phials  (customers’  scores  were  interdicted  by  the  strict 
administration  of  the  Porters),  wrote  out  the  copy  in  a 
fair  round  character.  As  he  stood  there  doing  his 
methodical  penmanship,  his  ancient  scribe-like  figure 
intent  upon  the  work,  and  the  little  doll’s  dressmaker 
sitting  in  her  golden  bower  before  the  fire.  Miss  Abbey 
had  her  doubts  whether  she  had  not  dreamed  those  two 
rare  figures  into  the  bar  of  the  six  Jolly  Fellowships, 
and  might  not  wake  with  a nod  next  moment  and  find 
them  gone. 

Miss  Abbey  had  twice  made  the  experiment  of  shut- 
ting her  eyes  and  opening  them  again,  still  finding  the 
figures  there,  when,  dream-like,  a confused  hubbub 
arose  in  the  public  room.  As  she  started  up,  and  they 
all  three  looked  at  one  another,  it  became  a noise  of 
clamouring  voices  and  of  the  stir  of  feet;  then  all  the 
windows  were  heard  to  be  hastily  thrown  up,  and  shouts 
and  cries  came  floating  into  the  house  from  the  river. 
A moment  more,  and  Bob  Gliddery  came  clattering 
along  the  passage,  with  the  noise  of  all  the  nails  in  his 
boots  condensed  into  every  separate  nail. 

What  is  it  ?”  asked  Miss  Abbey. 

It’s  summat  run  down  in  the  fog,  ma’am,”  answered 
Bob.  There’s  ever  so  many  people  in  the  river.” 

^^Tell  ’em  to  put  on  all  the  kettles!”  cried  Miss  Ab- 
bey. ''  See  that  the  boiler’s  full.  Get  a bath  out.  Hang 
some  blankets  to  the  fire.  Heat  some  stone  bottles. 


m A NEW  ASPECT.  23 


Have  your  senses  about  you,  you  girls  down  stairs,  and 
use  ’em.’’ 

While  Miss  Abbey  partly  delivered  these  directions 
to  Bob — whom  she  seized  by  the  hair,  and  whose  head 
she  knocked  against  the  wall,  as  a general  injunction 
to  vigilance  and  presence  of  mind — and  partly  hailed 
the  kitchen  with  them — the  company  in  the  public 
room,  jostling  one  another,  rushed  out  to  the  causeway, 
and  the  outer  noise  increased. 

Come  and  look,”  said  Miss  Abbey  to  her  visitors. 
They  all  three  hurried  to  the  vacated  public  room,  and 
passed  by  one  of  the  windows  into  the  wooden  veran- 
dah overhanging  the  river. 

•‘Does  anybody  down  there  know  what  has  hap- 
pened ? ” demanded  Miss  Abbey,  in  her  voice  of  auth- 
ority. 

It’s  a steamer.  Miss  Abbey,”  cried  one  blurred  figure 
in  the  fog. 

‘Ht  always  is  a steamer.  Miss  Abbey,”  cried  another. 

''  Them’s  her  lights.  Miss  Abbey,”  wot  you  see  a blink- 
ing yonder,”  cried  another. 

She’s  a-blowing  off  her  steam.  Miss  Abbey,  and 
that’s  what  makes  the  fog  and  the  noise  worse,  don’t 
you  see  ? ” explained  another. 

Boats  were  putting  off,  torches  were  lighting  up, 
people  were  rushing  tumultuously  to  the  water’s  edge. 
Some  man  fell  in  with  a splash,  and  was  pulled  out 
again  with  a roar  of  laughter.  The  drags  were  called 
for.  A cry  for  the  life-buoy  passed  from  mouth  to 
mouth.  It  was  impossible  to  make  out  what  was  going 
on  upon  the  river,  for  every  boat  that  put  off  sculled 
into  the  fog  and  was  lost  to  view  at  a boat’s  length. 
Nothing  was  clear  but  that  the  unpopular  steamer  was 
assailed  with  reproaches  on  all  sides.  She  was  the 
Murderer,  bound  for  Gallows  Bay  ; she  was  the  Man- 
slaughterer,  bound  for  Penal  Settlement ; her  captain 
ought  to  be  tried  for  his  life  ; her  crew  ran  down  men  in 
row-boats  with  a relish  ; she  mashed  up  Thames  lighter- 
rneii  with  her  paddles ; she  fired  property  with  her 
funnels ; she  always  was,  and  she  always  would  be, 
wreaking  destruction  upon  somebody  or  something, 
after  the  manner  of  all  her  kind.  The  whole  bulk  of 
the  fog  teemed  with  such  taunts,  uttered  in  tones  of 
universal  hoarseness.  All  the  while  the  steamer’s 


24 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


lights  moved  spectrally  a very  little,  as  she  lay-to, 
waiting  the  upshot  of  whatever  accident  had  happened. 
Now,  she  began  burning  blue-lights.  These  made  a 
luminous  patch  about  her,  as  if  she  had  set  the  fog  on 
fire,  and  in  the  patch — the  cries  changing  their  note, 
and  becoming  more  fitful  and  more  excited — shadows  of 
men  and  boats  could  be  seen  moving,  while  voices 
shouted  : There  There  again  ! ” A couple  more 
strokes  ahead  ! Hurrah  ! Look  out  ! ” Hold 

on!”  Haul  in!”  and  the  like.  Lastly  with  a few 
tumbling  clots  of  blue  fire,  the  night  closed  in  dark 
again,  the  wheels  of  the  steamer  were  heard  revolving 
and  her  lights  glided  smoothly  away  in  the  direction  of 
the  sea. 

It  appeared  to  Miss  Abbey  and  her  two  companions 
that  a considerable  time  had  been  thus  occupied.  There 
was  now  as  eager  a set  towards  the  shore  beneath  the 
house  as  there  had  been  from  it  ; and  it  was  only  on 
the  first  boat  of  the  rush  coming  in  that  it  was  known 
what  had  occurred. 

If  that’s  Tom  Tootle?”  Miss  Abbey  made  proclama- 
tion, in  her  most  commanding  tones,  ''let  him  instantly 
come  underneath  here.” 

The  submissive  Tom  complied,  attended  by  a crowd. 

" What  is  it.  Tootle  ? ” demanded  Miss  Abbey. 

" It’s  a foreign  steamer.  Miss,  run  down  a wherry.” 

" How  many  in  the  wherry 

"One  man.  Miss  Abbey.” 

" Found  ? ” 

" Yes.  He’s  been  under  water  a long  time.  Miss;  but 
they’ve  grappled  up  the  body.” 

" Let  ’em  bring  it  here.  You,  Bob  Gliddery,  shut  the 
house-door,  and  stand  by  it  on  the  inside,  and  don’t  you 
open  till  I tell  you.  Any  police  down  there  ? ” 

"Here,  Miss  Abbey,”  was  the  official  rejoinder. 

"After  they  have  brought  the  body  in,  keep  the 
crowd  out,  will  you  ? And  help  Bob  Gliddery  to  shut 
’em  out.” 

" All  right.  Miss  Abbey.” 

The  autocratic  landlady  withdrew  into  the  house  with 
Riah  and  Miss  Jenny,  and  disposed  those  forces,  one  on 
either  side  of  her,  Avithin  the  half-door  of  the  bar,  as 
behind  a breastwork. 

"You  two  stand  close  here,”  said  Miss  Abbey,  "and 


IN  A NEW  ASPECT. 


25  * 

you’ll  come  to  no  hurt,  and  see  it  brought  in.  Bob,  you 
stand  by  the  door.” 

That  sentinel,  smartly  giving  his  rolled  shirt-sleeves 
an  extra  and  a final  tuck  on  his  shoulders,  obeyed. 

Sound  of  advancing  voices,  sound  of  advancing  steps. 
Shufiie  and  talk  without.  Momentary  pause.  Two 
peculiarly  blunt  knocks  or  pokes  at  the  door,  as  if  the 
dead  man  arriving  on  his  back  were  striking  at  it  with 
the  soles  of  his  motionless  feet. 

That’s  the  stretcher,  or  the  shutter,  whichever  of  the 
two  they  are  carrying,”  said  Miss  Abbey,  with  expe- 
rienced ear.  Open,  you  Bob  ! ” 

Door  opened.  Heavy  tread  of  laden  men.  A halt. 
A rush.  Stoppage  of  rush.  Door  shut.  Baffled  hoots 
from  the  vexed  souls  of  disappointed  outsiders. 

‘‘Come  on,  men!”  said  Miss  Abbey;  for  so  potent 
was  she  with  her  subjects  that  even  then  the  bearers 
awaited  her  permission.  “ First  floor.” 

The  entry  being  low,  and  the  staircase  being  low, 
they  so  took  up  the  burden  they  had  set  down  as  to 
carry  that  low.  The  recumbent  figure,  in  passing,  lay 
hardly  as  high  as  the  half  door. 

Miss  Abbey  started  back  at  sight  of  it.  “Why,  good 
God  ! ” said  she,  turning  to  her  two  companions,  “ that’s 
the  very  man  who  made  the  declaration  we  have  just 
had  in  our  hands.  That’s  Riderhood.” 


CHAPTER  HI. 

THE  SAME  RESPECTED  FRIEND  IN  MORE  ASPECTS  THAN  ONE. 

IN  sooth  it  is  Riderhood  and  no  other,  or  it  is  the 
outer  husk  and  shell  of  Riderhood  and  no  other,  that 
is  borne  into  Miss  Abbey’s  first-floor  bedroom.  Supple 
to  twist  and  turn  as  the  Rogue  has  ever  been,  he  is 
sufficiently  rigid  now  ; and  not  without  much  shuffling 
of  attendant  feet,  and  tilting  of  his  bier  this  way 
and  that  way,  and  peril  of  his  even  sliding  off  it  and 
being  tumbled  in  a heap  over  the  balustrades,  can  he 
be  got  up  stairs. 


■26 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


''  Fetch  a doctor/’  quoth  Miss  Abhey.  And  then, 
''Fetch  his  daughter.”  On  both  of  which  errands, 
quick  messengers  depart. 

The  doctor-seeking  messenger  meets  the  doctor  half- 
way, coming  under  convoy  of  police.  Doctor  examines 
the  dank  carcase,  and  pronounces,  not  hopefully,  that 
it  is  worth  while  trying  to  reanimate  the  same.  All 
the  best  means  are  at  once  in  action,  and  everybody 
present  lends  a hand,  and  a heart  and  soul.  No  one 
has  tlie  least  regard  for  the  man  ; with  them  all,  he  has 
been  an  object  of  avoidance,  suspicion,  and  aversion  : 
but  the  spark  of  life  within  him  is  curiously  separable 
from  himself  now,  and  they  have  a deep  interest  in  it, 
probably  because  it  is  life,  and  they  are  living  and 
must  die. 

In  answer  to  the  doctor  s inquiry  how  did  it  happen, 
and  was  anyone  to  blame,  Tom  Tootle  gives  in  his 
verdict,  unavoidable  accident,  and  no  one  to  blame  but 
the  sufferer.  "He  was  slinking  about  in  his  boat,” 
says  Tom,  "which  slinking  were,  not  to  speak  ill  of  the 
dead,  the  manner  of  the  man,  when  he  come  right 
athwart  the  steamer’s  bows,  and  she  cut  him  in  two.” 
Mr.  Tootle  is  so  far  figurative,  touching  the  dismember- 
ment, as  that  he  means  the  boat,  and  not  the  man. 
For  the  mm  lies  whole  before  them. 

Captain  Joey,  the  bottle-nosed  regular  customer  in 
the  glazed  hat,  is  a pupil  of  the  much-respected  old 
school,  and  (having  insinuated  himself  into  the  chamber 
in  the  execution  of  the  important  service  of  carrying 
the  drowned  man’s  neck-kerchief)  favours  the  doctor 
with  a sagacious  old-scholastic  suggestion  that  the  body 
should  be  hung  up  by  the  heels,  sim’lar,”  says  Captain 
Joey,  "to  mutton  in  a butcher’s  shop,”  and  should  then, 
as  a particularly  choice  manoeuvre  for  promoting  easy 
repiration,  be  rolled  upon  casks.  These  scraps  of  the 
wisdom  of  the  captain’s  ancestors  are  received  with 
such  speechless  indignation  by  Miss  Abbey,  that  she 
instantly  seizes  the  Captain  by  the  collar,  and  without 
a single  word  ejects  him,  not  presuming  to  remonstrate, 
from  the  scene. 

There  then  remain,  to  assist  the  doctor  and  Tom,  only 
those  three  other  regular  customers.  Bob  Glamour, 
William  Williams,  and  Jonathan  (family  name  of  the 
latter,  if  any,  unknown  to  mankind),  who  are  quite 


IN  MORE  ASPECTS  THAN  ONE.  27 

enough.  Miss  Abbey  having  looked  in  to  make  sure 
that  nothing  is  wanted,  descends  to  the  bar,  and  there 
awaits  the  result  with  the  gentle  Jew  and  Miss  Jenny 
Wren. 

If  you  are  not  gone  for  good,  Mr.  Riderhood,  it  would 
be  something  to  know  where  you  are  hiding  at  present. 
This  flabby  lump  of  mortality  that  we  work  so  hard  at 
with  such  patient  perseverance,  yields  no  sign  of  you. 
If  you  are  gone  for  good.  Rogue,  it  is  very  solemn,  and 
if  you  are  coming  back,  it  is  hardly  less  so.  Nay,  in 
the  suspense  and  mystery  of  the  latter  question,  involv- 
ing that  of  where  you  may  be  now,  there  is  a solemnity 
even  added  to  that  of  death,  making  us  who  are  in  at- 
tendance alike  afraid  to  look  on  you  and  to  look  olf  you, 
and  making  those  below  start  at  the  least  sound  of  a 
creaking  plank  in  the  floor. 

Stay  ! Did  that  eyelid  tremble  ? So  the  doctor,  breath- 
ing low,  and  closely  watching,  asks  himself. 

No. 

Did  that  nostril  twitch  ? 

No. 

This  artiflcial  respiration  ceasing,  do  I feel  any  faint 
flutter  under  my  hand  upon  the  chest  ? 

No. 

Over  and  over  again  No.  No.  But  try  over  and  over 
again,  nevertheless. 

See  ! A token  of  life  ! An  indubitable  token  of  life  ! 
The  spark  may  smoulder  and  go  out,  or  it  may  glow  and 
expand,  but  see  ! The  four  rough  fellows,  seeing,  shed 
tears.  Neither  Riderhood  in  this  world,  nor  Riderhood 
in  the  other,  could  draw  tears  from  them  ; but  a striv- 
ing human  soul  between  the  two  can  do  it  easily. 

He  is  struggling  to  come  back.  Now,  he  is  almost 
here,  now  he  is  far  away  again.  Now  he  is  struggling 
harder  to  get  back.  And  yet — like  us  all,  when  we 
swoon — like  us  all,  every  day  of  our  lives  when  we 
wake — he  is  instinctively  unwilling  to  be  restored  to 
the  consciousness  of  this  existence,  and  would  be  left 
dormant,  if  he  could. 

Bob  Gliddery  returns  with  Pleasant  Riderhood,  who 
was  out  when  sought  for,  and  hard  to  And.  She  has  a 
shawl  over  her  head,  and  her  flrst  action,  when  she 
takes  it  off  weeping,  and  curtsies  to  Miss  Abbey,  is  to 
wind  her  hair  up. 


28 


OtJR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Thank  you,  Miss  Abbey,  for  having  father  here.” 
am  bound  to  say,  girl,  I didn’t  know  who  it  was,” 
returns  Miss  Abbey;  ‘^but  I hope  it  would  have  been 
pretty  much  the  same  if  I had  known.” 

Poor  Pleasant,  fortified  with  a sip  of  brandy,  is  ush- 
ered into  the  first-floor  chamber.  She  could  not  express 
much  sentiment  about  her  father  if  she  were  called  upon 
to  pronounce  his  funeral  oration,  but  she  has  a greater 
tenderness  for  him  than  he  ever  had  for  her,  and  crying 
bitterly  when  she  sees  him  stretched  unconcious,  asks 
the  doctor,  with  clasped  hands:  ''Is  there  no  hope,  sir? 
Oh  poor  father  ! Is  poor  father  dead?” 

To  which  the  doctor,  on  one  knee  beside  the  body, 
busy  and  watchful,  only  rejoins  v/ithout  looking  round: 
" Now  my  girl,  unless  you  have, the  self-command  to  be 
perfectly  quiet,  I cannot  allow  you  to  remain  in  the 
room.” 

Pleasant,  consequently,  wipes  her  eyes  with  her  back- 
hair,  which  is  in  fresh  need  of  being  vv^ound  up,  and 
having  got  it  out  of  the  way,  watches  with  terrified  in- 
terest all  that  goes  on.  Her  natural  woman’s  aptitude 
soon  renders  her  able  to  give  a little  help.  Anticipating 
the  doctor’s  want  of  this  or  that,  she  quietly  has  it  ready 
for  him,  and  so  by  degrees  is  intrusted  with  the  charge 
of  supporting  her  father’s  head  upon  her  arm. 

It  is  something  so  new  to  Pleasant  to  see  her  father 
an  object  of  sympathy  and  interest,  to  find  any  one 
very  willing  to  tolerate  his  society  in  this  world,  not  to 
say  pressingly  and  soothingly  entreating  him  to  belong 
to  it,  that  it  gives  her  a sensation  she  never  experienced 
before.  Some  hazy  idea  that  if  affairs  could  remain 
thus  for  a long  time  it  would  be  a respectable  change, 
floats  in  her  mind.  Also  some  vague  idea  that  the  old 
evil  is  drowned  out  of  him,  and  that  if  he  should  hap- 
pily come  back  to  resume  his  occupation  of  the  empty 
form  that  lies  upon  the  bed,  his  spirit  will  be  altered. 

In  which  state  of  mind  she  kisses  the  stony  lips,  and 
quite  believes  that  the  impassive  hand  she  chafes  will 
revive  a tender  hand,  if  it  revive  ever. 

Sweet  delusion  for  Pleasant  Riderhood.  But  they 
minister  to  him  with  such  extraordinary  interest,  their 
anxiety  is  so  keen,  their  vigilance  is  so  great,  their 
excited  joy  grows  so  intense  as  the  signs  of  life 
strengthen,  that  how  can  she  resist  it,  poor  thing!  And 


IN  MORE  ASPECTS  THAN  ONE. 


29 


now  lie  begins  to  breathe  naturally,  and  he  stirs,  and 
tne  doctor  declares  him  to  have  come  back  from  that  in- 
explicable journey  where  he  stopped  on  the  dark  road, 
and  to  be  here. 

Tom  Tootle,  who  is  nearest  to  the  doctor  when  he 
says  this,  grasps  the  doctor  fervently  by  the  hand. 
>Bob  Grlamour,  William  Williams,  and  Jonathan  of  the 
no  surname,  all  shake  hands  with  one  another  round, 
and  with  the  doctor  too.  Bob  Glamour  blows  his  nose, 
and  Jonathan  of  the  no  surname  is  moved  to  do  like- 
wise, but  lacking  a pocket  handkerchief  abandons  that 
outlet  for  his  emotion.  Pleasant  shed  tears  deserv- 
ing her  own  name,  and  her  sweet  delusion  is  at  its 
height. 

There  is-  intelligence  in  his  eyes.  He  wants  to  ask  a 
question.  He  wonders  where  he  is.  Tell  him. 

Father,  you  were  run  down  on  the  river,  and  are  at 
Miss  Abbey  Potterson’s.” 

He  stares  at  his  daughter,  stares  all  around  him, 
closes  his  eyes,  and  lies  slumbering  on  her  arm. 

The  sd  ort  lived  delusion  begins  to  fade.  The  low, 
bad,  unimpressible  face  is  coming  up  from  the  depths 
of  the  river,  or  what  other  depths,  to  the  surface  again. 
Ashe  grows  warm,  the  doctor  and  the  four  men  cool. 
As  his  lineaments  soften  with  life,  their  faces  and  their 
hearts  harden  to  him. 

^ ' He  will  do  now,”  says  the  doctor,  washing  his  hands 
and  looking  at  the  patient  with  growing  disfavour. 

'•Many  a better  man,”  moralizes  Tom  Tootle  with  a 
gloomy  shake  of  the  head,  •'  ain’t  had  his  luck.” 

"It’s to  be  hoped  he’ll  make  a better  use  of  his  life,” 
says  Bob  Glamour,  " than  I expect  he  will.” 

"Or  tha*n  he  done  afore,”  adds  William  Williams. 

" But  no,  not  he!”  says  Jonathan  of  the  no  surname, 
clinching  the  quartette. 

They  speak  in  a low  tone  because  of  his  daughter, 
but  she  sees  that  they  have  all  drawn  off,  and  that  they 
stand  in  a group  at  the  other  end  of  the  room,  shunning 
him.  It  would  be  too  much  to  suspect  them  of  being 
sorry  that  he  didn’t  die  when  he  had  done  so  much 
towards  it,  but  they  clearly  wish  that  they  had  a better 
subject  to  bestow  their  pains  on.  Intelligence  is  con- 
veyed to  Miss  Abbey  in  the  bar,  v/ho  reappears  on  the 
scene,  and  contemplates  from  a distance,  holding  whis- 


30 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


pered  discourse  with  the  doctor.  The  spark  of  life  was 
deeply  interesting  while  it  was  in  abeyance,  but  now 
that  it  has  got  established  in  Mr.  Riderhood,  there  ap- 
pears to  be  a general  desire  that  circumstances  had  ad- 
mitted of  its  being  developed  in  anybody  else,  rather 
than  that  gentleman. 

However,’’  says  Miss  Abbey,  cheering  them  up,  ''  you 
have  done  your  duty  like  good  and  true  men,  and  you 
had  better  come  down  and  take  something  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  Porters.” 

This  they  all  do,  leaving  the  daughter  watching  the 
father.  To  whom,  in  their  absence.  Bob  Gliddery  pre- 
sents himself. 

^^His  gills  looks  rum;  don’t  they?”  says  Bob,  after  in- 
specting the  patient. 

Pleasant  faintly  nods. 

His  gills  ’ll  look  rummer  when  he  wakes  ; won’t 
they?”  says  Bob. 

Pleasant  hopes  not.  Why? 

When  he  finds  himself  here,  you  know,”  Bob  ex- 
plains. ’Cause  Miss  Abbey  forbid  him  the  house  and 
ordered  him  out  of  it.  But  what  you  may  call  the  Fates 
ordered  him  into  it  again.  Which  is  rumness  ; ain’t 
it  ?” 

He  wouldn’t  have  come  here  of  his  own  accord,”  re- 
turns poor  Pleasant,  with  an  effort  at  a little  pride. 

^‘^No,”  retorts  Bob.  ''Nor  he  wouldn’t  have  been  let 
in  if  ,he  had.” 

The  short  delusion  is  quite  dispelled  now.  As  plainly 
as  she  sees  on  her  arm  the  old  father,  unimproved.  Plea- 
sant sees  that  everybody  there  will  cut  him  when  he  re- 
covers consciousness.  " I’ll  take  him  away  ever  so  soon 
as  I can,”  thinks  Pleasant  with  a sigh;  "he’s  best  at 
home.” 

Presently  they  all  return,  and  wait  for  him  to  become 
conscious  thad  they  will  all  be  glad  to  get  rid  of  him. 
Some  clothes  are  got  together  for  him  to  wear,  his  own 
being  saturated  with  water,  and  his  present  dress  being 
composed  of  blankets. 

Becoming  more  and  more  uncomfortable,  as  though 
the  prevalent  dislike  were  finding  him  out  somewhere 
in  his  sleep  and  expressing  itself  to  him,  the  patient  at 
last  opens  his  eyes  wide,  and  is  assisted  by  his  daughter 
to  sit  up  in  bed. 


IN  MORE  ASPECTS  THAN  ONE. 


31 


^'Well,  Riderhood/’  says  the  doctor,  ^'how  do  you 
feel?’’ 

He  replies  gruffly,  Nothing  to  boast  on.”  Having, 
in  fact,  returned  to  life  in  an  uncommonly  sulky  state. 

I don’t  mean  to  preach;  but  I hope,”  says  the  doctor, 
gravely  shaking  his  head,  ''that  this  escape  may  have 
a good  effect  upon  you,  Riderhood.” 

The  patient’s  discontented  growl  of  a reply  is  not  in- 
telligible ; his  daughter,  however,  could  interpret,  if  she 
would,  that  what  he  says  is,  "he  don’t  want  no  Poll- 
Parroting.”  • 

Mr.  Riderhood  next  demands  his  shirt ; and  draws  it 
on  over  his  head  (with  his  daughter’s  help)  exactly,  as 
if  he  had  just  had  a Fight. 

" Warn’t  it  a steamer  ?”  he  pauses  to  ask  her. 

"Yes,  father.” 

"I’ll  have  the  law  on  her,  bust  her  ! and  make  her 
pay  for  it.” 

He  then  buttons  his  linen  very  moodily,  twice  or 
thrice  stopping  to  examine  his  arms  and  hands,  as  if  to 
see  what  punishment  he  has  received  in  the  Fight.  He 
then  doggedly  demands  his  other  garments,  and  slowly 
gets  them  on,  with  an  appearance  of  great  malevolence 
towards  his  Ig^e  opponent  and  all  the  spectators.  He 
has  an  impression  that  his  nose  is  bleeding,  and  several 
times  draws  the  back  of  his  hand  across  it,  and  looks 
for  the  result,  in  a pugilistic  manner,  greatly  strength- 
ening that  incongruous  resemblance. 

"Where’s  my  fur  cap  ?”  he  asks  in  a surly  voice, 
when  he  had  shuffled  his  clothes  on. 

" In  the  river,”  somebody  rejoins. 

" And  weren’t  there  no  honest  man  to  pick  it  up  ? O’ 
course  there  was,  though,  and  to  cut  off'  with  it  arter- 
wards.  You  are  a rare  lot,  all  on  you  ! ” 

Thus,  Mr.  Riderhood  : taking  from  the  hands  of  his 
daughter,  with  special  ill-will,  a lent  cap,  and  grumbling 
as  he  pulls  it  down  over  his  ears.  Then,  getting  on  his 
unsteady  legs,  leaning  heavily  upon  her,  and  growling 
" Hold  still,  can’t  you  ? What  ! You  must  be  a stag- 
gering next,  must  you  ? ” he  takes  his  departure  out  of 
the  ring  in  which  he  has  had  that  little  turn-up  with 
Death. 


32 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND, 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A HAPPY  RETURN  OF  THE  DAY. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wilfer  had  seen  a full  quarter  of  a 
hundred  more  anniversaries  of  their  wedding  day 
than  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lammle  had  seen  of  theirs,  but  they 
still  celebrated  the  occasion  in  the  bosom  of  their 
family.  Not  thattthese  celebrations  ever  resulted  in 
anything  particularly  agreeable,  or  that  the  family  was 
ever  disappointed  by  that  circumstance  on  account  of 
having  looked  forward  to  the  return  of  the  auspicious 
day  with  sanguine  anticipations  of  enjoyment.  It  was 
kept  morally,  rather  as  a Fast  than  a Feast,  enabling 
Mrs.  Wilfer  to  hold  a sombre  darkling  state,  which  ex- 
hibited that  impressive  woman  in  her  choicest  colours. 

The  noble  lady’s  condition  on  these  delightful  oc- 
casions was  one  compounded  of  heroic  endurance  and 
heroic  forgiveness.  Lurid  indications  of  the  better 
marriages  she  might  have  made,  shone  athwart  the 
awful  gloom  of  her  composure,  and  fitfully  revealed 
the  cherub  as  a little  monster  unaccountably  favoured 
by  Heaven,  who  had  possessed  himself  of  a blessing 
for  which  many  of  his  superiors  had  sued  and  contended 
in  vain.  So  firmly  had  this  his  position  towards  his 
treasure  beconie  established,  that  when  the  anniver- 
sary arrived,  it  always  found  him  in  an  apologetic  state. 
It  is  not  impossible  that  his  modest  penitence  may  have 
even  gone  the  length  of  sometimes  severely  reproving 
him  for  that  he  ever  took  the  liberty  of  making  so  ex- 
alted a character  his  wife. 

As  for  the  children  of  the  union,  their  experience  of 
these  festivals  had  been  sufficiently  uncomfortable  to 
lead  them  annually  to  wish,  wheq  out  of  their  tenderest 
years,  either  that  Ma  had  married  somebody  else  in- 
stead of  much-teased  Pa,  or  that  Pa  had  married  some- 
body else  instead  of  Ma.  When  there  came  to  be  but 
two  sisters  left  at  home,  the  daring  mind  of  Bella  on 
the  next  of  these  occasions  scaled  the  height  of  won- 
dering with  droll  vexation  '‘what  on  earth  Pa  ever 
could  have  seen  in  Ma  to  induce  him  to  make  such  a 
little  fool  of  himself  as  to  ask  her  to  have  him.” 


BOGUE  RIDERHOOD’S  RECOVERY, 


A HAPPY  RETURN  OF  THE  DAY. 


33 


The  revolving  year  now  bringing  the  day  round  in  its 
orderly  sequence,  Bella  arrived  in  the  Boffin  chariot  to 
assist  at  the  celebration.  It  was  the  family  custom 
when  the  day  recurred,  to  sacrifice  a pair  of  fowls  on 
the  altar  of  Hymen  » and  Bella  had  sent  a note  before- 
hand, to  intimate  that  she  would  bring  the  votive 
offering  with  her.  So,  Bella  and  the  fowls,  by  the 
united  energies  of  two  horses,  two  men,  four  wheels, 
and  a plum-pudding  carriage  dog  with  as  uncomfortable 
a collar  on  as  if  he  had  been  George  the  Fourth,  were 
deposited  at  the  door  of  the  parental  dwelling.  They 
were  there  received  by  Mrs.  Wilfer  in  person,  whose 
dignity  on  this,  as  on  most  special  occasions,  was  height- 
ened by  a mysterious  toothache. 

‘‘I  shall  not  require  the  carrige  at  night,’’  said  Bella. 

I shall  walk  back.” 

The  male  domestic  of  Mrs.  Boffin  touched  his  hat,  and 
in  the  act  of  departure  had  an  awful  glare  bestowed 
upon  him  by  Mrs.  Wilfer,  intended  to  carry  deep  into 
his  audacious  soul  the  assurance  that,  whatever  his 
private  suspicions  might  be,  male  domestics  in  livery 
were  no  rarity  there. 

Well,  dear  Ma,”  said  Bella,  and  how  do  you  do  ?” 
am  as  well,  Bella,”  replied  Mrs.  Wilfer,  as  can 
be  expected.” 

Dear  me,  Ma,”  said  Bella  ; ^^you  talk  as  if  one  was 
just  born  ! ” 

''  That’s  exactly  what  Ma  has  been  doing,”  interposed 
Lavvy  over  the  maternal  shoulder,  ''  ever  since  we  got 
up  this  morning.  It’s  all  very  well  to  laugh,  Bella, 
but  anything  more  exasperating  it  is  impossible  to 
conceive.” 

Mrs.  Wilfer,  with  a look  too  full  of  majesty  to  be  ac- 
companied by  any  words,  attended  both  her  daughters 
to  the  kitchen,  where  the  sacrifice  was  to  be  pre- 
pared. 

‘"Mr.  Rokesmith,”  said  she,  resignedly,  ^'has  been 
so  polite  as  to  place  his  sitting-room  at  our  disposal  to 
day.  You  will,  therefore,  Bella,  be  entertained  in  the 
humble  abode  of  your  parents,  so  far  in  accordance 
with  your  present  style  of  living,  that  there  will  be  a 
drawing-room  for  your  reception  as  well  as  a dining- 
room. Your  papa  invited  Mr.  Rokesmith  to  partake 
of  our  lowly  fare.  In  excusing  himself  on  account 
yoL.  II,  3 


34  OUR  MUTUAT:  FRIEND. 

of  a particular  engagement,  he  offered  the  use  of  his 
apartment.” 

Bella  happened  to  know  that  he  had  no  engagement 
out  of  his  own  room  at  Mr.  Boffin’s,  *but  she  approved 
of  his  staying  away.  ‘‘We  should  only  have  put  one 
another  out  of  countenance,”  she  thought,  “and  we  do 
that  quite  often  enough  as  it  is.” 

Yet  she  had  sufficient  curiosity  about  his  room,  to  run 
up  to  it  with  the  least  possible  delay,  and  make  a close 
inspection  of  its  contents.  It  was  tastefully  though 
economically  furnished,  and  very  neatly  arranged. 
There  were  shelves  and  stands  of  books,  English.  French 
and  Italian  ; and  in  a portfolio  on  the  writing-table 
there  were  sheets  upon  sheets  of  memoranda  and  cal- 
culations in  figures,  evidently  referring  to  the  Boffin 
property.  On  that  table  also,  carefully  backed  with 
canvas,  varnished,  mounted,  and  rolled  like  a map, 
was  the  placard  descriptive  of  the  murdered  man  who 
had  come  from  afar  to  be  her  husband.  She  shrank  from 
this  ghostly  surprise,  and  felt  quite  frightened  as  she 
rolled  and  tied  it  up  again.  Peeping  about  here  and 
there,  she  came  upon  a print,  a graceful  head  of  a pretty 
woman,  elegantly  framed,  hanging  in  the  corner  by  the 
easy  chair.  “Oh,  indeed,  sir!”  said  Bella,  after  stop- 
ping to  ruminate  before  it,  “ Oh,  indeed,  sir  I I fancy 
I can  guess  whom  you  think  that's  like.  But  I’ll  tell 
you  what  it’s  much  more  like — your  impudence!”  Hav- 
ing said  which  she  decamped : not  solely  because  she 
was  offended,  but  because  there  was  nothing  else  to 
look  at. 

“Now,  Ma,”  said  Bella,  reappearing  in  the  kitchen 
with  some  remains  of  a blush,  “you  and  Lavvy  think 
magnificent  me  fit  for  nothing,  but  I intend  to  prove 
the  contrary.  I mean  to  be  Cook  to-day.” 

“Hold!”  rejoined  her  majestic  mother.  “I  cannot 
permit  it.  Cook  in  that  dress!  ” 

“As  for  my  dress,  Ma,”  returned  Bella,  merrily  search- 
ing in  a presser-drawer,  “I  mean  to  apron  it  and  towel 
it  all  over  the  front;  and  as  to  permission,  I mean  to  do 
without.” 

‘‘You  cook?”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer  “You,  who  never 
cooked  when  you  were  at  home?  ” 

“Yes,  Ma,”  returned  Bella;  “that  is  precisely  the 
date  of  the  case,” 


A HAPPY  RETURN  OF  THE  DAY. 


35 


She  girded  herself  with  a white  apron,  and  busily 
with  knots  and  pins  contrived  a bib  to  it,  coming  close 
and  tight  under  her  chin,  as  if  it  had  caught  her  round 
the  neck  to  kiss  her.  Over  this  bib  her  dimples  looked 
delightful,  and  under  it  her  pretty  figure  not  less  so. 

Now,  Ma,”  said  Bella,  pushing  back  her  hair  from  her 
temples  with  both  hands,  '' whaPs  first?’’ 

''  First,”  returned  Mrs.  Wilfer  solemnly,  if  you  persist 
in  what  I cannot  but  regard  as  conduct  utterly  incom- 
patible with  the  equipage  in  which  you  arrived ” 

( ''  Which  I do,  Ma.” ) 

First,  then,  you  put  the  fowls  down  to  the  fire.” 

To — be — sure!”  cried  Bella;  '^and  flour  them,  and 
twirl  them  round,  and  there  they  go!”  sending  them 
spinning  at  a great  rate.  ^'What’s  next,  Ma?” 

Next,”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer  with  a wave  of  her  gloves, 
expressive  of  abdication  under  protest  from  the  culinary 
throne,  I would  recommend  examination  of  the  bacon 
in  the  saucepan  on  the  fir^,  and  also  of  the  potatoes  by 
the  application  of  a fork.  Preparation  of  the  greens 
will  further  become  necessary  if  you  persist  in  this  un- 
seemly demeanour.” 

As  of  course  I do,  ma.” 

Persisting,  Bella  gave  her  attention  to  one  thing  and 
forgot  the  other,  and  gave  her  attention  to  the  other 
and  forgot  the  third,  and  remembering  the  third  was 
distracted  by  the  fourth,  and  made  amends  whenever 
she  went  wrong  by  giving  the  unfortunate  fowls  an 
extra  spin,  which  made  their  chance  of  ever  getting 
cooked  exceedingly  doubtful.  But  it  was  pleasant 
cookery  too.  Meantime,  Miss  Lavinia,  oscillating  be- 
tween the  kitchen  and  the  opposite  room,  prepared  the 
dining-table  in  the  latter  chamber.  This  office  she 
(always  doing  her  household  spiriting  with  unwilling- 
ness) performed  in  a startling  series  of  whisks  and 
bumps;  laying  the  tablecloth  as  if  she  were  raising  the 
wind,  putting  down  the  glasses  and  salt-cellars  as  if  she 
were  knocking  at  the  door,  and  clashing  the  knives  and 
forks  in  a skirmishing  manner  suggestive  of  hand-to- 
hand  conflict. 

Lpok  at  Ma,”  whispered  Lavinia  to  Bella  when  this 
was  done,  and  they  stood  over  the  roasting  fowls.  If 
one  was  the  most  dutiful  child  in  existence  (of  course 
on  the  whole  one  hopes  one  is),  isn’t  she  enough  to  make 


36 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


one  want  to  poke  her  with  something  wooden,  sitting 
there  bolt  upright  in  a corner?’’ 

'^Only  suppose,”  returned  Bella,  ‘‘^that  poor  Pa  was 
to  sit  bolt  upright  in  another  corner.” 

My  dear,  he  couldn’t  do  it,”  said  Lavvy,^^  Pa  would 
loll  directly.  But  indeed  I do  not  believe  there  ever 
was  any  human  creature  who  could  keep  so  bolt  upright 
as  Ma,  or  put  such  an  amount  of  aggravation  into  one 
back!  What’s  the  matter,  Ma?  Ain’t  you  well,  Ma?” 

Doubtless  I am  very  well,”  returned  Mrs.  Wilfer, 
turning  her  eyes  upon  her  youngest  born,  with  scornful 
fortitude.  What  should  be  the  matter  with  me?  ” 

You  don’t  seem  very  brisk,  Ma,”  retorted  Lavvy  the 
bold. 

Brisk?”  repeated  her  parent,  Brisk?  Whence  the 
low  expression,  Lavinia?  If  I am  uncomplaining,  if  I 
am  silently  contented  with  my  lot,  let  that  suffice  for 
my  family.” 

Well,  Ma,”  returned  Lavvy,  since  you  will  force  it 
out  of  me,  I must  respectfully  take  leave  to  say  that 
your  family  are  no  doubt  under  the  greatest  obligations 
to  you  for  having  an  annual  toothache  on  your  wedding 
day,  and  that  it’s  very  disinterested  in  you,  and  an  im- 
mense blessing  to  them.  Still,  on  the  whole,  it  is  pos- 
sible to  be  too  boastful  even  of  that  boon.” 

^^You  incarnation  of  sauciness,”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer, 
do  you  speak  like  that  to  me?  Oh  this  day  of  all  days 
in  the  year?  Pray  do  you  know  what  would  have  be- 
come of  you,  if  I had  not  bestowed  my  hand  upon  R.  W., 
your  father,  on  this  day?” 

No,  Ma,”  replied  Lavvy,  really  do  not;  and,  with 
the  greatest  respect  for  your  abilities  and  information,  I 
very  much  doubt  if  you  do  either.” 

Whether  or  no  the  sharp  vigour  of  this  sally  on  a 
weak  point  of  Mrs.  Wilfer’s  entrenchments  might  have 
routed  that  heroine  for  the  time,  is  rendered  uncertain 
by  the  arrival  of  a flag  of  truce  in  the  person  of  Mr. 
George  Sampson:  bidden  to  the  feast  as  a friend  of  the 
family,  whose  affections  were  now  understood  to  be  in 
course  of  transference  from  Bella  to  Lavinia,  and  whom 
Lavinia  kept — possibly  in  remembrance  of  his  bad  taste 
in  having  overlooked  her  in  the  first  instance — under  a 
course  of  stinging  discipline. 

I congratulate  you,  Mi*s.  Wilfer,”  said  Mr.  George 


A HAPPY  RETURN  OP  THE  DAY.  3^' 

Sampson,  who  had  meditated  this  neat  address  while 
coming  along,  “on  the  day.”  Mrs.  Wilfer  thanked  him 
with  a magnanimous  sigh,  and  again  became  an  unre- 
sisting prey  to  that  inscrutable  toothache. 

“I  am  surprised,”  said  Mr.  Sampson  feebly,  “that 
Miss  Bella  condescends  to  cook.” 

Here  Miss  Lavinia  descended  on  the  ill-starred  youno- 
gentleman  with  a crushing  supposition  that  at  all  events 
it  was  no  business  of  his.  This  disposed  of  Mr.  Sampson 
m a melancholy  retirement  of  spirit  until  the  cherub 
arrived,  whose  amazement  at  the  lovely  woman’s  occu- 
pation was  great. 

However,  she  persisted  in  dishing  the  dinner  as  well 
as  cooking  it,  and  then  sat  down,  bibless  and  apronless, 
to  partake  of  it  as  an  illustrious  guest:  Mrs.  Y^ilfer  first 
responding  to  her  husband’s  cheerful  “ For  what  we  are 
about  to  receive — ” with  a sepulchral  Amen,  calculated 
to  cast  a damp  upon  the  stoutest  appetite. 

“But  what,”  said  Bella,  as  she  watched  the  carvino- 
of  the  fowls,  “ makes  them  pink  inside,  I wonder.  Pa'’ 
Is  it  the  breed  ? ” 

No,  I don  t think  it’s  the  breed,  mv  dear,”  returned 
Pa.  “ I rather  think  it  is  because  they  are  not  done  ” 

“ They  ought  to  be,”  said  Bella. 

“ Yes,  I am  aware  they  ought  to  be,  my  dear,  reioined 
her  father,  “ but  they — ain’t.” 

So,  the  gridiron  was  put  in  requisition,  and  the  good- 
tempered  cherub,  who  was  often  as  un-cherubically 
employed  in  his  own  family,  as  if  he  had  been  in  the 
employment  of  some  of  the  Old  Masters,  undertook  to 
grill  the  fowls.  Indeed,  except  in  respect  of  staring 
about  him  (a  branch  of  the  public  service  to  which  the 
pictorial  cherub  is  much  addicted),  this  domestic  cherub 
discharged  as  many  odd  functions  as  his  prototype  • 
With  the  •difference,  say,  that  he  performed  with  a 
b lading  brush  on  the  family’s  boots,  instead  of  per- 
forming on  enormous  wind  instruments  and  double- 
basses,  and  that  he  conducted  himself  with  cheerful 
alacrity  to  niuch  useful  purpose,  instead  of  foreshorten- 
ing himself  in  the  air  with  the  vaguest  intentions. 

Bella  helped  him  with  his  supplementary  cookery  and 
made  him  very  happy,  but  put  him  in  mortal  terror,  too, 
by  asking  him  when  they  sat  down  at  table  again,  how 
he  supposed  they  cooked  fowls  at  the  Greenwich  din- 


38 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


ners,  and  whether  he  believed  they  really  were  such 
pleasant  dinners  as  people  said.  His  secret  winks  and 
nods  of  remonstrance,  in  reply,  made  the  mischievous 
Bella  laugh  until  she  choked,  and  then  Lavinia  was 
obliged  to  slap  her  on  the  back,  and  then  she  laughed 
the  more. 

But  her  mother  was  a fine  corrective  at  the  other  end 
of  the  table  ; to  whom  her  father,  in  the  innocence  of 
good-fellowship,  at  intervals,  appealed  with:  My  dear, 
I am  afraid  you  are  not  enjoying  yourself.’’ 

Why  so,  R.  W.  ? ” she  would  sonorously  reply. 

Because,  my  dear,  you  seem  a little  out  of  sorts.” 

^^Not  at  all,”  would  be  the  rejoinder,  in  exactly  the 
same  tone. 

Would  you  take  a merry-thought,  my  dear  ?” 

Thank  you.  I will  take  whatever  you  please, 
R.  W.” 

Well,  but  my  dear,  do  you  like  it  ?” 

I like  it  as  well  as  I like  anything,  R.  W.”  The  stately 
woman  would  then,  with  a meritorious  appearance  of 
devoting  herself  to  the  general  good,  pursue  her  dinner 
as  if  she  were  feeding  somebody  else  on  high  public 
grounds. 

Bella  had  brought  dessert  and  two  bottles  of  wine, 
thus  shedding  unprecedented  splendour  on  the  occasion. 
Mrs.  Wilfer  did  the  honours  of  the  first  glass  by  pro- 
claiming : ''  R.  AV.,  I drink  to  you.” 

Thank  you,  my  dear.  And  I to  you.” 

Pa  and  Ma  ! ” said  Bella. 

‘^Permit  me,”  Mrs.  AVilfer  interposed,  with  out- 
stretched glove.  ^^No.  I think  not.  I drank  to  your 
papa.  If,  however,  you  insist  on  including  me,  I can 
in  gratitude  offer  no  objection.” 

''  AVhy,  Lor,  Ma,”  interposed  Lavvy  the  bold,  isn’t  it 
the  day  that  made  you  and  Pa  one  and  the  same  ? I 
have  no  patience  ! ” 

''By  whatever  other  circumstances  the  day  may  be 
marked,  it  is  not  the  day,  Lavinia,  on  which  I will 
allow  a child  of  mine  to  pounce  upon  me.  I beg — 
nay,  command  ! — that  you  will  not  pounce.  R.  W.,  it 
is  appropriate  to  recall  that  it  is  for  you  to  command 
and  for  me  to  obey.  It  is  your  house,  and  you  are 
master  at  your  own  table.  Both  our  healths  ! ’’  Drink- 
ing the  toast  with  tremendous  stiffness. 


A HAPPY  RETURN  OF  THE  DAY. 


39 


“1  really  am  a little  afraid,  my  dear,”  hinted  the 
cherub  meekly,  “ that  you  are  not  enjoying  yourself  ?” 

“On  the  contrary,”  returned  Mrs.  Wilfer,  “quite  so. 
Why  should  1 not  ? ” 

“ I thought,  my  dear,  that  perhaps  your  face 
might ” 

“ My  face  might  be  a martyrdom,  but  what  would 
that  import,  or  who  should  know  it,  if  I smiled  ? ” 

And  she  did  smile  ; manifestly  freezing  the  blood  of 
Mr.  George  Sampson  by  so  doing.  For  that  young 
gentleman,  catching  her  smiling  eye,  was  so  very  much 
appalled  by  its  expression  as  to  cast  about  in  his 
thoughts  concerning  what  he  had  done  to  bring  it  down 
upon  himself. 

“ The  mind  naturally  falls,”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer,  “ shall 
I say  into  a reverie,  or  shall  I say  into  a retrospect  ? on 
a day  like  this.” 

Lavvy,  sitting  with  defiantly  folded  arms,  replied 
(but  not  audibly),  “For  goodness’ sake  say  whichever 
of  the  two  you  like  best,  Ma,  and  get  it  over.” 

“ The  mind,”  pursued  Mrs.  Wilfer  in  an  oratorical 
manner,  “naturally  reverts  to  Papa  and  Mamma— 1 
here  allude  to  my  parents — at  a period  before  the  earli- 
est dawn  of  this  day.  I was  considered  tall ; perhaps  I 
was.  Papa  and  Mamma  were  unquestionably  tall.  I 
have  rarely  seen  a finer  woman  than  my  mother  ; never 
than  iny  father.” 

The  irrepressible  Lavvy  remarked  aloud,  “ Whatever 
grandpapa  was,  he  wasn’t  a female.” 

“Your  grandpapa,”  retorted  Mrs.  Wilfer,  with  an 
awful  look,  and  in  an  awful  tone,  “was  what  I describe 
him  to  have  been,  and  would  have  struck  any  of  his 
grandchildren  to  the  earth  who  presumed  to  question 
it.  It  was  one  of  mamma’s  cherished  hopes  that  I should 
become  united  to  a tall  member  of  society.  It  may  have 
been  a weakness,  but  if  so,  it  was  equally  the  weakness, 

I believe,  of  King  Frederick  of  Prussia.”  These  re- 
marks being  offered  to  Mr.  George  Sampson,  who  had 
not  the  courage  to  come  out  for  single  combat,  but 
lurked  with  his  chest  under  the  table  and  his  eyes  cast 
down,  Mrs.  Wilfer  proceeded,  in  a voice  of  increasing 
sternness  and  impressiveness,  until  she  should  force  that 
skulker  to  give  himself  up.  “ Mamma  would  appear  to 
liave  had  an  indefinable  foreboding  of  what  afterwards 


49 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


happened,  for  she  would  frequently  urge  upon  me,  ^ Not 
a little  man.  Promise  me,  my  child,  not  a little  man. 
Never,  never,  never,  marry  a little  man!’  Papa  also 
would  remark  to  me  (he  possessed  extraordinary 
humour)  ^ that  a family  of  whales  must  not  ally  them- 
selves with  sprats.’  His  company  was  eagerly  sought, 
as  may  be  supposed,  by  the  wits  of  the  day,  and  our 
house  was  their  continual  resort.  I have  known  as 
many  as  three  copper-plate  engravers  exchanging  the 
most  exquisite  sallies  and  retorts  there  at  one  time.” 
(Here  Mr.  Sampson  delivered  himself  captive,  and  said, 
with  an  uneasy  movement  on  his  chair,  that  three  was 
a large  number,  and  it  must  have  been  highly  enter- 
taining.) Among  the  most  prominent  members  of 
that  distinguished  circle,  was  a gentleman  measuring 
six  feet  four  in  height.  He  was  not  an  engraver.” 
(Here  Mr.  Sampson  said,  with  no  reason  whatever.  Of 
course  not.)  This  gentleman  was  so  obliging  as  to 
honour  me  with  attentions  which  I could  not  fail  to  un- 
derstand.” (Here  Mr.  Sampson  murmured  that,  when  it 
came  to  that,  you  could  always  tell.)  I immediately 
announced  to  both  my  parents  that  those  attentions 
were  misplaced,  and  that  I could  not  favour  his  suit. 
They  inquired.  Was  he  too  tall  ? I replied  it  was  not  the 
stature,  but  the  intellect  was  too  lofty.  At  our  house, 
I said,  the  tone  was  too  brilliant,  the  pressure  was  too 
high,  to  be  maintained  by  me,  a mere  woman,  in  every- 
day domestic  life.  I well  remember  mamma’s  clasping 
her  hands,  and  exclaiming,  This  will  end  in  a little 
man  ! ’ ” (Here  Mr.  Sampson  glanced  at  his  host  and 
shook  his  head  with  despondency.)  She  afterwards 
went  so  far  as  to  predict  that  it  would  end  in  a little 
man  whose  mind  would  be  below  the  average,  but  that 
was  in  what  I may  denominate  a paroxysm  of  maternal 
disappointment.  Within  a month,”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer, 
deepening  her  voice  as  if  she  were  relating  a terrible 
ghost  story,  within  a month,  I first  saw  R.  W.,  my 
husband.  Within  a year  I married  him.  It  is  natural 
for  the  mind  to  recall  these  dark  coincidences  on  the 
present  day.” 

Mr.  Sampson,  at  length  released  from  the  custody  of 
Mrs.  Wilfer’s  eye,  now  drew  a long  breath,  and  made 
the  original  and  striking  remark  that  there  was  no 
aocounting  for  these  sort  of  presentiments.  R,  W, 


41 


A Happy  return  of  the  day. 

scratched.his  head  and  looked  apologetically  all  round 
the  table  until  he  came  to  his  wife,  when  observing  her 
as  it  were  shrouded  in  a more  sombre  veil  than  before, 
he  once  more  hinted,  “ My  dear,  I am  really  afraid  you 
are  not  altogether  enjoying  yourself  ? ” To  which  she 
once  more  replied,  “On  the  contrary,  R.  W.  Quite 
so.” 

The  wretched  Mr.  Sampson’s  position  at  this  agreeable 
entertainment  was  truly  pitiable.  For,  not  only  was  he 
exposed  defenceless  to  the  harangues  of  Mrs.  Wilfer, 
but  he  received  the  utmost  contumely  at  the  hands  of 
Lavinia;  who,  partly  to  show  Bella  that  she  (Lavinia) 
could  do  what  she  liked  with  him,  and  partly  to  pay 
him  olf  for  still  obviously  admiring  Bella’s  beauty,  led 
him  the  life  of  a dog.  Illuminated  on  the  one  hand  by 
the  stately  graces  of  Mrs.  Wilfer’s  oratory,  and  shadow- 
ed  on  the  other  by  the  checks  and  frowns  of  the  young* 
lady  to  whom  he  had  devoted  himself  in  his  destitution, 
the  sufferings  of  this  young  gentleman  were  distressing 
to  witness.  If  his  mind  for  the  moment  reeled  under 
them,  it  may  be  urged,  in  extenuation  of  its  weakness, 
that  it  was  constitutionally  a knock-kneed  mind,  and 
never  very  strong  upon  its  legs. 

The  rosy  hours  were  thus  beguiled  until  it  was  time 
tor  Bella  to  have  Pa’s  escort  back.  The  dimples  duly 
tied  up  in  the  bonnet-strings  and  the  leave-taking  done, 
they  got  out  into  the  air,  and  the  cherub  drew  a long 
breath  as  if  he  found  it  refreshing. 

Well,  dear  Pa,”  said  Bella,  the  anniversary  may 
be  considered  over.” 

‘'Yes,  my  dear,”  returned  the  cherub,  ''there’s  another 
ot  em  gone.” 

Bella  drew  his  arm  closer  through  hers  as  they  walked 
gave  it  a number  of  consolatory  pats. 

ihank  you,  my  dear,”  he  said,  as  if  she  had  spoken; 

1 am  all  right,  my  dear.  Well,  and  how  do  you  get 
on,  Bella?”  ^ 

“I  am  not  at  all  improved.  Pa.’' 

‘‘Ain’t  you  really,  though?” 

Yo,  Pa.  On  the  contrary,  I am  worse.” 

‘‘Lor!”  said  the  cherub. 

‘ I am  worse.  Pa.  I make  so  many  calculations,  how 
inuch  a year  I must  have  when  I marry,  and  what  is 
the  least  I can  manage  to  do  with,  that  1 am  beginning 


42 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


to  get  wrinkles  over  my  nose.  Did  you  notice  any 
wrinkles  over  my  nose  this  evening,  Pa  ? ’’ 

Pa  laughing  at  this,  Bella  give  him  two  or  three 
shakes. 

^^You  won’t  laugh,  sir,  when  you  see  your  lovely 
woman  turning  haggard.  You  had  better  he  prepared 
in  time,  I can  tell  you.  I shall  not  be  able  to  keep  my 
greediness  for  money  out  of  my  eyes  long,  and  when  you 
see  it  there  you’ll  be  sorry,  and  serve  you  right  for  not 
being  warned  in  time.  Now,  sir,  we  entered  into  a bond 
of  confidence.  Have  you  anything  to  impart.” 

‘“I  thought  it  was  you  who  was  to  impart,  my 
love.” 

Oh  ! did  you  indeed,  sir  ? Then  why  didn’t  you  ask 
me  the  moment  we  came  out  ? The  confidences  of 
lovely  women  are  not  to  be  slighted.  However,  I for- 
give you  this  once,  and  look  here.  Pa;  that’s  ” — Bella 
laid  the  little  forefinger  of  her  right  glove  on  her  lip,  and 
then  laid  it  on  her  father’s  lip — ‘^that’s  a kiss  for  you. 
And  now  I am  ’going  seriously  to  tell  you — let  me  see 
how  many — four  secrets.  Mind!  Serious,  grave,  weighty 
secrets.  Strictly  between  ourselves.” 

'‘Number  one,  my  dear?”  said  her  father,  settling 
her  arm  comfortably  and  confidentially. 

" Number  one,”  said  Bella,  "will  electrify  you.  Pa. 
Who  do  you  think  has  ” — she  was  confused  here  in  spite 
of  her  merry  way  of  beginning — "has  made  an  offer 
to  me  ? ” 

Pa  looked  in  her  face,  and  looked  at  the  ground,  and 
looked  in  her  face  again,  and  declared  he  could  never 
guess. 

"Mr.  Rokesmith.” 

"You  don’t  tell  me  so,  my  dear  !” 

"Mis — ter  Roke — smith.  Pa,”  said  Bella,  separating 
the  syllables  for  emphasis.  " What  do  you  say  to 
that  F ” . 

Pa  answered  quietly  with  the  counter-question, 
" What  did  you  say  to  that,  my  love  ?” 

" I said  No,”  returned  Bella  sharply.  "Of  course.” 

?0S.  Of  course,”  said  her  father,  meditating. 

‘ • And  I told  him  why  I thought  it  a betrayal  of  trust 
on  his  part,  and  an  affront  to  me,”  said  Bella. 

"Yes.  To  be  sure.  I am  astonished  indeed.  I won- 
der he  comm-itted  himself  without  seeing  more  of  his 


A HAPPY  RETURN  OF  THE  DAY. 


43 


way  first.  Now  I think  of  it,  I suspect  he  always  has 
admired  you,  though,  my  dear.’’ 

A hackney  coachman  may  admire  me,”  remarked 
Bella,  with  a touch  of  her  mother’s  loftiness. 

''  It’s  highly  probable,  my  love.  Number  two,  my 
dear  ? ” 

'"Number  two.  Pa,  is  much  to  the  same  purpose, 
though  not  so  preposterous.  Mr.  Lightwood  would  pro- 
pose to  me  if  I would  let  him.” 

> "Then  I understand,  my  dear,  that  you  don’t  intend 
to  let  him?” 

Bella  again  saying,  with  her  former  emphasis,  " Why, 
of  course  not  ! ” her  father  felt  himself  bound  to  echo, 

" Of  course  not.” 

" I don’t  care  for  him,”  said  Bella. 

"That’s  enough,”  her  father  interposed. 

"No,  Pa,  it’s  not  enough,”  rejoined  Bella,  giving  him 
another  shake  or  two.  " Haven’t  I told  you  what  a 
mercenary  little  wretch  I am  ? It  only  becomes  enough 
when  he  has  no  money,  and  no  clients,  and  no  expecta- 
tions, and  no  anything  but  debts.” 

" Hah  ! ” said  the  cherub,  a little  depressed.  " Num- 
ber three,  my  dear  ? ” 

"Number  three.  Pa,  is  a better  thing.  A generous 
thing,  a noble  thing,  a delightful  thing.  Mrs.  Boffin 
has  herself  told  me,  as  a secret,  with  her  own  kind  lips 
— and  truer  lips  never  opened  or  closed  in  this  life,  I 
am  sure — that  they  wish  to  see  me  well  married  ; and 
that  when  I marry  with  their  consent  they  will  portion 
me  most  handsomely.”  Here  the  grateful  girl  burst 
out  crying  very  heartily. 

"Don’t  cry,  my  darling,”  said  her  father,  with  his 
hand  to  his  eyes;  " it’s  excusable  in  me  to  be  a little 
overcome  when  I find  that  my  dear  favourite  child  is, 
after  all  disappointments,  to  be  so  provided  for  and  so 
^’aised  in  the  world;  but  don’t  you  cry,  don’t  you  cry.  I 
am  very  thankful.  I congratulate  you  with  all  my 
heart,  my  dear.”  The  good  soft  little  fellow  drying 
his  eyes  here,  Bella  put  her  arms  round  his  neck  and 
tenderly  kissed  him  on  the  high  road,  passionately 
telling  him  he  was  the  best  of  fathers  and  the  best  of 
friends,  and  that  on  her  wedding  morning  she  would  go . 
down  on  her  knees  to  him,  and  beg  his  pardon  for  having 
ever  teased  him,  or  seemed  insensible  to  the  worth  of 


44 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


such  a patient,  sympathetic,  genial,  fresh  young  heart. 
At  every  one  of  her  adjectives  she  redoubled  her  kisses, 
and  finally  kissed  his  hat  off,  and  then  laughed  im- 
moderately when  the  wind  took  it,  and  he  ran  after  it. 

When  he  had  recovered  his  hat  and  his  breath,  and 
they  were  going  on  again  once  more,  said  her  father 
then:  '^Number  four,  my  dear?” 

Bella’s  countenance  fell  in  the  midst  of  her  mirth. 

After  all,  perhaps,  I had  better  put  off  number  four. 
Pa.  Let  me  try  once  more,  if  for  never  so  short  a time, 
to  hope  that  it  may  not  really  be  so.” 

The  change  in  her  strengthened  the  cherub’s  interest 
in  number  four,  and  he  said  quietly  : '^May  not  be  so, 
my  dear?  May  not  be  how,  my  dear?” 

Bella  looked  at  him  pensively,  and  shook  her  head. 

And  yet  I know  right  well  it  is  so.  Pa.  I know  it 
only  too  well.” 

My  love,”  returned  the  father,  you  make  me  quite 
uncomfortable.  Have  you  said  No  to  anybody  else,  my 
dear?” 

^^No,  Pa.” 

''  Yes  to  anybody?”  he  suggested,  lifting  up  his  eye- 
brows. 

^^No,  Pa.” 

''Is  there  anybody  else  who  would  take  his  chance 
between  Yes  and  No,  if  you  would  let  him,  my  dear?” 

"Not  that  I know  of.  Pa.” 

"There  can’t  be  somebody  who  won’t  take  his  chance 
when  you  want  him  to?”  said  the  cherub,  as  a last  re- 
source. 

"Why,  of  course  not.  Pa,”  said  Bella,  giving  him 
another  shake  or  two. 

"No,  of  course  not,”  he  assented.  "Bella,  my  dear, 
I am  afraid  I must  either  have  no  sleep  to-night,  or  I 
must  press  for  number  four.” 

" Oh,  Pa,  there  is  no  good  in  number  four  ! I am  so 
sorry  for  it,  I am  so  unwilling  to  believe  it,  I have  tried 
so  earnestly  not  to  see  it,  that  it  is  very  hard  to  tell, 
even  to  you.  But  Mr.  Boffin  is  being  spoilt  by  prosperity, 
and  is  changing  every  day.” 

" My  dear  Bella,  I hope  and  trust  not.” 

"I  have  hoped  and  trusted  not  too.  Pa;  but  everyday 
he  changes  for  the  worse,  and  for  the  worse.  Not  to 
me — he  is  always  mucli  the  same  to  me — but  to  otliers 


A HAPPY  RETURN  OF  THE  DAY. 


45 


about  him.  Before  my  eyes  he  grows  suspicious,  capri- 
cious, hard,  tyrannical,  unjust.  If  ever  a good  man  were 
ruined  by  good  fortune,  it  is  my  benefactor.  And  yet. 
Pa,  think  how  terrible  the  fascination  of  money  is  ! I 
see  this,  and  hate  this,  and  dread  this,  and  don’t  know 
but  that  money  might  make  a much  worse  change  in 
me.  And  yet  I have  money  always  in  my  thoughts  and 
my  desires  ; and  the  whole  life  I place  before  myself 
is  money,  money,  money,  and  what  money  can  make 
of  life  ! ” 


CHAPTER  V. 


THE  GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  FALLS  INTO  BAD  COMPANY. 

ERE  Bella  Wilfer’s  bright  and  ready  little  wits  at 


vv  fault,  or  was  the  Golden  Dustman  passing  through 
the  furnace  of  proof  and  coming  out  dross  ? Ill  news 
travels  fast.  We  shall  know  full  soon. 

On  that  very  night  of  her  return  from  the  Happy 
Return,  something  chanced  which  Bella  closely  followed 
with  her  eyes  and  ears.  There  was  an  apartment  at 
the  side  of  the  Boffin  mansion,  known  as  Mr.  Boffin’s 
room.  Far  less  grand  than  the  rest  of  the  house,  it  was 
far  more  comfortable,  being  pervaded  by  a certain  air 
of  homely  snugness,  which  upholstering  despotism  had 
banished  to  that  spot  when  it  inexorably  set  its  face 
against  Mr.  BoflBn’s  appeals  for  mercy  in  behalf  of  any 
other  chamber.  Thus,  although  a room  of  modest  situa- 
tion— for  its  windows  gave  on  Silas  Wegg’s  old  corner 
— and  of  no  pretensions  to  velvet,  satin,  or  gilding,  it 
had  got  itself  established  in  a domestic  position  an- 
alogous to  that  of  an  easy  dressing-gown  or  pair  of  slip- 
pers ; and,  whenever  the  family  wanted  to  enjoy  a 
particularly  pleasant  fireside  evening,  they  enjoyed  it, 
as  an  institution  that  must  be,  in  Mr.  Boffin’s  room. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin  were  reported  sitting  in  this 
room  when  Bella  got  back.  Entering  it,  she  found  the 
Secretary  there  too;  in  official  attendance  it  would  ap- 

Eear,  for  he  was  standing  with  some  papers  in  his  hand 
y a table  with  shaded  candles  on  it,  at  which  Mr. 
Boffin  was  seated,  thrown  back  in  his  easy  chair. 


46 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


‘^You  are  bnsy,  sir/’  said  Bella,  hesitating  at  the 
door. 

Not  at  all,  my  dear,  not  at  all.  You’re  one  of  our- 
selves. We  never  make  company  of  you.  Come  in, 
come  in.  Here’s  the  old  lady  in  her  usual  place.” 

Mrs.  Boffin  adding  her  nod  and  smile  of  welcome  to 
Mr.  Boffin’s  words,  Bella,  took  her  book  to  a chair  in  the 
fireside  corner  by  Mrs.  Boffin’s  work-table.  Mr.  Boffin’s 
station  was  on  the  opposite  side. 

“^'Now,  Rokesmith,”  said  the  Golden  Dustman,  so 
sharply  rapping  the  table  to  bespeak  his  attention  as 
Bella  turned  the  leaves  of  her  book,  that  she  started ; 

where  were  we  ?” 

^Wou  were  saying,  sir,”  returned  the  Secretary,  with 
an  air  of  some  reluctance  and  a glance  towards  those 
others,  who  were  present,  that  you  considered  the 
time  had  come  for  fixing  my  salary.” 

Don’t  be  above  calling  it  wages,  man,”  said  Mr. 
Boffin,  testily.  ^'What  the  deuce!  I never  t ilked  of 
my  salary  when  I was  in  service.” 

My  wages,”  said  the  Secretary,  correcting  himself. 

Rokesmith,  you  are  not  proud,  I hope  ?”  observed 
Mr.  Boffin,  eyeing  him  askance. 

I hope  not,  sir.” 

^"Because  I never  was,  when  I was  poor,”  said  Mr. 
Boffin.  '^Poverty  and  pride  don’t  go  at  all  well  to- 
gether. Mind  that.  How  can  they  go  well  together  ? 
Why  it  stands  to  reason.  A man,  being  poor,  has 
nothing  to  be  proud  of.  It’s  nonsense.” 

With  a slight  inclination  of  his  head,  and  a look  of 
some  surprise,  the  Secretary  seemed  to  assent  by  form- 
ing the  syllables  of  the  word  nonsense”  on  his  lips. 

Now,  concerning  these  same  wages,”  said  Mr.  Boffin. 

Sit  down.” 

The  Secretary  sat  down. 

Why  didn’t  you  sit  down  before?”  asked  Mr.  Boffin, 
distrustfully.  ‘‘1  hope  that  wasn’t  pride?  But  about 
these  wages.  Now,  I’ve  gone  into  the  matter,  and  I 
say  two  hundred  a year.  What  do  you  think  of  it? 
Do  you  think  it’s  enough?” 

Thank  you.  It  is  a fair  proposal.” 
don’t  say,  you  know,”  Mr.  Boffin  stipulated,  ^^but 
what  it  maybe  more  than  enough.  And  I’ll  tell  you. 
vhy.,  Rokesmith.  A man  of  property,  like  me,  is  bound 


IN  BAD  COMPANY. 


47 


to  consider  the  market  price.  At  first  I didn’t  enter 
into  that  as  much  as  I might  have  done;  but  IVe  got 
acquainted  with  other  men  of  property  since,  and  IVe 
got  acquainted  with  the  duties  of  property.  I mustn’t 
go  putting  the  market  price  up,  because  money  may 
happen  not  to  be  an  object  with  me.  A sheep  is  worth 
so  much  in  the  market,  and  I ought  to  give  it,  and  no 
more.  A secretary  is  worth  so  much  in  the  market, 
and  I ought  to  give  it,  and  no  more.  However,  I don’t 
mind  stretching  a point  with  you.” 

^^Mr.  Boffin,  you  are  very  good,”  replied  the  Secre- 
tary, with  an  effort.  • 

^^Then  we  put  the  figure,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  ‘^at  two 
hundred  a year.  Then  the  figure’s  disposed  of.  Now, 
there  must  be  no  misunderstanding  regarding  what  I 
buy  for  two  hundred  a year.  If  I pay  for  a sheep,  I 
buy  it  out  and  out.  Similarly,  if  I paid  for  a secretary, 
I buy  Min  out  and  out.’ 

In  other  words,  you  purchase  my  whole  time?” 

Certainly  I do.  Look  here,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  it 
ain’t  that  I want  to  occupy  your  whole  time;  you  can 
take  up  a book  for  a minute  or  two  when  you’ve  noth- 
ing better  to  do,  though  I think  you’ll  a’most  always 
find  something  useful  to  do.  But  I want  to  keep  you 
in  attendance.  It’s  convenient  to  have  you  at  all  times 
ready  on  the  premises.  Therefore,  betwixt  your  break- 
fast and  your  supper — on  the  premises  I expect  to  find 
you.” 

The  Secretary  bowed. 

^Hn  bygone  days,  when  I was  in  service  myself,”  said 
Mr.  Boffin,  I couldn’t  go  cutting  about  at  my  will  and 
pleasure,  and  you  won’t  expect  to  go  cutting  about  at 
your  will  and  pleasure.  You’ve  rather  got  into  a habit 
of  that  lately:  but  perhaps  it  was  for  want  of  a right 
specification  betwixt  us.  Now,  let  there  be  a right 
specification  betwixt  us,  and  let  it  be  this.  If  you  want 
leave,  ask  for  it.” 

Again  the  Secretary  bowed.  His  manner  was  uneasy 
and  astonished,  and  showed  a sense  of  humiliation. 

^^I’ll  have  a bell,”  said  Boffin,  '^hung  from  this  room 
to  yours,  and  when  I want  you.  I’ll  touch  it.  I don’t 
call  to  mind  that  I have  anything  more  to  say  at  the 
present  moment.” 

The  Secretary  rose,  gathered  up  his  papers,  and  with- 


48 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


drew.  Bella’s  eyes  followed  him  to  the  door,  lighted  oil 
Mr.  Boffin  complacently  thrown  back  in  his  easy  chair, 
and  drooped  over  her  book. 

have  let  that  chap,  that  young  man  of  mine,”  said 
Mr.  Boffin,  taking  a trot  up  and  down  the  room,  ^‘get 
above  his  work  It  won’t  do.  I must  have  him  down  a 
peg.  A man  of  property  owes  a duty  to  other  men  of 
property,  and  must  look  sharp  after  his  inferiors.” 

Bella  felt  that  Mrs.  Boffin  was  not  comfortable,  and 
that  the  eyes  of  that  creature  sought  to  discover  from 
her  face  what  attention  she  had  given  to  this  discourse, 
and  what  impression  it  had  made  upon  her.  For  which 
reason  Bella’s  eyes  drooped  more  engrossedly  over  her 
book,  and  she  turned  the  page  with  an  air  of  profound 
absorption  in  it. 

Noddy,”  said  Mrs.Boffin,  after  thoughtfully  pausing 
in  her  work. 

'^My  dear,”  returned  the  Golden  Dustman,  stopping 
short  in  his  trot. 

^VExcuse  my  putting  it  to  you.  Noddy,  but  now  really! 
Haven’t  you  been  a little  strict  with  Mr.  Rokesmith  to- 
night? Haven’t  you  been  a little — just  a little  little — 
not  quite  like  your  old  self  ? ” 

Why,  old  woman,  I hope  so,”  returned  Mr.  Boffin 
cheerfully,  if  not  boastfully. 

Hope  so,  deary  ? ” 

Our  old  selves  wouldn’t  do  here,  old  lady.  Haven’t 
you  found  that  out  yet?  Our  old  selves  would  be  fit  for 
nothing  here  but  to  be  robbed  and  imposed  upon.  Our 
old  selves  weren’t  people  of  fortune;  our  new  selves  are; 
it’s  a great  difference.” 

Ah! ’’said  Mrs.  Boffin,  pausing  in  her  work  again, 
softly  to  draw  a long  breath  and  to  look  at  the  fire.  ^^A 
great  difference.” 

''  And  we  must  be  up  to  the  difference,”  pursued  her 
husband;  ^^we  must  be  equal  to  the  change;  that’s 
what  we  must  be.  We’ve  got  to  hold  our  own  now, 
against  everybody  (for  everybody’s  hand  is  stretched 
out  to  be  dipped  into  our  pockets),  and  we  have  got  to 
recollect  that  money  makes  money,  as  well  as  makes 
everything  else.” 

Mentioning  recollecting,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin,  with  her 
work  abandoned,  her  eyes  upon  the  fire,  and  her  chin 
upon  her  hand,  do  you  recollect.  Noddy,  how  you  said 


IN  BAD  COMPANY. 


49 


to  Mr.  Rokesmith  when  he  first  came  to  see  us  at  the 
Bower,  and  you  engaged  him — how  you  said  to  him  that 
if  it  had  pleased  Heaven  to  send  John  Harmon  to  his 
fortune  safe,  we  could  have  been  content  with  the  one 
Mound  which  was  our  legacy,  and  should  never  have 
wanted  the  rest  ? ’’ 

Ay,  I remember,  old  lady.  But  we  hadn’t  tried 
what  it  was  to  have  the  rest  then.  Our  new  shoes  had 
come  home,  but  we  hadn’t  put  ’em  on.  We’re  wearing 
’em  now,  we’re  wearing  ’em,  and  must  step  out  accord- 
ingly.” 

Mrs.  Boffin  took  up  her  work  again,  and  plied  her 
needle  in  silence. 

As  to  Rokesmith,  that  young  man  of  mine,”  said 
Mr.  Boffin,  dropping  his  voice,  and  glancing  towards 
the  door  with  an  apprehension  of  being  overheard  by 
some  eavesdropper  there,  ‘^it’s  the  same  with  him  as 
with  the  footmen.  I have  found  out  that  you  must 
either  scrunch  them,  or  let  them  scrunch  you.  If  you 
ain’t  imperious  with  ’em,  they  won’t  believe  in  your 
being  any  better  than  themselves,  if  as  good,  after  the 
stories  (lies  mostly)  that  they  have  heard  of  your  be- 
ginnings. There’s  nothing  betwixt  stiffening  yourself 
up,  and  throwing  yourself  away ; take  my  word  for 
that,  old  lady.” 

Bella  ventured  for  a moment  to  look  stealthily  towards 
him  under  her  eyelashes,  and  she  saw  a dark  cloud  of 
suspicion,  covetousness,  and  conceit,  overshadowing 
the  once  open  face. 

Hows’ever,”  said  he,  this  isn’t  entertaining  to  Miss 
Bella.  Is  it  Bella  ? ” 

A deceiving  Bella  she  was,  to  look  at  him  with  that 
pensively  abstracted  air,  as  if  her  mind  was  full  of  her 
book,  and  she  had  not  heard  a single  word  ! 

Hah  ! Better  employed  than  to  attend  to  it,”  said 
Mr.  Boffin.  That’s  right,  that’s  right.  Especially  as 
you  have  no  call  to  be  told  how  to  value  yourself,  my 
dear.” 

Colouring  a little  under  this  compliment,  Bella  re- 
turned, I hope,  sir,  you  don’t  think  me  vain  ?” 

''  Not  a bit,  my  dear,”  said  Mr.  Boffin.  ''  But  I think 
it’s  very  creditable  in  you,  at  your  age,  to  be  so  well  up 
with  the  pace  of  the  world,  and  to  knovr  what  to  go  in 
for.  You  are  right.  Go  in  for  money,  my  love.  Money’s 

VOL.  II.  4 


50 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRI'END. 


the  article.  YouTl  make  money  of  your  good  looks,  and 
of  the  money  Mrs.  Boffin  and  me  will  have  the  pleasure 
of  settling  upon  you,  and  you’ll  live  and  die  rich.  That's 
the  state  to  live  and  die  in  ! ” said  Mr.  Boffin,  in  an  unc- 
tuous manner.  R — r — rich  ! ” 

There  was  an  expression  of  distress  in  Mrs.  Boffin’s 
face,  as,  after  watching  her  husband’s,  she  turned  to 
their  adopted  girl,  and  said  : Don't  mind  him,  Bella, 
my  dear.” 

Eh  ?”  cried  Mr.  Boffin.  What  ! Not  mind  him  ?” 
don’t  mean  that,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin,  with  a worried 
look,  but  I mean,  don’t  believe  him  to  be  anything  but 
good  and  generous,  Bella,  because  he  is  the  best  of  men. 
No,  I must  say  that  much,  Noddy.  You  are  always  the 
best  of  men.” 

She  made  the  declaration  as  if  he  were  objecting  to 
it : which  assuredly  he  was  not  in  any  way. 

''  And  as  to  you,  my  dear  Bella,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin,  still 
with  that  distressed  expression,  he  is  so  much  attached 
to  you,  what(sver  he  says,  that  your  own  father  has  not 
a truer  interest  in  you,  and  can  hardly  like  you  better 
than  he  does.” 

‘^Says,  too  !”  cried  Mr.  Boffin.  Whatever  he  says  ! 
Why,  I say  so  openly.  Give  me  a kiss,  my  dear  child, 
in  saying  Good  Night,  and  let  me  confirm  what  my  old 
lady  tells  you.  I am  very  fond  of  you,  my  dear,  and  I 
am  entirely  of  your  mind,  and  you  and  I will  take  care 
that  you  shall  be  rich.  These  good  looks  of  yours  (which 
you  have  some  right  to  be  vain  of,  my  dear,  though  you 
are  not,  you  know)  are  worth  money,  and  you  shall 
make  money  of  ’em.  The  money  you  will  have  will  be 
worth  money,  and  you  shall  make  money  of  that  too. 
There’s  a golden  ball  at  your  feet.  Good  night,  mv 
dear.” 

Somehow,  Bella  was  not  so  well  pleased  with  this  as- 
surance and  this  prospect  as  she  might  have  been. 
Somehow,  when  she  put  her  arms  round  Mrs.  Boffin’s 
neck  and  said  Good  Night,  she  derived  sense  of  unwor- 
thiness from  the  still  anxious  face  of  that  good  woman 
and  her  obvious  wish  to  excuse  her  husband.  Why, 
what  need  to  excuse  him  ? ” thought  Bella,  sitting  down 
in  her^wn  room.  'AVhat  he  said  was  very  sensible,  I 
am  sure,  and  very  true,  I am  sure.  It  is  only  what  I 
often  say  to  myself.  Don’t  I like  it  then  ? No.  I don't 


IN  BAD  COMPANY. 


51 


like  it,  and,  though  he  is  my  liberal  benefactor,  I dis- 
parage him  for  it.  Then  pray,”  said  Bella,  sternly  put- 
ting the  question  to  herself  in  the  looking-glass  as  usual, 

. ^'what  do  you  mean  by  this,  you  inconsistent  little 
Beast  ? ” 

The  looking-glass  preserving  a discreet  ministerial  si- 
lence when  thus  called  upon  for  explanation,  Bella  went 
to  bed  with  a weariness  upon  her  spirit  which  was  more 
than  the  weariness  of  want  of  sleep.  And  again  in  the 
morning,  she  looked  for  the  cloud,  and  for  the  deepen- 
ing of  the  cloud,  upon  the  Golden  Dustman’s  face. 

She  had  begun  by  this  time  to  be  his  frequent  com- 
panion in  his  morning  strolls  about  the  streets,  and  it 
was  at  this  time  that  he  made  her  a party  to  his  engag- 
ing in  a curious  pursuit.  Having  been  hard  at  work 
in  one  dull  enclosure  all  his  life,  he  had  a child’s  delight 
in  looking  at  shops.  It  had  been  one  of  the  first  novel- 
ties and  pleasures  of  his  freedom,  and  was  equally  the 
delight  of  his  wife.  For  many  years  their  only  walks 
in  London  had  been  taken  on  Sundays,  when  the  shops 
were  shut ; and,  when  every  day  in  the  week  became 
their  holiday,  they  derived  an  enjoyment  from  the 
variety  and  fancy  and  beauty  of  the  display  in  the  win- 
dows, which  seemed  incapable  of  exhaustion.  As  if 
the  principal  streets  were  a great  Theatre,  and  the  play 
were  childishly  new  to  them,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin,  from 
the  beginning  of  Bella’s  intimacy  in  their  house,  had 
been  constantly  in  the  front  row,  charmed  with  all  they 
saw,  and  applauding  vigorously.  But  now,  Mr.  Bof- 
fin’s interest  began  to  centre  in  book-shops  ; and  more 
than  that — for  that  of  itself  would  not  have  been  much 
— in  one  exceptional  kind  of  book. 

Look  in  here,  my  dear,”  Mr.  Boffin  would  say, 
checking  BLella’s  arm  at  a bookseller’s  window  ^^you 
can  read  at  sight,  and  your  eyes  are  as  sharp  as  they’re 
bright.  Now,  look  well  about  you,  my  dear,  and  tell 
me  if  you  see  any  book  about  a miser!  ” 

If  Bella  saw  such  a book,  Mr.  Boffin  would  instantly 
dart  in  and  buy  it.  And  still,  as  if  they  had  not  found 
it,  they  would  seek  out  another  book-shop,  and  Mr. 
Boffin  would  say,  '^Now,  look  well  all  round,  my  dear, 
for  a Life  of  a Miser,  or  any  book  of  that  sort  ; any 
Lives  of  odd  characters  who  may  have  been  Misers.” 

Bella,  thus  directed,  would  examine  the  window  with 


52  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

the  greatest  attention,  while  Mr.  Boffin  would  examine 
her  face.  The  moment  she  pointed  out  any  book  as 
being  entitled  Lives  of  eccentric  personages,  Anecdotes 
of  strange  characters,  Records  of  remarkable  indi- 
viduals, or  anything  to  that  purpose,  Mr.  Boffin's  coun- 
tenance would  light  up,  and  he  would  instantly  dart  in 
and  buy  it.  Size,  price,  quality,  were  of  no  account. 
Any  book  that  seemed  to  promise  a chance  of  miserly 
biography,  Mr.  Boffin  purchased  without  a moment’s 
delay  and  carried  home.  Happening  to  be  informed  by 
a bookseller  that  a portion  of  the  Annual  Register  was 
devoted  to  Characters,”  Mr.  Boffin  at  once  bought  a 
whole  set  of  that  ingenious  compilation,  and  began  to 
carry  it  home  piecemeal,  confiding  a volume  to  Bella, 
and  bearing  three  himself.  The  completion  of  this  la- 
bour occupied  them  about  a fortnight.  When  the  task 
was  done,  Mr.  Boffin,  with  his  appetite  for  Misers 
whetted  instead  of  satiated,  began  to  look  out  again. 

It  very  soon  became  unnecessary  to  tell  Bella  what 
to  look  for,  and  an  understanding  was  established  be- 
tween her  and  Mr.  Boffin  that  she  was  always  to  look 
for  Lives  of  ^ Misers.  Morning  after  morning  they 
roamed  about ’the  town  together,  pursuing  this  singular 
research.  Miserly  literature  not  being  abundant,  the 
proportion  of  failures  to  successes  may  have  been  as  a 
hundred  to  one;  still  Mr.  Boffin,  never  wearied,  remained 
as  avaricious  for  misers  as  he  had  been  at  the  first 
onset.  It  was  curious  that  Bella  never  saw  the  books 
about  the  house,  nor  did  she  ever  hear  from  Mr.  Boffin 
one  word  of  reference  to  their  contents.  He  seemed  to 
save  up  his  Misers  as  they  had  saved  up  their  money. 
As  they  had  been  greedy  for  it,  and  secret  about  it,  and 
had  hidden  it,  so  he  was  greedy  for  them,  and  secret 
about  them,  and  hid  them.  But  beyond  all  doubt  it  was 
to  be  noticed,  and  was  by  Bella  very  clearly  noticed, 
that,  as  he  pursued  the  acquisition  of  those  dismal 
records  with  the  ardour  of  Don  Quixote  for  his  books  of 
chivalry,  he  began  to  spend  his  money  with  a more 
sparing  hand.  And  often  when  he  came  out  of  a shop 
with  some  new  account  of  one  of  those  wretched  luna- 
tics, she  would  almost  shrink  from  the  sly  dry  chuckle 
with  which  he  would  take  her  arm  again  and  trot 
away.  It  did  not  appear  that  Mrs.  Boffin  knew  of  this 
taste.  He  made  no  allusion  to  it,  except  in  the  morning 


IN  BAD  COMPANY. 


53 


walks  when  he  and  Bella  were  always  alone;  and  Bella, 
partly  under  the  impression  that  he  took  her  into  his 
confidence  by  implication,  and  partly  in  remembrance 
of  Mrs.  Boffin’s  anxious  face  that  night,  held  the  same 
reserve. 

While  these  occurrences  were  in  progress,  Mrs. 
Lammle  made  the  discovery  that  Bella  had  a fascin- 
ating infiuence  over  her.  The  Lammles,  originally  pre- 
sented by  the  dear  Veneerings,  visited  the  Boffins  on  all 
grand  occasions,  and  Mrs.  Lammle  had  not  previously 
found  this  out;  but  now  the  knowledge  came  upon  her 
all  at  once.  It  was  a most  extraordinary  thing  (she 
said  to  Mrs.  Boffin) ; she  was  foolishly  susceptible  of  the 
power  of  beauty,  but  it  wasn’t  altogether  that ; she 
never  had  been  able  to  resist  a natural  grace  of  man- 
ner, but  it  wasn’t  altogether  that;  it  was  more  than  that, 
and  there  was.  no  name  for  the  indescribable  extent 
and  degree  to  which  she  was  captivated  by  this  charm- 
ing girl. 

This  charming  girl  having  the  words  repeated  to  her 
by  Mrs.  Boffin  (who  was  proud  of  her  being  admired, 
and  would  have  done  anything  to  give  her  pleasure), 
naturally  recognised  in  Mrs.  Lammle  a woman  of 
penetration  and  taste.  Responding  to  the  sentiments 
by  being  very  gracious  to  Mrs.  Lammle,  she  gave  that 
lady  the  means  of  so  improving  her  opportunity  as 
that  the  captivation  became  reciprocal,  though  always 
wearing  an  appearance  of  greater  sobriety  on  Bella’s 
part  than  on  the  enthusiastic  Sophronia’s.  Howbeit, 
they  were  so  much  together  that,  for  a time,  the  Boffin 
chariot  held  Mrs.  Lammle  oftener  than  Mrs.  Boffin  : 
a preference  of  which  the  latter  worthy  soul  was  not 
in  the  least  jealous,  placidly  remarking,  ^Alrs.  Lammle 
is  a younger  companion  for  her  than  I am,  and  Lor  ! 
she’s  more  fashionable.” 

But  between  Bella  Wilfer  and  Georgiana  Podsnap 
there  was  this  one  difference,  among  many  others,  that 
Bella  was  in  no  danger  of  being  captivated  by  Alfred. 
She  distrusted  and  disliked  him.  Indeed,  her  percep- 
tion was  so  quick,  and  her  observation  so  sharp,  that* 
after  all  she  mistrusted  his  wife  too,  though  with  her 
giddy  vanity  and  wilfulness  she  squeezed  the  mistrust 
away  into  a corner  of  her  mind,  and  blocked  it  up 
there. 


54 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Mrs.  Lammle  took  the  friendliest  interest  in  Bella's 
making  a good  match.  Mrs.  Lammle  said,  in  a sport- 
ive way,  she  really  must  show  her  beautiful  Bella 
what  kind  of  wealthy  creatures  she  and  Alfred  had  on 
hand,  who  would  as  one  man  fall  at  her  feet  enslaved. 
Fitting  occasion  made,  Mrs.  Lammle  accordingly 
produced  the  most  passable  of  those  feverish,  boast- 
ful, and  indefinably  loose  gentlemen  who  were  always 
lounging  in  and  out  of  the  city  on  questions  of  the 
Bourse  and  Greek  and  Spanish  and  India  and  Mexican 
and  par  and  premium  and  discount  and  three-quar- 
ters and  seven -eighths.  Who  in  their  agreeable  manner 
did  homage  to  Bella  as  if  she  were  a compound  of  fine 
girl,  thorough-bred  horse,  well-built  drag,  and  re- 
markable pipe.  But  without  the  least  effect,  though 
even  Mr.  J'ledgeby's  attractions  were  cast  into  the 
scale.  ‘ 

^‘I  fear,  Bella  dear,”  said  Mrs.  Lammle  one  day  in 
the  chariot,  that  you  will  be  very  hard  to  please.” 

''I  don’t  expect  to  be  pleased,  dear,”  said  Bella,  with 
a languid  turn  of  her  eyes. 

Truly,  my  love,”  returned  Sophronia,  shaking  her 
head,  and  smiling  her  best  smile,  ‘‘it  would  be  very 
easy  to  find  a man  worthy  of  your  attractions.” 

''The  question  is  not  a man,  my  dear,”  said  Bella, 
coolly,  " but  an  establishment.” 

"My  love,”  returned  Mrs.  Lammle,  "your  prudence 
amazes  me — where  did  you  study  life  so  well! — you  are 
right.  In  such  a case  as  yours,  the  object  is  a fitting 
establishment.  You  could  not  descend  to  an  inade- 
quate one  from  Mr.  Boffin’s  house,  and  even  if  3^our 
beauty  alone  could  not  command  it,  it  is  to  be  assumed 
that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin  will ” 

"Oh!  they  have  already,”  Bella  interposed. 

"No!  Have  they  really?” 

A little  vexed  by  a suspicion  that  she  had  spoken 
precipitately,  and  withal  a little  defiant  of  her  own 
vexation,  Bella  determined  not  to  retreat. 

" That  is  to  say,”  she  explained,  "they  have  told  me 
they  mean  to  portion  me  as  their  adopted  child,  if  you 
mean  that.  But  don’t  mention  it.” 

"Mention  it  !”  replied  Mrs.  Lammle,  as  if  she  were 
full  of  awakened  feeling  at  the  suggestion  of  such  an 
impossibility.  " Men-tion  it!” 


IN  BAD  COMPANY. 


55 


I don’t  mind  telling  you,  Mrs.  Lammle ” Bella 

began  again. 

''  My  love,  say  Soplironia,  or  I must  not  say  Bella.” 

With  a little  short,  petulant  ''Oh!”  Bella  complied. 
"Oh! — Sophronia then — I don’t  mind  telling  you,  Soph- 
ronia,  that  I am  convinced  I have  no  heart,  as  people 
call  it;  and  that  I think  that  sort  of  thing  is  nonsense.” 

"Brave  girl!”  murmured  Mrs.  Lammle. 

"And  so,”  pursued  Bella,  "as  to  seeking  to  please 
myself,  I don’t;  except  in  the  one  respect  1 have  men- 
tioned. I am  indifferent  otherwise.” 

" But  you  can’t  help  pleasing,Bella,”  said  Mrs.  Lammle, 
rallying  her  with  an  arch  look  and  her  best  smile,  " you 
can’t  help  making  a proud  and  admiring  husband.  You 
may  not  care  to  please  yourself,  and  you  may  not  care 
to  please  him,  but  you  are  not  a free  agent  as  to  pleas- 
ing; you  are  forced  to  do  that,  in  spite  of  yourself,  my 
dear;  so  it  may  be  a question  whether  you  may  not  as 
well  please  yourself  too,  if  you  caif.” 

Now,  the  very  grossness  of  this  flattery  put  Bella 
upon  proving  that  she  actually  did  please  in  spite  of  her- 
self. She  had  a misgiving  that  she  was  doing  wrong — 
though  she  had  an  indistinct  foreshadowing  that  some 
harm  might  come  of  it  thereafter,  she  little  thought 
what  consequences  it  would  really  bring  about — but  she 
went  on  with  her  confidence. 

"Don’t  talk  of  pleasing  in  spite  of  one’s  self,  dear,” 
said  Bella.  " I have  had  enough  of  that.” 

"Ay?”  cried  Mrs.  Lammle.  "Am  I already  corrobo- 
rated, Bella?” 

"Never  mind,  Sophronia,  we  will  not  speak  of  it  any 
more.  Don’t  ask  me  about  it.” 

This  plainly  meaning.  Do  ask  me  about  it,  Mrs. 
Lammle  did  as  she  was  requested. 

"Tell  me,  Bella.  Come,  my  dear.  What  provoking- 
burr  has  been  inconveniently  attracted  to  the  charming- 
skirts,  and  with  difficulty  shaken  off.” 

"Provoking  indeed,”  said  Bella,  "and  no  burr  to 
boast  of!  But  don’t  ask  me.” 

" Shall  I guess?” 

"You  would  never  guess.  What  would  you* say  to 
our  Secretary?” 

" My  dear!  The  hermit  Secretary,  who  creeps  up  and 
down  the  back  stairs,  and  is  never  seen!” 


o6 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


don’t  know  about  his  creeping  up  and  down  the 
back  stairs/’  said  Bella,  rather  contemptuously,  '^fur- 
ther than  knowing  that  he  does  no  such  thing;  and  as  to 
his  never  being  seen,  I should  be  content  never  to  have 
seen  him,  though  he  is  quite  as  visible  as  you  are.  But 
I pleased  him  (for  my  sins),  and  he  had  the  presumption 
to  tell  me  so.” 

The  man  never  made  a declaration  to  you,  my  dear 
Bella  ? ” 

''  Are  you  sure  of  that,  Sophronia?  ” said  Bella.  ‘'I  am 
not.  In  fact,  I am  sure  of  the  contrary.” 

''The  man  must  be  mad,”  said  Mrs.  Lammle,  with  a 
kind  of  resignation. 

" He  appeared  to  be  in  his  senses,”  returned  Bella,  toss- 
ing her  head,  " and  he  had  plenty  to  say  for  himself.  I 
told  him  my  opinion  of  his  declaration  and  his  conduct 
and  dismissed  him.  Of  course  this  has  all  oeen  very  in- 
convenient to  me,  and  very  disagreeable.  It  has  remain- 
ed a secret,  however.*  That  word  reminds  me  to  observe, 
Sophronia,  that  I have  glided  on  into  telling  you  the 
secret,  and  that  I rely  upon  you  never  to  mention  it.” 

" Mention  it,”  repeated  Mrs.  Lammle  with  her  former 
feeling.  " Men-tion  it ! ” 

This  time  Sophronia  was  so  much  in  earnest  that  she 
found  it  necessary  to  bend  forward  in  the  carriage  and 
give  Bella  a kiss.  A Judas  order  of  kiss ; for  she 
thought,  while  she  yet  pressed  Bella’s  hand  after  giving 
it,  "Upon  your  own  showing,  you  vain,  heartless  girl, 
puffed  up  by  the  doting  folly  of  a dustman,  I need  have 
no  relenting  towards  you.  If  my  husband,  who  sends 
me  here,  should  form  any  schemes  for  making  you  a 
victim,  I should  certainly  not  cross  him  again.”  In 
those  very  same  moments,  Bella  was  thinking,  "Why 
am  I always  at  war  with  myself  ? Why  have  I told,  as 
if  upon  compulsion,  what  I knew  all  along  I ought  to 
have  withheld?  Why  am  I making  a friend  of  this 
woman  beside  me,  in  spite  of  the  whispers  against  her 
that  I hear  in  my  heart  ? ” 

As  usual,  there  was  no  answer  in  the  looking-glass 
when  she  got  home  and  referred  these  questions  to  it. 
Perhaps,  if  she  had  consulted  some  better  oracle,  the  re- 
sult might  have  been  more  satisfactory;  but  she  did 
not,  and  all  things  consequent  marched  the  march  be- 
fore them. 


m BAD  COMPANY. 


07 


On  one  point  connected  with  the  watch  she  kept  on 
Mr.  Boffin,  she  felt  very  inquisitive,  and  that  was  the 
question  whether  the  Secretary  watched  him  too,  and 
followed  the  sure  and  steady  change  in  him,  as  she  did? 
Her  very  limited  intercourse  with  Mr.  Rokesmith  ren- 
dered this  hard  to  find  out.  Their  communication  now, 
at  no  time  extended  beyond  the  preservation  of  com- 
monplace appearances  before  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin;  and 
if  Bella  and  the  Secretary  were  ever  left  alone  together 
by  any  chance,  he  immediately  withdrew.  She  con- 
sulted his  face  when  she  could  do  so  covertly,  as  she 
worked  or  read,  and  could  make  nothing  of  it.  He 
looked  subdued;  but  he  had  acquired  a strong  command 
of  feature,  and  whenever  Mr.  Boffin  spoke  to  him  in 
Bella’s  presence,  or  whatever  revelation  of  himself  Mr. 
Boffin  made,  the  Secretary’s  face  changed  no  more  than 
a wall.  A slightly-knitted  brow,  that  expressed  nothing 
but  an  almost  mechanical  attention,  and  a compression 
of  the  mouth,  that  might  have  been  a guard  against  a 
scornful  smile — these  she  saw  from  morning  to  night, 
from  day  to  day,  from  week  to  week,  monotonous,  un- 
varying, set,  as  in  a piece  of  sculpture. 

The  worst  of  the  matter  was  that  it  thus  fell  out  in- 
sensibly— and  most  provokingly,  as  Bella  complained 
to  herself  in  her  impetuous  little  manner — that  her  ob- 
servation of  Mr.  Boffin  involved  a continual  observation 
of  Mr.  Rokesmith.  Won’t  that  extract  a look  from 
him?” — Can  it  be  possible  that  makes  no  impression 
on  him?”  Such  questions  Bella  would  propose  to  her- 
self, often  as  many  times  in  a day  as  there  were  hours 
in  it.  Impossible  to  know.  Always  the  same  fixed  face. 

Can  he  be  so  base  as  to  sell  his  very  nature  for  two 
hundred  a year?”  Bella  would  think.  And  then,  But 
why  not?  It’s  a mere  question  of  price  with  others  be- 
sides him.  I suppose  I would  sell  mine  if  I could  get 
enough  for  it.”  And  so  she  would  come  round  again  to 
the  war  with  herself. 

A kind  of  illegibility,  though  a different  kind,  stole 
over  Mr.  Boffin’s  face.  Its  old  simplicity  of  expression 
got  masked  by  a certain  craftiness  that  assimilated  even 
his  good  humour  to  itself.  His  very  smile  was  cunning, 
as  if  he  had  been  studying  smiles  among  the  por- 
traits of  his  misers.  Saving  an  occasional  burst  of  im- 
patience^ or  coarse  assertion  of  his  mastery,  his  good 


58 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


humour  remained  to  him,  but  it  had  now  a sordid  alloy 
of  distrust;  and  though  his  eyes  would  twinkle  and  all 
his  face  would  laugh,  he  would  sit  holding  himself  in 
his  own  arms,  as  if  he  had  an  inclination  to  hoard  him- 
self up,  and  must  always  grudgingly  stand  on  the  de- 
fensive. 

What  with  taking  heed  of  these  two  faces,  and  what 
with  feeling  conscious  that  the  stealthy  occupation  must 
set  some  mark  on  her  own,  Bella  soon  began  to  think 
that  there  was  not  a candid  or  a natural  face  among 
them  all  but  Mrs.  Boffin’s.  None  the  less  because  it  was 
far  less  radiant  than  of  yore,  faithfully  reflecting  in  its 
anxiety  and  regret  every  line  of  change  in  the  Golden 
Dustman’s. 

Rokesmith,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  one  evening  when 
they  were  all  in  his  room  again,  and  he  and  the  Secre- 
tary had  been  going  over  some  accounts,  ''  I am  spend- 
ing too  much  money.  Or  leastways,  you  are  spending 
too  much  for  me.” 

''You.  are  rich,  sir.” 

"‘I  am  not,”  said  Mr.  Boffin. 

The  sharpnesss  of  the  retort  was  next  to  telling  tl\e 
Secretary  that  he  lied.  But  it  brought  no  change  of 
expression  into  the  set  face. 

I tell  you  I am  not  rich,”  repeated  Mr.  Boffin,  and 
I won’t  have  it.” 

^ Won  are  not  rich,  sir  ?”  repeated  the  Secretary,  in 
measured  words. 

^^Well,”  returned  Mr.  Boffin,  "it  I ain,  that’s  my 
business.  I am  not  going  to  spend  at  this  rate,  to 
please  you,  or  anybody.  You  wouldn’t  like  it  if  it  was 
your  money.” 

''Even  in  that  impossible  case,  sir,  I ” 

" Hold  your  tongue  ! ” said  Mr.  Boffin.  "You  oughtn’t 
to  like  it  in  any  case.  There  ! I didn’t  mean  to  be  rude, 
but  you  put  me  out  so,  and,  after  all.  I’m  master.  I didn’t 
intend  to  tell  you  to  hold  your  tongue.  I beg  your  par- 
don. Don’t  hold  your  tongue.  Only  don’t  contradict. 
Did  you  ever  come  across  the  life  of  Mr.  Elwes  ? ” re- 
ferring to  his  favourite  subject  at  last. 

" The  miser  ?” 

" Ah,  people  called  him  a miser.  People  are  always 
calling  other  people  something.  Did  you  ever  read 
about  him  ? ” 


m BAD  COMPANY. 


59 


I think  so.” 

never  owned  to  being  rich,  and  yet  he  might 
have  bought  me  twice  over.  Did  you  ever  hear  of 
Daniel  Dancer  ? ” 

Another  miser  ? Yes.” 

^‘He  was  a good  ’un,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  ^^and  he  had  a 
sister  worthy  of  him.  They  never  called  themselves 
rich  neither.  If  they  had  called  themselves  rich,  most 
likely  they  wouldn’t  have  been  so.” 

‘^They  lived  and  died  very  miserably.  Did  they  not, 
sir  ? ” • 

^^Yo,  I don’t  know  that  they  did,”  said  Mr.  Boffin, 
curtly. 

Then  they  are  not  the  Misers  I mean.  Those  abject 
wretches ” 

Don’t  call  names,  Rokesmith,”  said  Mr.  Boffin. 

— That  exemplary  brother  and  sister — lived  and  died 
in  the  foulest  and  filthiest  degradation.” 

They  pleased  themselves,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  ^^andl 
suppose  they  could  have  done  no  more  if  they  had  spent 
their  money.  But,  however,  I ain’t  going  to  fling  mine 
away.  Keep  the  expenses  down.  The  fact  is,  you  ain’t 
enough  here,  Rokesmith.  It  wants  constant  attention  in 
the  littlest  things.  Some  of  us  will  be  dying  in  a work- 
house  next.” 

As  the  persons  you  have  cited,”  quietly  remarked 
the  Secretary,  thought  they  would,  if  I remember, 
sir.” 

And  very  creditable  in  ’em  too,”  said  Mr.  Boffin. 

Very  independent  in  ’em  ! But  never  mind  them  just 
now.  Have  you  given  notice  to  quit  your  lodgings  ? ” 

Under  your  direction,  I have,  sir.” 

''Then  I tell  you  what,”  said  Mr.  Boffin;  " pay  the 
quarter’s  rent — pay  the  quarter’s  rent,  it’ll  be  the  cheap- 
est thing  in  the  end — and  come  here  at  once,  so  that  you 
may  be  always  on  the  spot,  day  and  night,  and  keep  the 
expenses  down.  You’ll  charge  the  quarter’s  rent  to  me, 
and  we  must  try  and  save  it  somewhere.  You’ve  got 
some  lovely  furniture;  haven’t  you  ?” 

" The  furniture  in  my  rooms  is  my  own.” 

" Then  we  shan’t  have  to  buy  any  for  you.  Incase 
you  was  to  think  it,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  with  a look  of 
peculiar  shrewdness,  "so  honourably  independent  in 
you  as  to  make  it  a relief  to  your  mind,  to-  make  that 


(iO  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

# 

furniture  over  to  me  in  the  light  of  a set-off  against 
the  quarter’s  rent,  why  ease  your  mind,  ease  your  mind. 
I don’t  ask  it,  but  I won’t  stand  in  your  way  if  you 
should  consider  it  due  to  yourself.  As  to  your  room, 
choose  any  empty  room  at  the  top  of  the  house.” 

Any  empty  room  will  do  for  me,”  said  the  Secretary. 

You  can  take  your  pick,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  ''  and  it’ll 
be  as  good  as  eight  or  ten  shillings  a week  added  to 
your  income.  I won’t  deduct  for  it;  I look  to  you  to  make 
it  up  handsomely  by  keeping  the  expenses  down.  Now, 
if  you’ll  show  a light,  I'll  come  to  your  office-room  and 
dispose  of  a letter  or  two.” 

On  that  clear,  generous  face  of  Mrs.  Boffin’s,  Bella  had 
seen  such  traces  of  a pang  at  the  heart  while  this  dia- 
logue was  being  held,  that  she  had  not  the  courage  to 
turn  her  eyes  to  it  when  they  were  left  alone.  Feigning 
to  be  intent  on  her  embroidery,  she  sat  plying  her  needle 
until  her  busy  hand  was  stopped  by  Mrs.  Boffin’s  hand 
being  lightly  laid  upon  it.  Yielding  to  the  touch,  she 
felt  her  hand  carried  to  the  good  soill’s  lips,  and  felt  a 
tear  fall  on  it. 

Oh,  my  loved  husband!”  said  Mrs.  Boffin.  ''  This  is 
hard  to  see  and  hear.  But  my  dear  Bella,  believe  me 
that  in  spite  of  all  the  change  in  him,  he  is  the  best  of 
men.” 

He  came  back  at  the  moment  when  Bella  had  taken 
‘the  hand  comfortingly  between  her  own. 

^^Eh?”  said  he,  mistrustfully  looking  in  at  the  door. 
'^What’s  she  telling  you?” 

She  is  only  praising  you,  sir,”  said  Bella.  , 

Praising  me?  You  are  sure?  Not  blaming  me  for 
standing  on  my  own  defence  against  a crew  of  plundei  - 
ers,  who  would  suck  me  dry  by  driblets?  Not  blaming 
me  for  getting  a little  hoard  together?” 

He  came  up  to  them,  and  his  wife  folded  her  hands 
upon  his  shoulder,  and  shook  her  head,  as  she  laid  it  on 
her  hands. 

There,  there,  there!  ” urged  Mr.  Boffin,  not  unkindly. 

Don’t  take  on,  old  lady.” 

Blit  I can’t  bear  to  see  you  so,’ my  dear.” 

Nonsense!  Recollect  we  are  not  our  old  selves. 
Recollect,  we  must  scrunch  or  be  scrunched.  Recollect, 
we  must  hold  our  own.  Recollect,  money  makes  money. 
Don’t  you  be  uneasy,  Bella,  my  child;  don’t  you  be 


61 


m WORSE  COMPANY. 

doubtful.  The  more  I save,  the  more  you  shall  have.’' 

Bella  thought  it  was  well  for  his  wife  that  she  was 
musing  with  her  affectionate  face  on  his  shoulder;  for 
there  was  a cunning  light  in  his  eyes  as  he  said  all  this, 
which  seemed  to  cast  a disagreeable  illumination  on 
the  change  in  him,  and  make  it  morally  uglier. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  FALLS  INTO  WORSE  COMPANY. 

IT  had  come  to  pass  that  Mr.  Silas  Wegg  now  rarely 
attended  the  minion  of  fortune  and  the  worm  of  the 
hour,  at  his  (the  worm’s  and  minion’s)  own  house,  but 
lay  under  general  instructions  to  await  him  within  a 
certain  margin  of  hours  at  the  Bower.  Mr.  Wegg  took 
this  arrangement  in  great  dudgeon,  because  the  ap- 
pointed hours  were  evening  hours,  and  those  he  con- 
sidered precious  to  the  progress  of  the  friendly  move. 
But  it  was  quite  in  character,  he  bitterly  remarked  to 
Mr.  V^ius,  that  the  upstart  who  had  trampled  on  those 
eminent  creatures.  Miss  Elizabeth,  Master  George,  Aunt 
Jane,  and  Uncle  Parker,  should  oppress  his  literary 
man. 

The  Roman  Empire  having  worked  out  its  destruction, 
Mr.  Boffin  next  appeared  in  a cab  with  Rolliii’s  Ancient 
History,  which  valuable  work  being  found  to  possess 
lethargic  preperties,  broke  down,  at  about  the  period 
when  the  whole  of  the  army  of  Alexander  the  Mace- 
donian (at  that  time  about  forty  thousand  strong)  burst 
into  tears  simultaneously,  on  his  being  taken  with  a 
shivering  fit  after  bathing.  The  Wars  of  the  Jews, 
likewise  languishing  under  Mr.  Wegg’s  generalship, 
Mr.  Boffin  arrived  in  another  cab  with  Plutarch  : whose 
lives  he  found  in  the  sequel  extremely  entertaining, 
though  he  hoped  Plutarch  might  not  exiiect  him  to  be- 
lieve them  all.  What  to  believe,  in  the  course  of  his 
reading,  was  Mr.  Boffin’s  chief  literary  difficulty,  in- 
deed ; for  some  time  he  was  divided  in  his  mind  between 
half,  all,  or  none  ; at  length,  when  he  decided,  as  a 
moderate  man,*  to  compound  with  half,  the  question 


62 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


still  remained^which  half  ? And  that  stumbling  block 
he  never  got  over. 

One  evening,  when  Silas  Wegg  had  grown  accustomed 
to  the  arrival  of  his  patron^  in  a cab,  accompanied  by 
some  profane  historian  charged  with  unutterable  names 
of  incomprehensible  peoples,  of  impossible  descent, 
waging  wars  any  number  of  years  and  syllables  long, 
and  carrying  illimitable  hosts  and  riches  about,  with 
the  greatest  ease,  beyond  the  confines  of  geography — 
one  evening  the  usual  time  passed  by,  and  no  patron 
appeared.  After  half-an-hour’s  grace,  Mr.  Wegg  pro- 
ceeded to  the  outer  gate,  and  there  executed  a whistle, 
conveying  to  Mr.  Venus,  if  perchance  within  hearing, 
the  tidings  of  his  being  at  home  and  disengaged.  Forth 
from  the  shelter  of  a neighboring  wall  Mr.  Venus  then 
emerged. 

Brother  in  arms,”  said  Mr.  Wegg  in  excellent  spirits, 

welcome!” 

In  return,  Mr.  Venus  gave  him  a rather  dry  good 
evening. 

Walk  in,  brother,”  said  Silas,  clapping  him  on  the 
shoulder,  ''and  take  your  seat  in  my  chimley-corner ; 
for  what  says  the  ballad  ? ^ 

‘ No  malice  to  dread,  sir, 

And  no  falsehood  to  fear. 

But  truth  to  delight  me,  Mr.  Venus, 

And  I forgot  what  to  cheer. 

Li  toddle  dee  om  dee. 

And  something  to  guide. 

My  ain’fireside,  sir. 

My  ain  fireside.*  ** 

With  this  quotation  (depending  for  its  neatness  rather 
on  the  spirit  than  the  words),  Mr.  Wegg  conducted  his 
guest  to  his  hearth. 

"And  you  come,  brother,”  said  Mr.  AVegg  in  a hos- 
pitable glow,  "you  come  like  I don’t  know  what — ex- 
actly like  it — I shouldn’t  know  you  from  it — shedding  a 
halo  all  around  you.” 

" What  kind  of  halo  ?”  asked  Mr.  Venus. 

" ’Ope,  sir,”  replied  Silas.  "That’s  ijour  halo.” 

Mr.  Venus  appeared  doubtful  on  the  point,  and  looked 
rather  discontentedly  at  the  fire. 

"We’ll  devote  the  evening,  brother,”  exclaimed  Wegg, 
"to  prosecute  our  friendly  move.  And  afterwards, 
crushing  a flowing  wine-cup — which  I- allude  to  brew- 


IN  WORSE  COMPANY. 


(i.3 


ing  rum  and  water — we’ll  pledge  one  another.  For 
what  says  the  Poet  ? 

‘And  you  needn’t  Mr.  Venus  be  your  black  bottle. 

For  surely  I’ll  be  mine, 

And  we’ll  take  a glass  with  a slice  of  lemon  in  it  to  which  you’re  partial. 

For  auld  lang  syne.’  ” 

This  flow  of  quotation  and  hospitality  in  Wegg  indi- 
cated his  observation  of  some  little  querulousness  on 
the  part  of  Venus. 

''  Why,  as  to  the  friendly  move/’  observed  the  last- 
named  gentleman,  rubbing  his  knees  peevishly,  ''  one 
of  my  objections  to  it  is,  that  it  donH  move.” 

‘^Rome,  brother,”  returned  Wegg:  '^a  city  which 
(it  may  not  be  generally  known)  originated  in  twins 
and  a wolf,  and  ended  in  Imperial  marble  : wasn’t  built 
in  a day.” 

''  Did  I say  it  was  ?”  asked  Venus. 

''No,  j^ou  did  not,  brother.  Well  inquired.’’ 

" But  I do  say,”  proceeded  Venus,  " that  I am  taken 
from  among  my  trophies  of  anatomy,  am  called  upon  to 
exchange  my  human  warious  for  mere  coal-ashes  wari- 
ous,  and  nothing  comes  of  it.  I think  I must  give  up.” 

" No,  sir!  ” remonstrated  Wegg,  enthusiastically.  "No, 
sir! 

* Charge,  Chester,  charge. 

On,  Mr.  Venus,  on  ! ’ 

t 

Never  say  die,  sir!  A man  of  3^our  mark!” 

" It’s  not  so  much  saying  it  that  I object  to,”  returned 
Mr.  Venus,  "as  doing  it.  And  having  got  to  do  it 
whether  or  no,  I can’t  afford  to  waste  my  time  on  grop- 
ing for  nothing  in  cinders.” 

"But  think  how  little  time  you  have  given  to  the 
move,  sir,  after  all,”  urged  Wegg.  "Add  the  even- 
ings so  occupied  together,  and  what  do  they  come  to  ? 
And  you,  sir,  harmoniser  with  myself  in  opinions, 
views,  and  feelings,  you  with  the  patience  to  fit  together 
on  wires  the  whole  framework  of  society — I allude  to 
the  human  skelinton — you  to  give  in  so  soon!” 

"I  don’t  like  it,”  returned  Mr.  Venus  moodily,  as  he 
put  his  head  between  his  knees  and  stuck  up  his  dusty 
hair.  "And  there’s  no  encouragement  to  go  on.” 

" Not  them  Mounds  without,”  said  Mr.  Wegg,  extend- 
ing his  right  hand  with  an  air  of  solemn  reasoning, 


64 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


encouragement?  Not  them  Mounds  now  looking 
down  upon  us?’' 

''They’re  too  big,”  grumbled  Venus.  "What’s  a 
scratch  here  and  a scrape  there,  a poke  in  this  place 
and  a dig  in  the  other,  to  them?  Besides  ; what  have 
we  found?’ 

" What  have  we  found?”  cried  Wegg,  delighted  to  be 
able  to  acquiesce.  "Ah!  There  I grant  you,  comrade. 
Nothing.  But  on  the  contrary,  comrade,  what  ma|/ we 
find  ? There  you’ll  grant  me.  Anything.” 

"I  don’t  like  it,”  pettishly  returned  Venus  as  before. 
" I came  into  it  without  enough  consideration.  And 
besides  again.  Isn’t  your  own  Mr.  Boffin  well  acquainted 
with  the  Mounds?  And  wasn’t  he  well  acquainted  with 
the  deceased  and  his  ways  ? And  has  he  ever  showed 
any  expectation  of  finding  anything  ? ” 

At  that  moment  wheels  were  heard. 

"Now,  I should  be  loth,”  said  Mr.  Wegg,  wuth  an  air 
of  patient  injury,  "to  think  so  ill  of  him  as  to  suppose 
him  capable  of  coming  at  this  time  of  night.  And  yet 
it  sounds  like  him.” 

A ring  at  the  yard  bell. 

"It  is  him,”  said  Mr.  Wegg,  "and  he  is  capable  of  it. 
I am  sorry,  because  I could  have  wished  to  keep  up  a 
little  lingering  fragment  of  respect  for  him.” 

Here  Mr.  Boffin  was  heard  lustily  calling  at  the  yard 
gate,  " Halloa  ! Wegg  ! Halloa  ! ” 

"Keep  your  seat,  Mr.  Venus,”  said  Wegg.  "He  may 
not  stop.”  And  then  called  out,  " Halloa,  sir  ! Halloa! 
I’m  with  you  directly,  sir  ! Half  a minute,  Mr.  Boffin. 
Coming,  sir,  as  fast  as  my  leg  will  bring  me  ! ” And  so 
with  a show  of  much  cheerful  alacrity  stumped  out  to 
the  gate  with  a light,  and  there,  through  the  window 
of  a cab,  descried  Mr.  Boffin  inside,  blocked  up  with 
books. 

" Here!  lend  a hand,  Wegg,”  said  Mr.  Boffin  excitedly, 
" I can’t  get  out  till  the  way  is  cleared  for  me.  This  is 
the  Annual  Register,  Wegg,  in  a cab-full  of  wollumes. 
Do  you  know  him  ?” 

" Know  the  Animal  Register,  sir  ?”  returned  the  Im- 
postor, who  had  caught  the  name  imperfectly.  " For  a 
trifling  wager,  I think  I could  find  any  Animal  in  him, 
blindfold,  Mr.  Boffin.” 

"And  here’s  Kirby’s  Wonderful  Museum/’  said  Mr. 


IN  WORSE  COMPANY/ 


65 


Boffin,  and  Caulfield’s  Characters,  and  Wilson’s. 
Such  Characters.  Wegg,  such  Characters!  I must  have 
one  or  two  of  the  best  of  ’em  to-night.  It’s  amazing 
what  places  they  used  to  put  the  guineas  in,  wrapped 
up  in  rags.  Catch  hold  of  that  pile  of  wollumes,  Wegg, 
or  it’ll  bulge  out  and  burst  into  the  mud.  Is  there  any- 
one about,  to  help  ? ” 

''  There’s  a friend  of  mine,  sir,  that  had  the  intention 
of  spending  the  evening  with  me  when  I gave  you  up — 
much  against  my  will — for  the  night.” 

''Call  him  out,”  cried  Mr.  Boffin  in  a bustle;  "get 
him  to  bear  a hand.  Don’t  drop  that  one  under  your 
arm.  It’s  Dancer.  Him  and  his  sister  made  pies  of  a 
dead  sheep  they  found  when  they  were  out  a walking. 
Where’s  your  friend  ? Oh,  here’s  your  friend.  Would 
you  be  so  good  as  help  Wegg  and  myself  with  these 
books  ? But  don’t  take  Jemmy  Ta^ylor  of  Southwark, 
nor  yet  Jemmy  Wood  of  Gloucester.  These  are  the 
Jemmys.  I’ll  carry  them  myself.” 

Not  ceasing  to  talk  and  bustle,  in  a state  of  great 
excitement,  Mr.  Boffin  directed  the  removal  and  ar- 
rangement of  the  books,  appearing  to  be  in  some  sort 
beside  himself  until  they  were  all  deposited  on  the 
floor,  and  the  cab  was  dismissed. 

"There!”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  gloating  over  them. 
" There  they  are,  like  the  four-and-twenty  fiddlers — 
all  of  a row.  Get  on  your  spectacles,  Wegg;  I know 
where  to  find  the  best  of  ’em,  and  we’ll  have  a taste 
at  once  of  what  we  have  got  before  us.  What’s  your 
friend’s  name  ? ” 

Mr.  Wegg  presented  his  friend  as  Mr.  Venus. 

"Eh?”  cried  Mr.  Boffin,  catching  at  the  name.  " Of 
Clerkenwell?” 

" Of  Clerkenwell,  sir,”  said  Mr.  Venus. 

" Why,  I’ve  heard  of  you,”  cried  Mr.  Boffin.  " I 
heard  of  you  in  the  old  man’s  time.  You  knew  him. 
Did  you  ever  buy  anything  of  him?”  With  piercing 
eagerness. 

" No,  sir,”  returned  Venus. 

" But  he  showed  you  things;  didn’t  he?  ” 

Mr.  Venus,  with  a glance  at  his  friend,  replied  in  the 
affirmative. 

"What  did  he  show  you?”  asked  Mr.  Boffin,  putting 
his  hands  behind  him,  and  eagerly  advancing  his  head. 

VOL,  II.  5 


66 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Did  he  show  you  boxes^  little  cabinets,  pocket  books, 
parcels, anything  locked  or  sealed,  anything  tied  up?'’ 

Mr.  Venus  shook  his  head. 

Are  you  a judge  of  china?” 

Mr.  Venus  again  shook  his  head. 

Because,  if  he  had  ever  showed  you  a teapot,  I should 
be  glad  to  know  of  it,”  said  Mr.  Boffin.  And  then, with 
his  right  hand  at  his  lips,  repeated  thoughtfully,  ''a 
Teapot,  a Teapot,”  and  glanced  over  the  books  on  the 
floor,  as  if  he  knew  there  was  something  interesting 
connected  with  a teapot  somewhere  among  them. 

Mr.  Wegg  and  Mr.  Venus  looked  at  one  another 
wonderingly:  and  Mr.  Wegg,  in  fitting  on  his  specta- 
cles, opened  his  eyes  wide  over  their  rims,  and  tapped 
the  side  of  his  nose:  as  an  admonition  to  Venus  to  keep 
himself  generally  wide  awake. 

‘‘A  Teapot,”  repeated  Mr.  Boffln,  continuing  to  muse 
and  survey  the  books;  a Teapot,  a Teapot.  Are  you 
ready,  Wegg?” 

^‘1  am  at  your  service,  sir,”  replied  that  gentleman, 
taking  his  usual  seat  on  the  usual  settle,  and  poking  his 
wooden  leg  under  the  table  before  it.  ^^Mr.  Venus, 
would  you  make  yourself  useful,  and  take  a seat  beside 
me,  sir,  for  the  conveniency  of  snuffing  the  candles?” 

Venus  complying  with  the  invitation  while  it  was  yet 
being  given,  Silas  pegged  at  himVith  his  wooden  leg, 
to  call  his  particular  attention  to  Mr.  Boffin  standing 
musing  before  the  Are,  in  the  space  between  the  two 
settles. 

^^Hem!  Ahem!”  coughed  Mr.  Wegg,  to  attract  his 
employer’s  attention.  Would  you  wish  to  commence 
with  an  Animal,  sir — from  the  Register  ? ” 

''No,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  "no,  Wegg.”  With  that,  pro- 
ducing a little  book  from  his  breast-pocket,  he  handed 
it  with  great  care  to  the  literary  gentlemen,  and  in- 
quired, " What  do  you  call  that,  Wegg?” 

"This,  sir,”  replied  Silas,  adjusting  his  spectacles, 
and  referring  to  the  title-page,  "is  Merry  weather’s 
Lives  and  Anecdotes  of  Misers.  Mr.  Venus,  would  you 
make  yourself  useful  and  draw  the  candles  a little 
nearer,  sir  ? ” This  to  have  a special  opportunity  of  be- 
stowing a stare  upon  his  comrade. 

" Which  of  ’em  have  you  got  in  that  lot  ?”  asked  Mr. 
Boffin.  " Can  you  And  out  pretty  easy  ?” 


IN  WORSE  COMPANY. 


G7 

Well,  sir/’  replied  Silas,  turning  to  the  table  of  con- 
tents and  slowly  fluttering  the  leaves  of  the  book, 
should  say  they  must  be  pretty  well  all  here,  sir  ; here’s 
a large  assortment,  sir  ; my  eye  catches  John  Overs,  sir, 
John  Little,  sir,  Dick  Jarrel,  John  Elwes,  the  Reverend 
Mr.  Jones  of  Blewbury,  Vulture  Hopkins,  Daniel 
Dancer ” 

^^Give  us  Dancer,  Wegg,”  said  Mr.  Boffin. 

With  another  stare  at  his  comrades,  Silas  sought  and 
found  the  place. 

‘^Page  a hundred  and  nine,  Mr.  Boffin.  Chapter 
eight.  Contents  of  chapter.  ^ His  birth  and  estate. 
His  garments  and  outward  appearance.  Miss  Dancer 
and  her  feminine  graces.  The  Miser’s  Mansion.  The 
flnding  of  a treasure.  The  Story  of  the  Mutton  Pies. 
A Miser’s  Idea  of  Death.  Bob,  the  Miser’s  cur.  Grif- 
fiths and  his  Master.  How  to  turn  a penny.  A substi- 
tute for  a Fire.  The  Advantages  of  keeping  a Snuff- 
box. The  Miser  dies  without  a Shirt.  The  Treasures 
of  a Dunghill ’ ” 

Eh  ? What’s  that  ? ” demanded  Mr.  Boffin. 

^ The  Treasures,’  sir,”  repeated  Silas,  reading  very 
distinctly  ‘of  a Dunghill.’  Mr.  Venus,  sir,  would  you 
obleege  with  the  snuffers?”  This,  to  secure  attention 
to  his  adding  with  his  lips  only,  “ Mounds  !” 

Mr.  Boffin  drew  an  arm-chair  into  the  space  where 
he  stood,  and  said,  seating  himself  and  slyly  rubbing 
his  hands  : 

“ Give  us  Dancer.” 

Mr.  W egg  pursued  the  biography  of  that  eminent  man 
through  its  various  phases  of  avarice  and  dirt,  through 
Miss  Dancer’s  death  on  a sick  regimen  of  cold  dumpling, 
and  through  Mr.  Dancers  keeping  his  rags  together 
with  a hayband,  and  warming  his  dinner  by  sitting 
upon  it,  down  to  the  consolatory  incident  of  his  dying 
naked  in  a sack.  After  which  "he  read  on  as  follows: 

“ ‘ The  house,  or  rather  the  heap  of  ruins,  in  which  Mr. 
Dancer  lived,  and  which  at  his  death  devolved  to  the 
right  of  Captain  Holmes,  was  a most  miserable,  decayed 
building,  for  it  had  not  been  repaired  for  more  than  half 
a century.’” 

(Here  Mr.  Wegg  eyed  his  comrade  and  the  room  in 
which  they  sat:  which  had  not  been  repaired  for  a long 
time.) 


08 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


'But,  though  poor  in  external  structure,  the  ruinous 
fabric  was  very  rich  in  the  interior.  It  took  many  weeks 
to  explore  its  whole  contents;  and  Captain  Holmes  found 
it  a very  agreeable  task  to  dive  into  the  miser's  secret 
hoards.'" 

(Here  Mr.  Wegg  repeated  ' secret  hoards,'  and  pegged 
his  comrade  again.) 

"'One  of  Mr.  Dancer's  richest  escritoirs  was  found 
to  be  a dungheap  in  the  cow-house;  a sum  but  little 
short  of  two  thousand  five  hundred  pounds  was  con- 
tained in  this  rich  piece  of  manure;  and  in  an  old 
jacket,  carefully  tied,  and  strongly  nailed  down  to  the 
manger,  in  bank  notes  and  gold,  were  found  five  hun- 
dred pounds  more.' " 

(Here  Mr.  Wegg's  wooden  leg  started  forward  under 
the  table,  and  slowly  elevated  itself  as  he  read  on.) 

" ' Several  bowls  were  discovered  filled  with  guineas 
and  half-guineas;  and  at  different  times  on  searching 
the  corners  of  the  house  they  found  various  parcels  of 
bank  notes.  Some  were  crammed  into  the  crevices  of 
the  wall; ' " 

(Here  Mr.  Venus  looked  at  the  wall.) 

" ' Bundles  were  hid  under  the  cushions  and  covers  of 
the  chairs  ; ' " 

(Here  Mr.  Venus  looked  under  himself  on  the  settle.) 

"'Some  were  reposing  snugly  at  the  back  of  the 
drawers  ; and  notes  amounting  to  six  hundred  pounds 
were  found  neatly  doubled  up  in  the  inside  of  an  old  tea- 
pot. In  the  stable  the  Captain  found  jugs  full  of  old 
dollars  and  shillings.  The  chimney  was  not  left  un- 
searched, and  paid  very  well  for  the  trouble;  for  in 
nineteen  different  holes,  all  filled  with  soot,  were  found 
various  sums  of  money,  amounting  together  to  more 
than  two  hundred  pounds.'  " i 

On  the  way  to  this  crisis'  Mr.  Wegg's  wooden  leg  had ; 
gradually  elevated  itself  more  and  more,  and  he  had  j 
nudged  Mr.  Venus  with  his  opposite  elbow  deeper  and 
deeper,  until  at  length  the  preservation  of  his  balance  j 
became  incompatible  with  the  two  actions,  and  he  now ! 
dropped  over  sideways  upon  that  gentleman,  squeezing! 
him  against  the  settle's  edge.  Nor  did  either  of  the| 
two,  for  some  few  seconds,  make  any  effort  to  recover, 
himself;  both  remaining  in  a kind  of  pecuniary  swoon.: 

But  the  sight  of  Mr.  Boffin  sitting  in  the  arm-chair^: 


IN  WORSE  COMRANY. 


GO 


hugging  himself,  with  his  eyes  upon  the  fire,  acted  as  a 
restorative.  Counterfeiting  a sneeze  to  cover  their 
movements,  Mr.  Wegg,  with  a spasmodic  ‘^Tish-ho!’^ 
pulled  himself  and  Mr.  Venus  up  in  a masterly  manner. 

Let's  have  some  more,’*  said  Mr.  Boffin  hungrily. 

John  Elwes  is  the  next,  sir.  Is  it  your  pleasure  to 
take  John  Elwes  ?” 

''Ah!’’  said  Mr.  Boffin.  "Let’s  hear  what  John 
did.” 

He  did  not  appear  to  have  hidden  anything,  so  went 
off  rather  ffatly.  But  an  exemplary  lady  named  Wil- 
cox, who  had  stowed  away  gold  and  silver  in  a pickle- 
pot  in  a clock-case,  a canister  full  of  treasure  in  a hole 
under  her  stairs,  and  a quantity  of  money  in  an  old  rat- 
trap,  revived  the  interest.  To  her  succeeded  another 
lady,  claiming  to  be  a pauper,  whose  wealth  was  found 
wrapped  up  in  little  scraps  of  paper  and  old  rag.  To 
her,  another  lady,  apple-woman  by  trade,  who  had 
saved  a fortune  of  ten  thousand  pounds  and  hidden 
it  " here  and  there,  in  cracks  and  corners,  behind  bricks 
and  under  the  ff coring.”  To  her,  a French  gentleman, 
who  had  crammed  up  his  chimney,  rather  to  the  detri- 
ment of  its  drawing  powers,  " a leather  valise,  contain- 
ing twenty-thousand  francs,  gold  coins,  and  a large 
quantity  of  precious  stones,”  as  discovered  by  a chim- 
ney-sweep after  his  death.  By  these  steps  Mr.  Wegg 
arrived  at  a concluding  instance  of  the  human  Magpie: 

" ' Many  years  ago,  there  lived  at  Cambridge  a miserly 
old  couple  of  the  name  of  Jardine:  they  had  two  sons: 
the  father  was  a perfect  miser,  and  at  his  death  one 
thousand  guineas  were  discovered  secreted  in  his  bed. 
The  two  sons  grew  up  as  parsimonious  as  their  sire. 
When  about  twenty  years  of  age,  they  commenced 
business  at  Cambridge  as  drapers,  and  they  continued 
there  until  their  death.  The  establishment  of  the  Messrs. 
Jardine  was  the  most  dirty  of  all  the  shops  in  Cam- 
bridge. Customers  seldom  went  in  to  purchase,  except 
perhaps  out  of  curiosity.  The  brothers  were  most  dis- 
reputable-looking beings ; for,  although  surrounded 
with  gay  apparel  as  their  staple  in  trade,  they  wore  the 
most  filthy  rags  themselves.  It  is  said  that  they  ha.d  no 
bed,  and,  to  save  the  expense  of  one,  always  slept  on  a 
bundle  of  packing-cloths  under  the  counter.  In  their 
housekeeping  they  were  penurious  in  the  extreme.  A 


70 


OUK  MUTUAL  LKiEND. 


ioint  of  meat  did  not  grace  tlieir  board  for  twenty 
years  Yet  when  the  first  of  the  brothers  died,  the 
other,  much  to  his  surprise,  found  large  sums  of  money 
which  had  been  secreted  even  from  him.’” 

“ There!  ” cried  Mr.  Boffin,  “ even  from  him,  you  see! 
There  was  only  two  of  ’em,  and  yet  one  of  ’em  hid  from 

the  other.”  , . ^ i, 

Mr.  Venus,  who,  since  his  introduction  to  the  .b  rench 
gentleman,  had  been  stooping  to  peer  up  the  chimney, 
had  his  attention  recalled  by  the  last  sentence,  and  took 
the  liberty  of  repeating  if-  ^ ^ ^ . ... 

“ Do  you  like  it?”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  turning  suddenly. 

“ I beg  your  pardon,  sir?” 

“ Do  you  like  what  Wegg’s  been  a reading?” 

Mr.  Venus  answered  that  he  found  it  extremely  inter- 
0st»iii2r 

“ Then  come  again,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  “and  hear  some 
more.  Come  when  you  like;  come  the  day  after  to- 
morrow, half  an  hour  sooner.  There’s  plenty  more; 

there’s  no  end  to  it.”  , , j 

Mr.  Venus  expressed  his  acknowledgments,  and  ac- 
cepted the  invitation. 

“ It’s  wonderful  what’s  been  hid,  at  one  time  or  an- 
other,” said  Mr.  Boffin,  ruminating;  “ truly  wonderful.” 

“Meaning,  sir,”  observed  Wegg,  with  a propitiatory 
face  to  draw  him  out,  and  with  another  peg  at  his  friend  i 
and  brother,  “in  the  way  of  money.” 

“ Money,”  said  Mr.  Boffin.  “Ah!  And  papers. 

Mr.  Wegg,  in  a languid  transport,  again  dropped  over 
on  Mr.  Venus,  and  again  recovering  himself,  masked; 
his  emotions  with  a sneeze.  _ 

“ Tish-ho!  Did  you  say  papers  too,  sir?  Been  hidden. 


sir  ^ 

‘■‘Hidden  and  forgot,”  said  Mr.  Boffin.”  “Why  thei 
bookseller  that  sold  me  the  Wonderful  Museum— where  s 
the  Wonderful  Museum?”  He  was  on  his  knees  on  the 
floor  in  a moment,  groping  eagerly  among  the  books,  a 

“Can  I assist  you,  sir?”  asked  Wegg.  , ^ 

“No  I have  got  it;  here  it  is,  said  Mr.  Boffin,  dusting 
it  with  the  sleeve  of  his  coat.  “ Wollume  four.  I know,' 
it  was  the  fourth  wollume  that  the  bookseller  read  it  to 
me  out  of.  Look  for  it,  Wegg.” 

Silas  took  the  book  and  turned  the  leaves. 

“Remarkable  petrifaction,  sir?” 


m WORSE  COMPANY. 


71 


“ No,  that’s  not  it,”  said  Mr.  Boffin.  “ It  can’t  have 
been  a petrifaction.” 

“ Memoirs  of  General  John  Reid,  commonly  called 
The  Walking  Rushlight,  sir?  With  portrait  ?” 

“ No,  nor  yet  him,”  said  Mr.  Boffin. 

“Remarkable  case  of  a person  who  swallowed  a 
crown-piece,  sir?” 

“To  hide  it  ?”  asked  Mr.  Boffin. 

“Why,  no  sir,”  replied  Wegg,  consulting  the  text 
“ it  appears  to  have  been  done  by  accident.  Oh!  This 
next  must  be  it.  ‘Singular  discovery  of  a will  lost 
twenty-one  years.’” 

“ That’s  it!  ” cried  Mr.  Boffin.  “ Read  that.” 

“ ‘A  most  extraordinary  case,”  read  Silas  Wegg  aloud, 
“was  tried  at  the  last  Maryborough  assizes  in  Ire- 
land. It  was  briefly  thks.  Robert  Baldwin,  in  March 
1782,  made  his  will,  in  which  he  devised  the  lands  now 
in  question  to  the  children  of  his  youngest  son;  soon 
after  which  his  faculties  failed  him,  and  he  became  al- 
together childish  and  died,  above  eighty  years  old. 
The  defendant,  the  eldest  son,  immediately  afterwards 
gave  out  that  his  father  had  destroyed  the  will;  and 
no  will  being  found,  he  entered  into  the  possession  of 
the  lands  in  question,  and  so  matters  remained  for 
twenty-one  years,  the.  whole  family  during  all  that 
hme  believing  that  the  father  had  died  without  a will. 
But  after  twenty-one  years  the  defendant’s  wife  died, 
and  he  very  soon  afterwards,  at  the  age  of  seventy- 
eight,  married  a very  young  woman,  which  caused 
some  anxiety  to  his  two  sons,  whose  poignant  expres- 
sions of  this  feeling  so  exasperated  their  father,  that  he 
in  his  resentment  executed  a will  to  disinherit  his  eld- 
est son,  and  in  his  fit  of  anger  showed  it  to  his  second 
son,  who  instantly  determined  to  get  at  it,  and  destroy 
order  to  preserve  the  property  to  his  brother. 
With  this  view  he  broke  open  his  father’s  desk,  where 
le  found — not  his  father’s  will  which  he  sought  after, 
)ut  the  will  of  his  grandfather,  which  was  then  al- 
together forgotten  in  the  family.”’ 

There!”  said  Mr.  Boffin.  “See  what  men  put  away 
iriean  to  destroy,  and  don’t!”  He  then 
idded  m a slow  tone,  “ As— ton— ish— ing!”  And  as 
le  rolled  his  eyes  all  round  the  room,  Wegg  and 
venus  likewise  rolled  their  eyes  all  round  the  room. 


72 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


And  then  Wegg,  singly,  fixed  his  eyes  on  Mr.  Boffin  j 
looking  at  the  fire  again;  as  if  he  had  a mind  to  spring  j 
upon  him  and  demand  his  thoughts  or  his  life.  i 

However,  time’s  up  for  to-night,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  j 
waving  his  hand  after  a silence.  “ More  the  day  after  | 
to-morrow.  Range  the  books  upon  the  shelves,  Wegg.  | 
I dare  say  Mr.  Venus  will  be  so  kind  as  to  help  you.” 

While  speaking,  he  thrust  his  hand  into  the  breast  of 
his  outer  coat,  and  struggled  with  some  object  there 
that  was  too  large  to  be  got  out  easily.  What  was  the 
stupefaction  of  the  friendly  movers  when  this  object  at 
last  emerging,  proved  to  be  a much  dilapidated  dark 
lantern ! 

Without  at  all  noticing  the  effect  produced  by  this  lit- 
tle instrument,  Mr.  Boffin  stood  it  on  his  knee,  and, 
producing  a box  of  matches,  deliberately  lighted  the 
candle  in  the  lantern,  blew  out  the  kindled  match,  and 
cast  the  end  into  the  fire.  “ I’m  going,  Wegg,”  he  then 
announced,  “ to  take  a turn  about  the  place  and  round  i 
the  yard.  I don’t  want  you.  Me  and  this  same  lantern  ^ 
have  taken  hundreds — thousands  of  such  turns  in  our  ; 
time  together.” 

“But  I couldn’t  think,  sir — not  on  any  account  I , 
couldn’t,” — Wegg  was  politely  beginning,  when  Mr.  i 
Boffin,  who  had  risen  and  was  going  towards  the  door,  j 
stopped : I 

“ I have  told  you  that  I don’t  want  you,  Wegg.”  1 

Wegg  looked  intelligently  thoughtful,  as  if  that  had  i 
not  occurred  to  his  mind  until  he  now  brought  it  to  bear  i 
on  the  circumstance.  He  had  nothing  for  it  but  to  let  j 
Mr.  Boffin  go  out  and  shut  the  door  behind  him.  But,  ; 
the  instant  he  was  on  the  other  side  of  it,  Wegg  clutched  ■ 
Venus  with  both  hands,  and  said  in  a choking  whisper, 
as  if  he  were  being  strangled: 

“Mr.  Venus,  he  must  be  followed,  he  must  be  watched, 
he  mustn’t  be  lost  sight  of  for  a moment.” 

“ Why  mustn’t  he?”  asked  Venus,  also  strangling. 

“Comrade,  you  might  have  noticed  I was  a little 
elewated  in  spirits  when  you  come  in  to-night.  I’ve 
found  something.” 

“What  have  you  found?”  asked  Venus,  clutching 
him  with  both  hands,  so  that  they  stood  interlocked  like 
a couple  of  preposterous  gladiators. 

“ There’s  no  time  to  tell  you  now.  I think  he  must 


IN  WORSE  COMPANY. 


have  gone  to  look  for  it.  We  must  have  an  eye  upon 
him  instantly.” 

Releasing  each  other,  they  crept  to  the  door,  opened 
it  softly,  and  peeped  out.  It  was  a cloudy  night,  and 
the  black  shadow  of  the  Mounds  made  the  dark  yard 
darker.  “ If  not  a double  swindler,”  whispered  Wego" 
‘‘why  a dark  lantern  ? We  could  have  seen  what  he 
was  about,  if  he  had  carried  a light  one.  Softly  this 


Cautiously  along  the  path  that  was  bordered  by  frag- 
ments of  crockery  set  in  ashes,  the  two  stole  after  him 
they  could  hear  him  at  his  peculiar  trot,  crushing  the 
loose  cinders  as  he  went.  “He  knows  the  place  by 
heart,  muttered  Silas,  “and  don’t  need  to  turn  his 
lantern  on,  confound  him ! ” But  he  did  turn  it  on 
almost  m that  same  instant,  and  flashed  its  light  upon 
the  first  of  the. Mounds. 

it  TT  spot  ?”  asked  Yenus  in  a whisper. 

‘He  swarm,”  said  Silas  in  the  same  tone.  “He’s 
precious  warm.  He’s  close.  I think  he  must  be  going 
to  look  for  It.  What’s  that  he’s  got  in  his  hand  ?” 

A shovel,  answered  Venus.  “ And  he  knows  how 
to  use  it,  remember,  fifty  times  as  well  as  either  of 

US. 


looks  for  it  and  misses  it,  partner,”  suggested 
Wegg,  “ what  shall  we  do  ?” 

“First  of  all,  wait  till  he  does,”  said  Venus. 

. Discreet  advice,  too,  for  he  darkened  his  lantern 
again,  and  the  Mound  turned  black.  After  a few  seconds 
he  tunied  the  light  on  once  more,  and  was  seen  stand- 
ing  at  the  foot  of  the  second  Mound,  slowly  raising  the 
antern  little  by  little  until  he  held  it  up  at  Irm’s 
length,  as  if  he  were  examining  the  condition  of  the 
whole  surface. 

can’t  be  the  spot,  too  ?”  said  Venus. 

,,  T ’ Wegg,  “he’s  getting  cold.” 

f nie,”  whispered  Venus,  “that  he  wants 

to  nnd  out  whether  any  one  has  been  groping  about 


i’e*«,™ed  Wegg,  “he’s  getting  colder  and 
colder. — Now  he  s freezing  ! ’’ 

exclamation  was  elicited  by  his  having  turned 

again,  and  being  visible 

dt  the  foot  of  the  third  Mound. 


74 


OtJR  MUTUAL  UKiEND. 


“Why,  he’s  going  up  it  !”  said  Venus.  I 

“Shovel  and  all  !”  said  Wegg.  ; 

At  a nimbler  trot,  as  if  the  shovel  oyer  his  shcmlder  | 
stimulated  him  by  reviving  old  associations,  Mr.  Boffin 
ascended  the  “ serpentining  walk,”  up  the  Mound  which  . 
he  had  described  to  Silas  Wegg  on  the  occasion  ot  their  | 
beginning  to  decline  and  fall.  On  striking  into  it  he  | 
turned  his  lantern  off.  The  two  followed  hina,  stooping ; 
low,  so  that  their  figures  might  make  no  mark  in  relief  | 
ao-ainst  the  sky  when  he  should  turn  his  lantern  on  again. ; 
Mr.  Venus  took  the  lead,  towing  Mr.  Wegg,  m order  that  ; 
his  refractory  leg  might  be  promptly  extricated  from  any  j 
pitfalls  it  should  dig  for  itself.  They  could  just  makei 
out  that  the  Golden  Dustman  stopped  to  breathe.  Ot: 
course  they  stopped  too,  instantly. 

“ This  is  his  own  Mound,”  whispered  Wegg  as  he  re-[ 
covered  his  wind,  “ this  one.” 

“ Why  all  three  are  his  own,”  returned  Venus. 

“So  he  thinks  ; but  he’s  used  to  call  this  his  own,| 
because  it’s  the  one  first  left  to  him  ; the  one  wasj 
his  legacy  when  it  was  all  he  took  under  the  will.  i 
“When  he  shows  his  light,”  said  Venus,  keeping: 
watch  upon  his  dusky  figure  all  the  time,  “ drop  lower 

and  keep  closer.”  . ^ . 

He  went  on  again,  and  they  followed  again.  Gaming 
the  top  of  the  Mound,  he  turned  on  his  light— but  only 
partially— and  stood  it  on  the  ground.  A bare  lopsided 
weatherbeaten  pole  was  planted  in  the  ashes  there,  and 
had  been  there  many  a year.  Hard  by  this  pole  his; 
lantern  stood  ; lighting  a few  feet  of  the  lower  part  of 
it  and  a little  of  the  ashy  surface  around  and  then 
casting  off  a purposeless  little  clear  trail  of  light  intcj 

the  air.  ^ i i • 

^^He  can  never  be  going  to  dig  up  the  pole  ! wins- 

pered  Venus  as  they  dropped  low  and  kept  close. 

“ Perhaps  it’s  holler  and  full  of  something,  whis- 
pered Wegg.  , 1 • X £ 1 

He  was  going  to  dig,  with  whatsoever  object,  tor  lie 

tucked  up  his  cuffs  and  spat  on  his  hands,  and  tl^r 
went  at  it  like  an  old  digger  as  he  was.  He  had  no  dej 
sign  upon  the  pole,  except  that  he  measured  a shovel  ? 
length  from  it  before  beginning,  nor  was  it  his  purpose! 
to  dig  deep.  Some  dozen  or  so  of  expert  strokes  sut; 
ficed.  Then  he  stopped,  looked  down  into  the  cavity 


IN  WORSE  COMPANY. 


75 


bent  over  it,  and  took  out  what  appeared  to  be  an  ordi- 
nary case-bottle  ; one  of  those  squat,  high-shouldered, 
short-necked  glass  bottles  which  the  Dutchman  is  said 
to  keep  his  Courage  in.  As  soon  as  he  had  done  this,  he 
turned  off  his  lantern,  and  they  could  hear  that  he  was 
filling  up  the  hole  in  the  dark.  The  ashes  being  easily 
moved  by  a skilful  hand,  the  spies  took  this  as  a hint  to 
make  off  in  good  time.  Accordingly,  Mr.  Venus  slipped 
past  Mr.  Wegg  and  towed  him  down.  But  Mr.  Wegg’s 
descent  was  not  accomplished  without  some  personal 
inconvenience,  for  his  self-willed  leg  sticking  into  the 
ashes  about  half-way  down,  and  time  pressing,  Mr. 
Venus  took  the  liberty  of  hauling  him  from  his  tether 
by  the  collar : which  occasioned  him  to  make  the  rest 
of  the  journey  on  his  back,  with  his  head  enveloped  in 
the  skirts  of  his  coat,  and  his  wooden  leg  coming  last, 
like  a drag.  So  flustered  was  Mr.  Wegg  by  this  mode 
of  travelling,  that  when  he  was  set  on  the  level  ground 
with  his  intellectual  developments  uppermost,  he  was 
quite  unconscious  of  his  bearings,  and  had  not  the  least 
idea  where  his  place  of  residence  was  to  be  found  until 
Mr.  Venus  shoved  him  into  it.  Even  then  he  staggered 
round  and  round,  weakly  staring  about  him,  until  Mr. 
Venus  with  a hard  brush  brushed  his  senses  into  him 
and  the  dust  out  of  him. 

Mr.  Boffin  came  down  leisurely,  for  this  brushing 
process  had  been  well  accomplished,  and  Mr.  Venus  had 
had  time  to  take  his  breath,  before  he  reappeared.  That 
he  had  the  bottle  somewhere  about  him  could  not  be 
doubted  ; where,  was  not  so  clear.  He  wore  a large 
rough  coat,  buttoned  over,  and  it  might  be  in  any  one 
of  half-a-dozen  pockets. 

“ What’s  the  matter,  Wegg  ? ” said  Mr.  BotSn.  “ You 
are  as  pale  as  a candle.”  . 

Mr.  Wegg  replied,  with  literal  exactness,  that  he  felt 
as  if  he  had  had  a turn. 

“ Bile,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  blowing  out  the  light  in  the 
lantern,  shutting  it  up,  and  stowing  it  away  in  the 
breast  of  his  coat  as  before.  “Are  you  subject  to  bile, 
Wegg?” 

Mr.  Wegg  again  replied,  with  strict  adherence  to 
truth,  that  he  didn’t  think  he  had  ever  had  a similar 
sensation  in  his  head,  to  anything  like  the  same  extent. 

“Physic  yourself  to-morrow,  Wegg.”  said  Mr.  Boffin, 


7G 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


‘‘  to  be  in  order  for  next  night.  By-tlie-bye,  this  neigh- 
bourhood is  going  to  have  a loss,  Wegg.” 

“A  loss,  sir?” 

“Going  to  lose  the  Mounds.” 

The  friendly  movers  made  such  an  obvious  effort  ^ot 
to  look  at  one  another,  that  thej^  might  as  well  have 
stared  at  one  another  with  all  their  might. 

“ Have  you  parted  with  them,  Mr.  Boffin  ? ” asked  Silas. 

“ Yes  ; they’re  going.  Mine’s  as  good  as  gone  already.” 

“You  mean  the  little  one  of  the  three,  with  the  pole 


atop,  sir.” 

“ Yes,  said  Mr.  Boffin,  rubbing  his  ear  m his  old  way, 
with  that  new  touch  of  craftiness  added  to  it.  “ It  has 
fetched  a penny.  It’ll  begin  to  be  carted  off  to-morrow.  ” 

“ Have  you  been  out  to  take  leave  of  your  old  friend, 
sir  ?”  asked  Silas,  jocosely. 

“No,”  said  Mr.  Boffin.  “What the  devil  put  that  m 
your  head  ? ” 

He  was  so  sudden  and  rough,  that  Wegg,  who  had 
been  hovering  closer  and  closer  to  his  skirts,  despatch- 
ing the  back  of  his  hand  on  exploring  expeditions  in 
search  of  the  bottle’s  surface,  retired  two  or  three  paces. 

“ No  offence,  sir,”  said  Wegg  humbly.  “ No  offence.” 

Mr.  Boffin  eyed  him  as  a dog  might  eye  another  dog 
who  wanted  his  bone  ; and  actually  retorted  with  a low 
growl,  as  the  dog  might  have  retorted. 

“ Good-night,”  he  said,  after  having  sunk  into  a moody 
silence,  with  his  hands  clasped  behind  him,  and  his  eyes 
suspiciously  ivan dering  about  W egg. ; — “ No  ! stop  there. 
I know  the  way  out,  and  I want  no  light.” 

Avarice,  and  the  evening's  legends  of  avarice,  and 
the  inflammatory  effect  of  what  he  had  seen,  and  per- 
haps the  rush  of  his  ill-conditioned  blood  to  his  brain  in 
his  descent,  'wrought  Silas  Wegg  to  such  a pitch  of  insa- 
tiable appetite,  th^at  when  the  door  closed  he  made  a 
swoop  at  it  and  drew  Venus  along  with  him. 

“ He  mustn’t  go,”  he  cried.  “We  mustn’t  let  him  go  ! 
He  has  got  that  bottle  about  him.  We  must  have  that 
bottle.” 

“ Why,  you  ivouldn’t  take  it  by  force  said  Venus, 
restraining  him.  , . , , 

“ Wouldn’t  I ? Yes,  I would.  I’d  take  it  by  any  force. 
I’d  have  it  at  any  price  ! Are  you  so  afraid  of  one  old 
man  as  to  let  him  go,  you  coward  ? ” 


m WORSE  COMPANY. 


77 


I am  so  afraid  of  you,  as  not  to  let  you  go,”  muttered 
Venus,  sturdily,  clasping  him  in  his  arms. 

''Did  you  hear  him?”  retorted  Wegg.  "Did  you 
hear  him  say  that  he  was  resolved  to  disappoint  us? 
Did  you  hear  him  say,  you  cur,  that  he  was  going  to 
have  the  Mounds  cleared  off,  when  no  doubt  the  whole 
place  will  be  rummaged  ? If  you  haven’t  the  spirit  of  a 
mouse  to  defend  your  rights,  I have.  Let  me  go  after 
him.” 

As  in  his  wildness  he  was  making  a strong  struggle 
for  it,  Mr.  Venus  deemed  it  expedient  to  lift  him,  throw 
him,  and  fall  with  him;  well  knowing  that,  once  down, 
he  would  not  be  up  again  easily  with  his  wooden  leg. 
So  they  both  rolled  on  the  floor,  and,  as  they  did  so,  Mr. 
Boffin  shut  the  gate. 


CHAPTER  VIL 

THE  FRIENDLY  MOVE  TAKES  UP  A STRONG  POSITION. 

The  friendly  movers  sat  upright  on  the  floor,  panting 
and  eyeing  one  another,  after  Mr.  Boffin  had  slam- 
med the  gate  and  gone  away.  In  the  weak  eyes  of 
Venus,  and  in  every  reddish  dust-coloured  hair  in  his 
shock  of  hair,  there  was  a marked  distrust  of  Wegg 
and  an  alertness  to  fly  at  him  on  perceiving  the  smallest 
occasion.  In  the  hard-grained  face  of  Wegg,  and  in  his 
stiff  knotty  figure  (he  looked  like  a German  wooden 
toy),  there  was  expressed  a politic  conciliation  which 
had  no  spontaneity  in  it.  Both  were  flushed,  flustered, 
and  rumpled  by  the  late  scuffle;  and  Wegg,  in  coming 
to  the  ground,  had  received  a humming  knock  on  the 
back  of  his  devoted  head,  which  caused  him  still  to  rub 
it  with  an  air  of  having  been  highly — but  disagreeably 
—astonished.  Each  was  silent  for  some  time,  leaving 
it  to  the  other  to  begin. 

" Brother,”  said  Wegg,  at  length  breaking  the  silence, 
"you  were  right,  and  I was  wrong.  I forgot  myself.” 

Mr.  Venus  knowingly  cocked  his  shock  of  hair,  as 
rather  thinking  Mr.  W egg  had  remembered  himself,  in 
respect  of  appearing  without  any  disguise. 


78 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


comrade,”  pursued  Wegg,  was  never  your 
lot  to  know  Miss  Elizabeth,  Master  George,  Aunt  Jane, 
nor  Uncle  Parker.” 

Mr.  Venus  admitted  that  he  had  never  known  those 
distinguished  persons,  and  added,  in  effect,  that  he  had 
never  so  much  as  desired  the  honour  of  their  ac- 
quaintance. 

Don’t  say  that,  comrade!”  retorted  Wegg.  ^^No, 
don’t  say  that  ! Because,  without  having  known  them, 
you  never  can  fully  know  what  it  is  to  be  stimulated 
to  frenzy  by  the  sight  of  the  Usurper.” 

Offering  those  excusatory  words  as  if  they  reflected 
great  credit  on  himself,  Mr.  Wegg  impelled  himself  with 
his  hands  towards  a chair  in  a corner  of  the  room,  and 
there,  after  a variety  of  awkward  gambols,  attained  a 
perpendicular  position.  Mr.  Venus  also  rose. 

^‘Comrade,”  said  Wegg,  ^Gake  a seat.  Comrade, 
what  a speaking  countenance  i^  yours  I ” 

Mr.  Venus  involuntarily  smoothed  his  countenance, 
and  looked  at  his  hand,  as  if  to  see  whether  any  of  its 
speaking  properties  came  off. 

For  clearly  do  I know,  mark  you,”  pursued  Wegg, 
pointing  his  words  with  his  forefinger,  clearly  do  I 
know  what  question  your  expressive  features  puts  to 
me.” 

What  question  ? ” said  Venus.* 

^^The  question,”  returned  Wegg,  with  a sort  of  joy- 
ful affability,  why  I didn’t  mention  sooner  that  I had 
found  something.  Says  your  speaking  countenance  to 
me : ^ Why  didn’t  you  communicate  that,  when  I first 
come  in  this  evening  ? Why  did  you  keep  it  back  till 
you  thought  Mr.  Boffin  had  come  to  look  for  the  article?’ 
Your  speaking  countenance,”  said  Wegg,  ^^puts  it 
plainer  than  language.  Now,  you  can’t  read  in  my  face 
what  answer  I give  ? ” 

No,  I can’t,”  said  Venus. 

knew  it ! And  why  not  ?”  returned  Wegg  with 
the  same  joyful  candour.  ‘^Because  I lay  no  claims  to 
a speaking  countenance.  Because  I am  well  aware  of 
my  deficiencies.  All  men  are  not  gifted  alike.  But  I 
can  answer  in  words.  And  in  what  words  ? These. 
I wanted  to  give  you  a delightful  sap — pur — ize!  ” 
Having  thus  elongated  and  emphasized  the  word  Sur- 
prise, Mr.  Wegg  shook  his  friend  and  brother  by  both 


A STRONG  POSITION. 


79 


hands,  and  then  clapped  him  on  both  knees,  like  an  af- 
fectionate patron  who  entreated  him  not  to  mention  so 
small  a service  as  that  which  it  had  been  his  happy 
privilege  to  render. 

‘^Your  speaking  countenance,’’  said  Wegg,  being 
answered  to  its  satisfaction,  only  asks  then,  ^ What  have 
you  found  ? ’ Why,  I hear  it  say  the  words  ! ” 

Well  ! ” retorted  Venus  snappishly,  after  waiting  in 
vain.  If  you  hear  it  say  the  words,  why  don’t  you 
answer  it?” 

Hear  me  out!  ” said  Wegg.  I’m  a-going  to.  Hear 
me  out!  Man  and  brother,  partner  in  feelings  equally 
with  undertakings  and  actions,  I have  found  a cash- 
box.” 

Where?” 

— Hear  me  out!”  said  Wegg.  (He  tried  to  reserve 
whatever  he  could,  and,  whenever  disclosure  was 
forced  upon  him,  broke  into  a radiant  gush  of  Hear  me 

out).  On  a certain  day,  sir ” ^ 

When?”  said  Venus  bluntly. 

''N — no,”  returned  Wegg,  shaking  his  head  at  once 
observantly,  thoughtfully,  and  playfully.  ^‘No,  sir! 
That’s  not  your  expressive  countenance  which  asks  that 
question.  That’s  your  voice  ; merely  your  voice.  To 
proceed.  On  a certain  day,  sir,  I happened  to  be  walk- 
ing in  the  yard — taking  my  lomely  round — for  in  the 
words  of  a friend  of  my  own  family,  the  author  of  All’s 
Well  arranged  as  a duett: 

‘ Deserted,  as  you  will  remember,  Mr.  Venus,  by  the  waning  moon, 

When  stars,  it  will  occur  to  you  before  I mention  it,  proclaim  night’s  cheerless 
noon. 

On  tower,  fort  or  tented  ground. 

The  sentry  walks  his  lonely  round. 

The  sentry  walks  ; ’ 

— under  those  circumstances,  sir,  I happened  to  be 
walking  in  the  yard  early  one  afternoon,  and  hap- 
pened to  have  an  iron  rod  in  my  hand,  with  which  I 
have  been  sometimes  accustomed  to  beguile  the  mo- 
notony of  a literary  life,  when  I struck  it  against  an 

object  not  necessary  to  trouble  you  by  naming ” 

It  necessary.  What  object?”  demanded  Venus, 
in  a wrathful  tone. 

— Hear  me  out!”  said  Wegg.  ''  The  Pump. — When  I 
struck  it  against  the  Pump,  and  found,  not  only  that 
the  top  was  loose  and  opened  with  a lid,  but  that  some- 


80 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


thing  ill  it  rattled.  That  something,  comrade,  I dis- 
covered to  be  a small  flat  oblong  cash-box.  Shall  I say 
it  was  disappointingly  light?  ” 

There  were  papers  in  it,”  said  Venus. 

There  your  expressive  countenance  speaks  indeed!  ” 
cried  Wegg.  '‘A  paper.  The  box  v>^as  locked,  tied 
up,  and  sealed,  and  on  the  outside  was  a parchment 
label,  with  the  writing,  ''My  will,  John  Harman, 

TEMPORARILY  DEPOSITED  HERE,.”’ 

"We  must  know  its  contents,”  said  Venus. 

" — Hear  me  out !”  cried  Wegg.  "I  said  so,  and  I 
broke  the  box  open.” 

"Without  coming  to  me!”  exclaimed  Venus. 

"Exactly  so,  sir!”  returned  Wegg,  blandly  and  buoy- 
antly. "I  see  I take  you  with  me!  Hear,  hear,  hear!. 
Resolved,  as  your  discriminating  good  sense  perceives, 
that  if  you  was  to  have  a sap — pur — ize,  it  should  be  a 
complete  one!  Well,  sir,  and  so  as  you  have  honoured  me 
by  anticipating,  I^xamined  the  document.  Regularly 
executed,  regularly  witnessed,  very  short.  Inasmuch 
as  he  has  never  made  friends,  and  has  ever  had  a rebel- 
lious family,  he,  John  Harmon,  gives  to  Nicodemus 
Boffin,  the  Little  Mound,  which  is  quite  enough  for 
him,  and  gives  the  whole  rest  and  residue  of  his  prop- 
erty to  the  Crown.” 

"The  date  of  the  will  that  has  been  proved  must  be 
looked  to,”  remarked  Venus.  "It  may  be  later  than  this 
one.” 

" — Hear  me  out!”  cried  Wegg.  "I  said  so.  I paid 
a shilling  (never  mind  your  sixpence  of  it)  to  look  up 
that  will.  Brother,  that  will  is  dated  months  before  this 
will.  And  now,  as  a fellow-man,  and  as  a partner  in  a 
friendly  move,”  added  Wegg,  benignantly  taking  him 
by  both  hands  again,  and  clapping  him  on  both  knees 
again,  " say,  have  I completed  my  labour  of  love  to  your 
perfect  satisfaction,  and  are  you  sap — pur — ized  ? ” 

Mr.  Venus  contemplated  his  fellow-man  and  partner 
with  doubting  eyes,  and  then  rejoined  stiffly: 

"This  is  great  news  indeed,  Mr.  Wegg.  There’s  no 
denying  it.  But  I could  have  wished  you  had  told  it  me 
before  you  got  your  fright  to-night,  and  I could  have 
wished  you  had  ever  asked  me  as  your  partner  what  we 
were  to  do  before  you  thought  you  were  dividing  a 
responsibility.” 


A STRONG  POSITION. 


81 


— Hear  me  out!’’  cried  Wegg.  ^^I  knew  you  was 
going  to  say  so.  But  alone  I bore  the  anxiety,  and 
alone  I’ll  bear  the  blame ! ” This  with  an  air  of  great 
magnanimity. 

''Now,”  said  Venus.  "Let’s  see  this  will  and  this 
box.” 

"Do  I understand,  brother,”  returned  Wegg  with  con- 
siderable reluctance,  "that  it  is  your  wish  to  see  4his 
will  and  this ?” 

Mr.  Venus  smote  the  table  with  his  hand. 

' ' — Hear  me  out ! ” said  W egg.  ' ' Hear  me  out ! I’ll  go 
and  fetch  ’em.” 

After  being  some  time  absent,  as  if  in  his  covetous- 
ness he  could  hardly  make  up  his  mind  to  produce  the 
treasure  to  his  partner,  he  returned  with  an  old  leathern 
hat-box,  into  which  he  had  put  the  other  box,  for  the 
better  preservation  of  commonplace  appearances,  and 
for  the  disarming  of  suspicion.  " But  I don’t  half  like 
opening  it  here,”  said  Silas  in  a low  voice,  looking 
around:  "he  might  come  back,  he  may  not  be  gone  ; 
we  don’t  know  what  he  may  be  up  to,  after  what 
we’ve  seen.” 

" There’s  something  in  that,”  assented  Venus.  " Come 
to  my  place.” 

Jealous  of  the  custody  of  the  box,  and  yet  fearful  of 
opening  it  under  the  existing  circumstances,  Wegg  hes- 
itated. "Come,  I tell  you,”  repeated  Venus,  chafing, 
" to  my  place.”  Not  very  well  seeing  his  way  to  a re- 
fusal, Mr.  Wegg  then  rejoined  in  a gush,  " Hear  me 
out ! — Certainly.”  So  he  locked  up  the  Bower  and  they 
set  forth  : Mr.  Venus  taking  his  arm,  and  keeping  it 
with  remarkable  tenacity. 

They  found  the  usual  dim  light  burning  in  the  window 
of  Mr.  Venus’s  establishment,  imperfectly  disclosing  to 
the  public  the  usual  pair  of  preserved  frogs,  sword  in 
hand,  with  their  point  of  honour  still  unsettled.  Mr. 
Venus  had  closed  his  shop  door  on  coming  out,  and  now 
opened  it  with  the  key  and  shut  it  again  as  soon  as  they 
were  within  ; but  not  before  he  had  put  up  and  barred 
the  shutters  of  the  shop  window.  "No  one  can  get  in 
without  being  let  in,”  said  he  then,  "and  we  couldn’t 
be  more  snug  than  here.”  So  he  raked  together  the  yet 
warm  cinders  in  the  rusty  grate,  and  made  a fire,  and 
trimmed  the  candle  on  the  little  counter.  As  the  fire 

VOL.  II.  6 


82 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


cast  its  flickering  gleams  here  and  there  upon  the  dark 
greasy  walls,  the  Hindoo  baby,  the  African  baby,  the 
articulated  English  baby,  the  assortment  of  skulls,  and 
the  rest  of  the  collection,  came  starting  to  their  various 
stations  as  if  they  had  all  been  out,  like  their  master, 
and  were  punctual  in  a general  rendezvous  to  assist  at 
the  secret.  The  French  gentleman  had  grown  consider- 
ablf^  since  Mr.  Wegg  last  saw  him,  being  now  accom- 
modated with  a pair  of  legs  and  a head,  though  his 
arms  were  yet  in  abeyance.  To  whomsoever  the  head 
had  originally  belonged,  Silas  Wegg  would  have  re- 
garded it  as  a personal  favour  if  he  had  not  cut  quite 
so  many  teeth. 

Silas  took  his  seat  in  silence  on  the  wooden  box  be- 
fore the  fire,  and  Venus,  dropping  into  his  low  chair, 
produced  from  among  his  skeleton  hands,  his  tea-tray 
and  tea-cups,  and  put  the  kettle  on.  Silas  inwardly 
approved  of  these  preparations,  trusting  they  might  end 
in  Mr.  Venus’s  diluting  his  intellect. 

Now,  sir,”  said  Venus,  all  is  safe  and  quiet.  Let  us 
see  this  discovery.” 

With  still  reluctant  hands,  and  not  without  several 
glances  towards  the  skeleton  hands,  as  if  he  mistrusted 
that  a couple  of  them  might  spring  forth  and  clutch  the 
document,  Wegg  opened  the  hat-box  and  revealed  the 
cash-box,  opened  the  cash-box  and  revealed  the  will. 
He  held  a corner  of  it  tight,  while  Venus,  taking  hold 
of  another  corner,  searchingly  and  attentively  read  it. 

Was  I correct  in  my  account  of  it,  partner?”  said 
Mr.  Wegg  at  length. 

Partner,  you  were,”  said  Mr.  Venus. 

Mr.  Wegg  thereupon  made  an  easy  graceful  move- 
ment, as  though  he  would  fold  it  up;  but  Mr.  Venus 
held  on  by  his  corner. 

No,  sir,”  said  Mr.  Venus,  winking  his  weak  eyes 
and  shaking  his  head.  '^^No,  partner.  The  question  is 
now  brought  up,  who  is  going  to  take  care  of  this.  Do 
you  know  who  is  going  to  take  care  of  this,  partner?” 
am,”  said  Wegg. 

''Oh  dear  no,  partner!”  retorted  Venus.  "That’s  a 
mistake.  I am.  Now,  look  here,  Mr.  Wegg.  I don’t 
want  to  have  any  words  with  you,  and  still  less  do  I 
want  to  have  any  anatomical  pursuits  with  you.” 

" What  do  you  mean?”  said  Wegg  quickly. 


A STRONG  POSITION. 


83 


I mean,  partner,’’  replied  Venus,  slowly,  ^Ghat  it’s 
hardly  possible  for  a man  to  feel  in  a more  amiable 
state  towards  another  man  than  I do  towards  you  at 
this  present  moment.  But  I am  on  my  own  ground,  I 
am  surrounded  by  the  trophies  of  my  art,  and  my  tools 
is  very  handy.” 

‘‘What  do  you  mean,  Mr.  Venus?”  asked  Wegg 
again. 

am  surrounded,  as  I have  observed,”  said  Mr. 
Venus  placidly,  the  trophies  of  my  art.  They  are 
numerous,  my  stock  of  human  warious  is  large,  the 
shop  is  pretty  well  crammed,  and  I don’t  just  now  want 
any  more  trophies  of  my  art.  But  I like  my  art,  and  I 
know  how  to  exercise  my  art.” 

‘‘No  man  better,”  assented  Mr.  Wegg,  with  a some- 
what staggered  air. 

“There’s  the  Miscellanies  of  several  human  speci- 
mens,” said  Venus,  “ (though  you  mightn’t  think  it)  in 
the  box  on  which  you’re  sitting.  There’s  the  Miscel- 
lanies of  several  human  specimens  in  the  lovely  compo 
one  behind  the  door;  ” with  a nod  towards  the  French 
gentleman.  “ It  still  wants  a pair  of  arms.  I donH  say 
that  I’m  in  any  hurry  for  ’em.” 

“You  must  be  wandering  in  your  mind,  partner,” 
Silas  remonstrated. 

“ You’ll  excuse  me  if  I wander,”  returned  Venus;  “I 
am  sometimes  rather  subject  to  it.  I like  my  art,  and  I 
know  how  to  exercise  my  art,  and  I mean  to  have  the 
keeping  of  this  document.” 

“ But  what  has  that  got  to  do  with  your  art,  partner?  ” 
asked  Wegg,  in  an  insinuating  tone. 

Mr.  Venus  winked  his  chronically-fatigued  eyes  both 
at  once,  and  adjusting  the  kettle  on  the  fire,  remarked 
to  himself,  in  a hollow  voice,  “ She’ll  bile  in  a couple  of 
minutes.” 

Silas  Wegg  glanced  at  the  kettle,  glanced  at  the 
shelves,  glanced  at  the  French  gentleman  behind  the 
door,  and  shrank  a little  as  he  glanced  at  Mr.  Venus 
winking  his  red  eyes,  and  feeling  in  his  waistcoat 
pocket — as  for  a lancet,  say— with  his  unoccupied  hand. 
He  and  Venus  were  necessarily  seated  close  together, 
as  each  held  a corner  of  the  document,  which  was  but 
a common  sheet  of  paper. 

“Partner,”  said  Wegg,  even  more  insinuatingly  than 


84 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


before,  I propose  that  we  cut  it  in  half,  and  each  keep 
a half.’’ 

Venus  shook  his  shock  of  hair,  as  he  replied,  ^'It 
wouldn’t  do  to  mutilate  it,  partner.  It  might  seem  to 
be  cancelled.” 

Partner,”  said  Wegg,  after  a silence,  during  which 
they  had  contemplated  one  another,  don’t  your  speak- 
ing  countenance  say  that  you’re  a-going  to  suggest  a 
middle  course?” 

Venus  shook  his  shock  of  hair  as  he  replied,  ‘^Part- 
ner, you  have  kept  this  paper  from  me  once.  You  shall 
never  keep  it  from  me  again.  I offer  you  the  box  and 
the  label  to  take  care  of,  but  I’ll  take  care  of  the 
paper.” 

Silas  hesitated  a little  longer,  and  then  suddenly  re- 
leasing his  corner,  and  resuming  his  buoyant  and 
benignant  tone,  exclaimed,  '^What’s  life  without  trust- 
fulness? What’s  a fellow-man  without  honour?  You’re 
welcome  to  it,  partner,  in  a spirit  of  trust,  and  confi- 
dence.” 

Continuing  to  wink  his  red  eyes  both  together — but 
in  a self -communing  way,  and  without  any  show  of 
triumph — Mr.  Venus  folded  the  paper  now  left  in  his 
hand,  and  locked  it  in  a drawer  behind  him,  and 
pocketed  the  key.  He  then  proposed  cup  of  tea, 
partner?”  To  which  Mr.  Wegg  returned.  Thankee, 
partner,  ” and  the  tea  was  made  and  poured  out. 

'^Next,”  said  Venus,  blowing  at  his  tea  in  his  saucer, 
and  looking  over  it  at  his  confidential  friend,  comes 
the  question.  What’s  the  course  to  be  pursued  ? ” 

On  this  head,  Silas  Wegg  had  much  to  say.  Silas  had 
to  say.  That  he  would  beg  to  remind  his  comrade, 
brother,  and  partner,  of  the  impressive  passages  they 
had  read  that  evening  ; of  the  evident  parallel  in  Mr. 
Boffin’s  mind  between  them  and  the  late  owner  of  the 
Bower,  and  the  present  circumstances  of  the  Bower  ; of 
the  bottle ; and  of  the  box.  That  the  fortunes  of  his 
brother  and  comrade,  and  of  himself,  were  evidently 
made,  ina.smuch  as  they  had  but  to  put  their  price  upon 
this  document,  and  get  that  price  from  the  minion  of 
fortune  and  the  worm  of  the  hour  : who  now  appeared 
to  be  less  of  a minion  and  more  of  a worm  than  had 
been  previously  supposed.  That  he  considered  it  plain 
that  such  price  was  stateable  in  a single  expressive 


A STRONG  FOSmON. 


85 


wordj  and  that  the  word  was,  Halves  ! ’’  That  the 
question  then  arose  when  '^Halves  should  be  called. 
That  here  he  had  a plan  of  action  to  recommend,  with 
a conditional  clause.  That  the  plan  of  action  was  that 
they  should  lie  by  with  patience  ; that  they  should 
allow  the  Mounds  to  be  gradually  levelled  and  cleared 
away,  while  retaining  to  themselves  their  present  oppor- 
tunity of  watching  the  process — which  would  be,  he 
conceived,  to  put  the  trouble  and  cost  of  daily  digging 
and  delving  upon  somebody  else,  while  they  might 
nightly  turn  such  complete  disturbance  of  the  dust  to 
the  account  of  their  own  private  investigations — and 
that,  when  the  Mounds  were  gone,  and  they  had  worked 
those  chances  for  their  own  joint  benefit  solely,  they 
should  then,  and  not  before,  explode  on  the  minion  and 
worm.  But  here  came  the  conditional  clause,  and  to 
this  he  entreated  the  special  attention  of  his  comrade, 
brother,  and  partner.  It  was  not  to  be  borne  that  the 
minion  and  worm  should  carry  off  any  of  that  prop- 
erty which  was  now  to  be  regarded  as  their  own  prop- 
erty. When  he,  Mr.  Wegg,  had  seen  the  minion  sur- 
reptitiously making  off  with  that  bottle,  and  its  precious 
contents  unknown,  he  had  looked  upon  him  in  the  light 
of  a mere  robber,  and,  as  such,  would  have  despoiled 
him  of  his  ill-gotten  gain,  but  for  the  judicious  inter- 
ference of  his  comrade,  brother,  and  partner.  There- 
fore, the  conditional  clause  he  proposed  was,  that,  if 
the  minion  should  return  in  his  late  sneaking  manner, 
and  if,  being  closely  watched,  he  should  be  found  to 
possess  himself  of  anything,  no  matter  what,  the  sharp 
sword  impending  over  his  head  should  be  instantly 
shown  him,  he  should  be  strictly  examined  as  to  what 
he  knew  or  suspected,  should  be  severely  handled  by 
them  his  masters,  and  should  be  kept  in  a state  of  ab- 
ject moral  bondage  and  slavery  until  the  time  when 
they  should  see  fit  to  permit  him  to  purchase  his  freedom 
at  the  price  of  half  his  possessions.  If,  said  Mr.  Wegg 
by  way  of  peroration,  he  had  erred  in  saying  only 
^‘Halves!”  he  trusted  to  his  comrade,  brother,  and 
partner  not  to  hesitate  to  set  him  right,  and  to  reprove 
his  weakness.  It  might  be  more  according  to  the  rights 
of  things,  to  say  Two-thirds  ; it  might  be  more  accord- 
ing to  the  rights  of  things,  to  say  Three-fourths.  On 
those  points  he  was  ever  open  to  correction. 


86 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Mr.  Venus,  having  wafted  his  attention  4o  this  dis- 
course over  three  successive  saucers  of  tea,  signified 
his  concurrence  in  the  views  advanced.  Inspirited 
hereby,  Mr.  Wegg  extended  his  right  hand,  and  declared 
it  to  be  a hand  which  never  yet.  Without  entering 
into  more  minute  particulars,  Mr.  Venus,  sticking  to 
his  tea,  briefiy  professed  his  belief,  as  polite  forms  re- 
quired of  him,  that  it  ivas  a hand  which  never  yet.  But 
contented  himself  with  looking  at  it,  and  did  not  take 
it  to  his  bosom. 

Brother,”  said  Wegg,  when  this  happy  understand- 
ing was  established,  I should  like  to  ask  you  some- 
thing. You  remember  the  night  when  I first  looked 
in  here,  and  found  you  fioating  your  powerful  mind 
in  tea  ? ” 

Still  swilling  tea,  Mr.  Venus  nodded  assent. 

And  there  you  sit,  sir,”  pursued  Wegg  with  an  air 
of  thoughtful  admiration,  as  if  you  had  never  left  off  ! 
There  you  sit,  sir,  as  if  you  had  an  unlimited  capacity 
of  assimilating  the  fragrant  article  ! There  you  sit,  sir, 
in  the  midst  of  your  works,  looking  as  if  you’d  been 
called  upon  for  Home,  Sweet  Home,  and  was  obleeging 
the  company  ! 

‘ A exile  from  home  splendour  dazzles  in  vain, 

O give  you  your  lowly  Preparations  again. 

The  birds  stuffed  so  sweetly  that  can’t  be  expected  to  come  at  your  call, 

Give  you  these  with  the  peace  of  mind  dearer  than  all. 

Home,  Home,  Home,  sweet  Home  ! ’ 

— Be  it  ever,”  added  Mr.  Wegg  in  prose  as  he  glanced 
about  the  shop,  “ ever  so  ghastly,  all  things  considered 
there’s  no  place  like  it.” 

“You  said  you’d  like  to  ask  something;  but  you 
haven’t  asked  it,”  remarked  Venus,  very  unsympathetic 
in  manner. 

“ Your  peace  of  mind,’’  said  Wegg,  offering  con- 
dolence, “ your  peace  of  mind  was  in  a poor  way  that 
night.  How's  it  going  on  ? Is  it  looking  up  at  all  ? ” 

“She  does  not  wish,”  replied  Mr.  Venus  with  a 
comical  mixture  of  indignant  obstinacy  and  tender  mel- 
ancholy, “ to  regard  herself,  nor  yet  to  be  regarded,  in 
that  particular  light.  There’s  no  more  to  be  said.” 

“ Ah,  dear  me,  dear  me  ! ” exclaimed  Wegg  with  a 
sigh,  but  eyeing  him  while  pretending  to  keej)  him  com- 
pany in  eyeing  the  fire,  “such  is  Woman  ! And  I re- 


A STRONG  POSITION. 


87 


member  you  said  that  night,  sitting  there  as  I sat  here 
— said  that  night,  when  your  peace  of  mind  was  first 
laid  low,  that  you  had  taken  an  interest  in  these  very 
affairs.  Such  is  coincidence  ! ” 

^^Her  father,”  rejoined  Venus,  and  then  stopped  to 
swallow  more  tea,  ^^her  father  was  mixed  up  in  them.” 

^^You  didn’t  mention  her  name,  sir,  I tlfink?”  ob- 
served Wegg,  pensively.  No,  you  didn’t  mention  her 
name  that  night.” 

'^Pleasant  Riderhood.” 

''In — deed!”  cried  Wegg.  "Pleasant  Riderhood. 
There’s  something  moving  in  the  name.  Pleasant. 
Dear  me  1 Seems  to  express  what  she  might  have  been, 
if  she  hadn’t  made  that  unpleasant  remark — and  what 
she  ain’t,  in  consequence  of  having  made  it.  Would  it 
at  all  pour  balm  into  your  wounds,  Mr.  Venus,  to  in- 
quire how  you  came  acquainted  with  her  ? ” 

" I was  down  at  the  water-side,”  said  Venus,  taking 
another  gulp  of  tea  and  mournfully  winking  at  the  fire 
— "looking  for  parrots” — taking  another  gulp  and 
stopping. 

Mr.  Wegg  hinted,  to  jog  his  attention  : "You  could 
hardly  have  been  out  parrot-shooting  in  the  British 
climate,  sir  ?” 

" No,  no,  no,”  said  Venus,  fretfully.  " I was  down  at 
the  water-side,  looking  for  parrots  brought  home  by 
sailors,  to  buy  for  stuffing.” 

"Ay,  ay,  ay,  sir  !” 

" — And  looking  for  a nice  pair  of  rattlesnakes,  to  ar- 
ticulate for  a Museum — when  I was  doomed  to  fall  in 
with  her  and  deal  with  her.  It  was  just  at  the  time  of 
that  discovery  in  the  river.  Her  father  had  seen  the 
discovery  being  towed  in  the  river.  I made  the  popu- 
larity of  the  subject  a reason  for  going  back  to  improve 
the  acquaintance,  and  I have  never  since  been  the  man 
I was.  My  very  bones  is  rendered  flabby  by  brooding 
over  it.  If  they  could  be  brought  to  me  loose,  to  sort,  I 
should  hardly  have  the  face  to  claim  ’em  as  mine.  To 
such  an  extent  have  I fallen  off  under  it.” 

Mr.  Wegg,  less  interested  than  he  had  been,  glanced 
at  one  particular  shelf  in  the  dark. 

" Why,  I remember,  Mr.  Venus,”  he  said  in  a tone  of 
friendly  commiseration,  " (for  I remember  every  word 
that  falls  from  you,  sir,)  I remember  that  you  said  that 


88 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


night  you  had  got  up  there — and  then  your  words,  was 
‘ Never  mind.’’’ 

— The  parrot  that  I bought  of  her,”  said  Venus,  with 
a despondent  rise  and  fall  of  his  eyes.  Yes,  there  it 
lies  on  its  side  dried  up  ; except  for  its  plumage,  very 
like  myself.  I’ve  never  had  the  heart  to  prepare  it,  and 
I never  sh^ll  have  now.” 

With  a disappointed  face,  Silas  mentally  consigned 
this  parrot  to  regions  more  than  tropical,  and,  seeming 
for  the  time  to  have  lost  his  power  of  assuming  an  in- 
terest in  the  woes  of  Mr.  Venus,  fell  to  tightening  his 
wooden  leg  as  a preparation  for  departure  : its  gym- 
nastic performances  of  that  evening  having  severely 
tried  its  constitution. 

After  Silas  had  left  the  shop,  hat-box  in  hand,  and  had 
left  Mr.  Venus  to  lower  himself  to  oblivion-point  with 
the  requisite  weight  of  tea,  it  greatly  preyed  on  his  in- 
genuous mind  that  he  had  taken  this  artist  into  partner- 
ship at  all.  He  bitterly  felt  that  he  had  overreached 
himself  in  the  beginning,  by  grasping  at  Mr.  Venus’s 
mere  straws  of  hints,  now  shown  to  be  worthless  for 
his  purpose.  Casting  about  for  ways  and  means  of  dis- 
solving the  connection  without  loss  of  money,  reproach- 
ing himself  for  having  been  betrayed  into  an  avowal  of 
his  secret,  and  complimenting  himself  beyond  measure 
on  his  purely  accidental  good  luck,  he  beguiled  the  dis- 
tance between  Clerkenwell  and  the  mansion  of  the 
Golden  Dustman. 

For  Silas  Wegg  felt  it  to  be  quite  out  of  the  question 
that  he  could  lay  his  head  upon  his  pillow  in  peace, 
without  first  hovering  over  Mr.  Boffin’s  house  in  the  su- 
perior character  of  its  Evil  Genius.  Power  (unless  it  be 
the  power  of  intellect  or  virtue)  has  ever  the  greatest 
attraction  for  the  lowest  natures  ; and  the  mere  defiance 
of  the  unconscious  house-front,  with  his  power  to  strip 
the  roof  off  the  inhabiting  family  like  the  roof  of  a 
house  of  cards,  was  a treat  which  had  a charm  for  Silas 
Wegg. 

As  he  hovered  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  ex- 
ulting, the  carriage  drove  up. 

''  There’ll  shortly  be  an  end  of  said  Wegg, 

threatening  it  with  the  hat-box.  Fo?ir  varnish  is 
fading.” 

Mrs.  Boffin  descended  and  went  in. 


Our  Mutual  Frieixi. 


A STRONG  POSITION. 


89 


Look  out  for  a fall,  my  Lady  Dustwojnan,’’  said 
Wegg. 

Bella  lightly  descended,  and  ran  in  after  her. 

How  brisk  we  are!’’  said  Wegg.  'Won  won’t  run 
so  gaily  to  your  old  shabby  home,  my  girl.  You’ll  have 
to  go  there,  though.” 

A little  while,  and  the  Secretary  came  out. 

I was  passed  over  for  you,”  said  Wegg.  ''  But  you 
had  better  provide  yourself  with  another  situation, 
young  man.” 

Mr.  Boffin’s  shadow  passed  upon  the  blinds  of  three 
large  windows  as  he  trotted  down  the  room,  and  passed 
again  as  he  went  back. 

‘Woop!”  cried  Wegg.  ^Wou’re  there,  are  you? 
Where’s  the  bottle?  You  would  give  your  bottle  for  my 
box.  Dustman!” 

Having  now  composed  his  mind  for  slumber,  he  turned 
homeward.  Such  was  the  greed  of  the  fellow,  that  his 
mind  had  shot  beyond  halves,  two-thirds,  three-fourths, 
and  gone  straight  to  spoliation  of  the  whole.  Though 
that  wouldn’t  quite  do,”  he  considered,  growing  cooler 
as  he  got  away.  That’s  what  would  happen  to  him 
if  he  didn’t  buy  us  up.  We  should  get  nothing  by 
that.” 

We  so  judge  others  by  ourselves,  that  it  had  never 
come  into  his  head  before  that  he  might  not  buy  us  up, 
and  might  prove  honest,  and  prefer  to  be  poor.  It 
caused  him  a slight  tremor  as  it  passed;  but  a very 
slight  one,  for  the  idle  thought  was  gone  directly. 

He’s  grown  too  fond  of  money  for  that,”  said  Wegg; 

he’s  grown  too  fond  of  money.”  The  burden  fell  into 
a strain  or  tune  as  he  stumped  along  the  pavements. 
All  the  way  home  he  stumped  it  out  of  the  rattling 
streets, 'pmno  with  his  own  foot,  and  forte  with  his 
wooden  leg,  ''He’s  grown  too  fond  of  money  for  that, 
he’s  GROWN  too  FOND  of  MONEY.” 

Even  next  day  Silas  soothed  himself  with  this  melo- 
dious strain,  when  he  was  called  out  of  bed  at  daybreak, 
to  set  open  the  yard-gate,  and  admit  the  train  of  carts 
and  horses  that  came  to  carry  off  the  little  Mound. 
And  all  day  long,  as  he  kept  unwinking  watch  on  the 
slow  process  which  promised  to  protract  itself  through 
many  days  and  weeks,  whenever  ("to  save  himself  from 
being  choked  with  dust)  he  patrolled  a little  cinderous 


90 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


beat  he  established  for  the  purpose,  without  taking  his 
eyes  from  the  diggers,  he  still  stumped  to  the  tune; 

He’s  GROWN  too  FOND  of  MONEY  for  THAT,  he’s  GROWN 
too  FOND  of  MONEY.” 


CHAPTER  YIII. 

THE  END  OF  A LONG  JOURNEY. 

The  train  of  carts  arid  horses  came  and  went  all  day 
from  dawn  to  nightfall,  making  little  or  no  daily 
impression  on  the  heap  of  ashes,  though,  as  the  days 
passed  on,  the  heap  was  seen  to  be  slowly  melting. 
My  lords  and  gentlemen  and  honourable  boards,  when 
you  in  the  course  of  your  dust-shovelling  and  cinder- 
raking  have  piled  up  a mountain  of  pretentious  failure, 
you  piust  off  with  your  honourable  coats  for  the  removal 
of  it,  and  fall  to  the  work  with  the  power  of  all  the 
queen’s  horses  and  all  the  queen’s  men,  or  it  will  come 
rushing  down  and  bury  us  alive. 

Yes,  verily,  my  lords  and  gentlemen  and  honourable 
boards,  adapting  your  Catechism  to  the  occasion,  and 
by  God’s  help  so  you  must.  For  when  we  have  got 
things  to  the  pass  that  with  an  enormous  treasure  at 
disposal  to  relieve  the  poor,  the  best  of  the  poor  detest 
our  mercies,  hide  their  heads  from  us,  and  shame  us 
by  starving  to  death  in  the  midst  of  us,  it  is  a pass  im- 
possible of  prosperity,  impossible  of  continuance.  It 
may  not  be  so  written  in  the  Gospel  according  to  Pod- 
snappery  ; you  may  not  find  these  words  ” for  the  text 
of  a sermon  in  the  Returns  of  tJie  Board  of  Trade  ; but 
they  have  been  the  truth  since  the  foundations  of  the 
universe  were  laid,  and  they  will  be  the  truth  until  the 
foundations  of  the  universe  are  shaken  by  the  Builder. 
This  boastful  handiwork  of  ours,  which  fails  in  its 
terrors  for  the  professional  pauper,  the  sturdy  breaker 
of  windows  and  the  rampant  tearer  of  clothes,  strikes 
with  a cruel  and  wicked  stab  at  the  stricken  sufferer, 
and  is  a horror  to  the  deserving  and  unfortunate.  We 
must  mend  it,  lords  and  gentlemen  and  honourable 
boards,*  or  in  its  evil  hour  it  will  mar  every  one  of  us. 


THE  END  OF  A LONG  JOURNEY.  ' 91 

Old  Betty  Higden  fared  upon  her  pilgrimage  as  many 
ruggedly  honest  creatures,  women  and  men,  fare  on 
their  toiling  way  along  the  roads  of  life.  Patiently  to 
earn  a spare  bare  living,  and  quietly  to  die,  untouched 
by  workhouse  hands — this  was  her  highest  sublunary 
hope. 

Nothing  had  been  heard  of  her  at  Mr.  Boffin’s  house 
since  she  trudged  off.  The  weather  had  been  hard 
and  the  roads  had  been  bad,  and  her  spirit  was  up.  A 
less  staunch  spirit  might  have  been  subdued  by  such 
adverse  influences;  but  the  loan  for  her  little  outfit  was 
in  no  part  repaid,  and  it  had  gone  worse  with  her  than 
she  had  foreseen,  and  she  was  put  upon  proving  her 
case  and  maintaining  her  independence. 

Faithful  soul ! When  she  had  spoken  to  the  Secre- 
tary of  ^^that  deadness  that  steals  over  me  at  times,” 
her  fortitude  had  made  too  little  of  it.  Oftener,  and 
ever  oftener,  it  came  stealing  over  her;  darker,  and  ever 
darker,  like  the  shadow  of  advancing  Death.  That  the 
shadow  should  be  deep  as  it  came  on,  like  the  shadow 
of  an  actual  presence,  was  in  accordance  with  the  laws 
of  the  physical  world,  for  all  the  Light  that  shone  on 
Betty  Higden  lay  beyond  Death. 

The  poor  old  creature  had  taken  the  upward  course  of 
the  river  Thames  as  her  general  track;  it  was  the  track 
in  which  her  last  home  lay,  and  of  which  she  had  last 
had  local  love  and  knowledge.  She  had  hovered  for  a 
little  while  in  the  near  neighbourhood  of  her  abandoned 
dwelling,  and  had  sold,  and  knitted  and  sold,  and  gone 
on.  In  the  pleasant  towns  of  Chertsey,  Walton,  Kings- 
ton, and  Staines,  her  figure  came  to  be  quite  well  known 
for  some  short  weeks,  and  then  again  passed  on. 

She  would  take  her  stand  in  market-places,  where 
there  were  such  things,  on  market  days;  at  other  times, 
in  the  busiest  (that  was  seldom  very  busy)  portion  of 
the  little  quiet  High  Street;  at  still  other  times  she 
would  explore  the  outlying  roads  for  great  houses,  and 
would  ask  leave  at  the  Lodge  to  pass  in  with  her 
basket,  and  would  not  often  get  it.  But  ladies  in  car- 
riages would  frequently  make  purchases  from  her 
trifling  stock,  and  were  usually  pleased  with  her  bright 
eyes  and  her  hopeful  speech.  In  these  and  her  clean 
dress  originated  a fable  that  she  was  well  to  do  in  the 
world:  one  might  say,  for  her  station,  rich.  As  making 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


\)2 

cl  (‘omfortable  provision  for  its  subject  whicli  costs 
nobody  anything,  this  class  of  fable  has  long  been 
popular. 

In  those  pleasant  little  towns  on  Thames  you 
may  hear  the  fall  of  the  water  over  the  weirs,  or 
even,  in  still  weather,  the  rustle  of  the  rushes  ; and  from 
the  bridge  you  may  see  trhe  young  river,  dimpled  like  a 
young  child,  playfully  gliding  away  among  the  trees, 
unpolluted  by  the  defilements  that  lie  in  wait  for  it  on 
its  course,  and  as  yet  out  of  hearing  of  the  deep  sum- 
mons of  the  sea.  It  were  too  much  to  pretend  that 
Betty  Higden  made  out  such  thoughts  ; no ; but  she 
heard  the  tender  river  whispering  to  many  like  herself. 

Come  to  me,  come  to  me  ! When  the  cruel  shame  and 
terror  you  have  so  long  fied  from,  most  beset  you,  come 
to  me  ! I am  the  Relieving  Officer  appointed  by  eternal 
ordinance  to  do  my  work  ; I am  not  held  in  estimation 
according  as  I shirk  it.  My  breast  is  softer  than  the 
pauper-nurse’s ; death  in  my  arms  is  peacefuller  than 
among  the  pauper  wards.  Come  to  me  ! ” 

There  was  abundant  place  for  gentler  fancies,  too,  in 
her  untutored  mind.  Those  gentlefolks  and  their  chil- 
dren inside  those  fine  houses,  could  they  think,  as  they 
looked  out  at, her,  what  it  was  to  be  really  hungry,  really 
cold  ? Did  they  feel  any  of  the  wonder  about  her  that 
she  felt  about  them  ? Bless  the  dear  laughing  children  ! 
If  they  could  have  seen  sick  Johnny  in  her  arms,  would 
they  have  cried  for  pity  ? If  they  could  have  seen  dead 
Johnny  on  that  little  bed,  would  they  have  understood 
if  ? Bless  the  dear  children  for  his  sake,  any  how  ! So 
with  the  humbler  houses  in  the  little  street,  the  inner 
firelight  shining  on  the  panes  as  the  outer  twilight  dark- 
ened. When  the  families  gathered  in-doors  there  for 
the  night,  it  was  only  a foolish  fancy  to  feel  as  if  it  were 
a little  hard  in  them  to  close  the  shutter  and  blacken  the 
flame.  So  with  the  lighted  shops,  and  speculations 
whether  their  masters  and  mistresses  taking  tea  in  a 
perspective  of  back-parlour — not  so  far  within  but  that 
the  flavour  of  tea  and  toast  came  out,  mingled  with  the 
glow  of  light,  into  the  street — ate  or  drank  or  wore  what 
they  sold,  with  the  greater  relish  because  they  dealt  in 
it.  So  with  the  churchyard  on  a branch  of  the  solitary 
way  to  the  night’s  sleeping-place.  Ah  me  ! The  dead 
and  I seem  to  have  it  pretty  much  to  ourselves  in  the 


THE  END  OE  A LONG  JOURNEY.  03 

dark  and  in  this  weather  ! But  so  much  the  better  for 
all  who  are  warmly  housed  at  home.’’  The  poor  soul 
envied  no  one  in  bitterness,  and  grudged  no  one  any- 
thing. 

But  the  old  abhorrence  grew  stronger  on  her  as  she 
grew  weaker,  and  it  found  more  sustaining  food  than 
she  did  in  her  wanderings.  Now  she  would  light  upon 
the  shameful  spectacle  of  some  desolate  creature — or 
some  wretched  ragged  groups  of  either  sex,  or  of  both 
sexes,  with  children  among  them,  huddled  together 
like  the  smaller  vermin  for  a little  warmth — lingering 
and  lingering  on  a doorstep,  while  the  appointed  evader 
of  the  public  trust  did  his  dirty  office  of  trying  to  weary 
them  out,  and  so  get  rid  of  them.  Now  she  would  light 
upon  some  poor  decent  person,  like  herself,  going  afoot 
on  a pilgrimage  of  many  weary  miles  to  some  worn-out 
relative  or  friend  who  had  been  charitably  clutched  off 
to  a great,  blank,  barren  Union  House,  as  far  from  old 
home  as  the  County  Goal  (the  remoteness  of  which  is 
always  its  worst  punishment  for  small  rural  offenders), 
and  in  its  dietary,  and  in  its  lodging,  and  in  its  tending 
of  the  sick,  a much  more  penal  establishment.  Some- 
times she  would  hear  a newspaper  read  out,  and  would 
learn  how  the  Registrar  General  cast  up  the  units  that 
had  within  the  last  week  died  of  want  and  of  exposure 
to  the  weather:  for  which  that  Recording  Angel  seemed 
to  have  a regular  fixed  place  in  his  sum,  as  if  they  were 
its  halfpence.  All  such  things  she  would  hear  dis- 
cussed, as  we,  my  lords  and  gentlemen  and  honourable 
boards,  in  our  unapproachable  magnificence  never  hear 
them,  and  from  all  such  things  she  would  fly  with  the 
wings  of  raging  Despair. 

This  is  not  to  be  received  as  a figure  of  speech.  Old 
Betty  Higden,  however  tired,  however  footsore,  would 
start  up  and  be  driven  away  by  her  awakened  horror  of 
falling  into  the  hands  of  Charity.  It  is  a remarkable 
Christian  improvement  to  have  made  a pursuing  Fury 
of  the  Good  Samaritan;  but  it  was  so  in  this  case,  and 
it  is  a type  of  many,  many,  many. 

Two  incidents  united  to  intensify  the  old  unreasoning 
abhorrence — granted  in  a previous  place  to  be  unreason- 
ing, because  the  people  always  are  unreasoning,  and 
invariably  make  a point  of  producing  all  their  smoke 
without  Are. 


94 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


One  day  she  was  sitting  in  a market-place  on  a bench 
outside  an  inn,  with  her  little  wares  for  sale,  when  the 
deadness  that  she  strove  against  came  over  her  so 
heavily  that  the  scene  departed  from  before  her  eyes; 
when  it  returned,  she  found  herself  on  the  ground,  her 
head  supported  by  some  good-natured  market-woman, 
and  a little  crowd  about  her. 

Are  you  better  now,  mother  ? ” asked  one  of  the 
women.  Do  you  think  you  can  do  nicely  now 
Have  I been  ill,  then  ?’’  asked  old  Betty. 

‘‘You  have  had  a faint  like,”  was  the  answer,  “ or  a 
fit.  It  ain’t  that  you’ve  been  a struggling,  mother,  but 
you’ve  been  stiff  and  numbed.” 

“ Ah  ! ” said  Betty,  recovering  her  memory.  “ It’s  the 
numbness.  Yes.  It  comes  over  me  at  times.” 

Was  it  gone  ? the  women  asked  her. 

“ It’s  gone  now,”  said  Betty.  “ I shall  be  stronger 
than  I was  afore.  Many  thanks  to  ye,  my  dears,  and 
when  you  come  to  be  as  old  as  I am,  may  others  do  as 
much  for  you  ! ” 

They  assisted  her  to  rise,  but  she  could  not  stand  yet, 
and  they  supported  her  when  she  sat  down  again  upon 
the  bench. 

“ My  head’s  a bit  light,  and  my  feet  are  a bit  heavy,” 
said  old  Betty,  leaning'her  face  drowsily  on  the  breast 
of  the  woman  who  had  spoken  before.  “ They 41  both 
come  nat’ral  in  a minute.  There’s  nothing  more  the 
matter.” 

“ Ask  her,”  said  some  farmers  standing  by,  who  had 
come  out  from  their  market  dinner,  “who  belongs  to 
her.” 

“Are  there  any  folks  belonging  to  you,  mother?” 
said  the  woman. 

“Yes,  sure,”  answered  Betty.  “ I heerd  the  gentleman 
say  it,  but  I couldn’t  answer  quick  enough.  There’s 
plenty  belonging  to  me.  Don’t  ye  fear  for  me,  my  dear.” 

“But  are  any  of  ’em  near  here  ?”  said  the  men's 
voices  ; the  women’s  voices  chiming  in  when  it  was 
said,  and  prolonging  the  strain. 

“Quite  near  enough,”  said  Betty,  rousing  herself. 
“ Don’t  ye  be  afeard  for  me,  neighbours.” 

“ But  you  are  not  fit  to  travel.  Where  are  you 
going  ? ” was  the  next  compassionate  chorus  she  heard. 

“ I’m  a going  to  London  when  I’ve  sold  out  all,”  said 


THE  END  OF  A LONG  JOURNEY. 


95 


Betty,  rising  with  difficulty.  right  good  friends 

in  London.  I want  for  nothing.  I shall  come  to  no 
harm.  Thankye.  Don’t  ye  be  afeard  for  me.” 

A well-meaning  bystander,  yellow-leggined  and  pur- 
ple-faced, said  hoarsely  over  his  red  comforter,  as  she 
rose  to  her  feet,  that  she  oughtn’t  to  be  let  to  go.” 

‘^For  the  Lord’s  love  don’t  meddle  with  me  !”  cried 
old  Betty,  all  her  fears  crowding  on  her.  I am  quite 
well  now,  and  I must  go  this  minute.” 

She  caught  up  her  basket  as  she  spoke  and  was  mak- 
ing an  unsteady  rush  away  from  them,  when  the  same 
bystander  checked  her  with  his  hand  on  her  sleeve, 
and  urged  her  to  come  with  him  and  see  the  parish- 
doctor.  Strengthening  herself  by  the  utmost  exercise 
of  her  resolution,  the  poor  trembling  creature  shook 
him  off,  almost  fiercely,  and  took  to  flight.  Nor  did  she 
feel  safe  until  she  had  set  a mile  or  two  of  by-road  be- 
tween herself  and  the  market-place,  and  had  crept  into 
a copse,  like  a hunted  animal,  to  hide  and  recover 
breath.  Not  until  then  for  the  first  time  did  she  venture 
to  recall  how  she  had  looked  over  her  shoulder  before 
turning  out  of  the  town,  and  had  seen  the  sign  of  the 
White  Lion  hanging  across  the  road,  and  the  fluttering 
market  booths,  and  the  old  grey  church,  and  the  little 
crowd  gazing  after  her,  but  not  attempting  to  follow 
her. 

The  second  frightening  incident  was  this.  She  had 
been  again  as  bad,  and  had  been  for  some  days  better, 
and  was  travelling  along  by  a part  of  the  road  where  it 
touched  the  river,  and  in  wet  seasons  was  so  often  over- 
flowed by  it  that  there  were  tall  white  posts  set  up  to 
mark  the  way.  A barge  was  being  towed  towards  her, 
and  she  sat  down  on  the  bank  to  rest  and  watch  it. 
As  the  tow-rope  was  slackened  by  a turn  of  the  stream 
and  dipped  into  the  water,  such  a confusion  stole  into 
her  mind  that  she  thought  she  saw  the  forms  of  her 
dead  children  and  dead  grandchildren  peopling  the 
barge,  and  waving  their  hands  to  her  in  solemn  meas- 
ure ; then,  as  the  rope  tightened  and  came  up,  drop- 
ping diamonds,  it  seemed  to  vibrate  into  two  parallel 
ropes  and  strike  her,  with  a twang,  though  it  was  far 
off.  When  she  looked  again,  there  was  no  barge,  no 
river,  no  daylight,  and  a man  whom  she  had  never 
before  seen  held  a candle  close  to  her  face, 


OG 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Now,  Missis,”  said  he  ; where  did  you  come  from 
and  where  are  you  going  to  ? ” 

The  poor  soul  confusedly  asked  the  counter-question 
where  she  was  ? 

I am  the  Lock,”  said  the  man. 

^^The  Lock?” 

am  the  Deputy  Lock,  on  job,  and  this  is  the 
Lockhouse.  (Lock  or  Deputy  Lock,  it’s  all  one, 
while  the  t’other  man’s  in  the  hospital.)  What’s  your 
Parish?” 

Parish  !”  She  was  up  from  the  truckle-bed  directly, 
wildly  feeling  about  her  for  her  basket,  and  gazing  at 
him  in  affright. 

^'You’ll  be  asked  the  question  down  town,”  said  the 
man.  ^^They  won’t  let  you  be  more  than  a Casual 
there.  They’ll  pass  you  on  to  your  settlement.  Missis, 
with  all  speed.  You’re  not  in  a state  to  be  let  come 
upon  strange  parishes  ’ceptin  as  a Casual.” 

^^’Twas  the  deadness  again  !”  murmured  Betty  Hig- 
den  with  her  hand  to  her  head. 

''It  was  the  deadness,  there’s  not  a doubt  about  it,” 
returned  the  man.  " I should  have  thought  the  dead- 
ness was  a mild  word  for  it,  if  it  had  been  named  to 
me  when  we  brought  you  in.  Have  you  got  any  friends. 
Missis  ? ” 

"The  best  of  friends.  Master.” 

"I  should  recommend  your  looking  ’em  up  if  you 
consider  ’em  game  to  do  anything  for  you,”  said  the 
Deputy  Lock.  " Have  you  got  any  money  ? ” 

" Just  a morsel  of  money,  sir.” 

" Do  you  want  to  keep  it?  ” 

" Sure  I do  ! ” 

"Well,  you  know,”  said  the  Deputy  Lock,  shrugging 
his  shoulders  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  and  shak- 
ing his  head  in  a sulkily  ominous  manner,  " the  parish 
authorities  down  town  will  have  it  out  of  you  if  you 
go  on,  you  may  take  your  Alfred  David.” 

"Then  I’ll  not  go  on.” 

"They’ll  make  you  pay,  as  fur  as  your  money  will 
go,”  pursued  the  Deputy,  "for  your  relief  as  a Casual 
and  for  your  being  passed  to  your  Parish.” 

" Thank  ye  kindly,  Master,  for  your  warning,  thank 
ye  for  your  shelter,  and  good  night.” 

"Stop  a bit,”  said  the  Deputy,  striking  in  between 


THE  END  OF  A LONG  JOURNEY. 


97 


her  and  the  door.  Why  are 'you  all  of  a shake,  and 

what’s  your  hurry,. Missis?” 

‘‘^Oh,  Master,  Master,”  returned  Betty  Higden,  ^HVe 
fought  against  the  Parish,  and  -fled  from  it  all  my  life, 
and  I want  to  die  free  of  it.” 

‘G  don’t  know,”  said  the  Deputy,  with  deliberation, 
''as  I ought  to  let  you  go.  I’m  a honest  man  as  get’s 
my  living  by  the  sweat  of  my  brow,  and  I may  fall 
into  trouble  by  letting  you  go.  IVe  fell  into  trouble 
afore  now,  by  George,  and  I know  what  it  is,  and  it’s 
made  me  careful.  You  might  be  took  with  your  dead- 
ness again,  half  a mile  off — or  half  of  half  a quarter, 
for  the  matter  of  that — and  then  it  would  be  asked. 
Why  did  that  there  honest  Deputy  Lock  let  her  go, 
instead  of  putting  her  safe  with  the  Parish?  That’s 
what  a man  of  his  character  ought  to  have  done,  it 
would  be  argueyfied,”  said  the  Deputy  Lock,  cunningly 
harping  on  the  strong  string  of  her  terror  ; "he  ought 
to  have  handed  her  over  safe  to  the  Parish.  That  was 
to  be  expected  of  a man  of  his  merits.” 

As  he  stood  in  the  doorway,  the  poor  old  careworn, 
wayworn  woman  burst  into  tears,  and  clasped  her  hands, 
as  if  in  a very  agony  she  prayed  to  him. 

" As  I’ve  told  you.  Master,  I’ve  the  best  of  friends. 
This  letter  will  show  how  true  I spoke,  and  they  will 
be  thankful  for  me.” 

The  Deputy  Lock  opened  the  letter  with  a grave 
face,  which  underwent  no  change  as  he  eyed  its 
contents.  But  it  might  have  done,  if  he  could  have 
read  them. 

" What  amount  of  small  change.  Missis,”  he  said,  with 
an  abstracted  air,  after  a little  meditation,  "might you 
call  a morsel  of  money  ? ” 

Hurriedly  emptying  her  j)ocket,  old  Betty  laid  down 
on  the  table,  a shilling,  and  two  sixpenny  pieces,  and  a 
few  pence. 

"If  I was  to  let  you  go  instead  of  handing  you  over 
safe  to  the  Parish,”  said  the  Deputy,  counting  the 
money  w;ith  his  eyes,  " might  it  be  your  own  free  wish 
to  leave  that  there  behind  you  ? ” 

" Take  it.  Master,  take  it,  and  welcome  and  thank- 
ful ! ” 

"I’m  a man,”  said  the  Deputy,  giving  her  back  the 
letter,  and  pocketing  the  coins,  one  by  one  "as  earns 
VOL.  II.  7 


98 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


his  living  by  the  sweat  of  his  brow  ; ’’  here  he  drew  his 
sleeve  across  his  forehead,  as  if  this  particular  portion 
of  his  humble  gains  were  the  result  of  sheer  hard  labour 
and  virtuous  industry;.  and  I won’t  stand  in  your 
way.  Go  where  you  like.” 

She  was  gone  out  of  the  Lock-house  as  soon  as  he 
gave  her  this  permission,  and  her  tottering  steps  were 
on  the  road  again.  But,  afraid  to  go  back,  and  afraid 
to  go  forward  ; seeing  what  she  fled  from,  in  the  sky- 
glare  of  the  lights  of  the  little  town  before  her,  and 
leaving  a confused  horror  of  it  everywhere  behind  her, 
as  if  she  had  escaped  it  in  every  stone  of  every  market- 
place ; she  struck  off  by  side  ways,  among  which  she 
got  bewildered  and  lost.  That  night  she  took  refuge 
from  the  Samaritan  in  his  latest  accredited  form,  under 
a farmer’s  rick;  and  if — worth  thinking  of,  perhaps,  my 
fellow-Christians — the  Samaritan  had  in  the  lonely 
night  ''passed  by  on  the  other  side,”  she  would  have 
most  devoutly  thanked  High  Heaven  for  her  escape 
from  him. 

The  morning  found  her  afoot  again,  but  fast  declin- 
ing as  to  the  clearness  of  her  thoughts,  though  not  as  to 
the  steadiness  of  her  purpose.  Comprehending  that 
her  strength  was  quitting  her,  and  that  the  struggle  of 
her  life  was  almost  ended,  she  could  neither  reason 
out  the  means  of  getting  back  to  her  protectors,  nor 
even  form  the  idea.  The  overmastering  dread,  and  the 
proud  stubborn  resolution  it  engendered  in  her  to  die 
undegraded,  were  the  two  distinct  impressions  left  in 
her  failing  mind.  Supported  only  by  a sense  that  she 
was  bent  on  conquering  in  her  life-long  flght,  she  went 
on. 

The  time  was  come,  now,  when  the  wants  of  this 
little  life  were  passing  away  from  her.  She  could  not 
have  swallowed  food,  though  a table  had  been  spread 
for  her  in  the  next  field.  The  day  was  cold  and  wet, 
but  she  scarcely  knew  it.  She  crept  on,  poor  soul,  like 
a criminal  afraid  of  being  taken,  and  felt  little  beyond 
the  terror  of  falling  down  while  it  was  yet  daylight, 
and  being  found  alive.  She  had  no  fear  that  she  would 
live  through  another  night. 

Sewn  in  the  breast  of  her  gown,  the  money  to  pay  for 
her  burial  was  still  intact.  If  she  could  wear  through 
the  day,  and  then  lie  down  to  die  under  cover  of  the 


THE  END  OF  A LONG  JOURNEY. 


99 


darkness,  she  would  die  independent.  If  she  were  cap- 
tured previously,  the  money  would  be  taken  from  her 
as  a pauper  who  had  no  right  to  it,  and  she  would  be 
carried  to  the  accursed  workhouse.  Gaining  her  end, 
the  letter  would  be  found  in  her  breast,  along  with  the 
money,  and  the  gentlefolks  would  say  when  it  was 
given  back  to  them,  She  prized  it,  did  old  Betty 
Higden;  she  was  true  to  it;  and  whiles  she  lived,  she 
would  never  let  it  be  disgraced  by  falling  into  the 
hands  of  those  that  she  held  in  horror.’’  Most  illogi- 
cal, inconsequential,  and  light-headed,  this;  but  trav- 
ellers in  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death  are  apt  to 
be  light-headed;  and  worn-out  old  people  of  low  estate 
have  a trick  of  reasoning  as  indifferently  as  they  live, 
and  doubtless  would  appreciate  our  Poor  Lav>^  more 
philosophically  on  an  income  of  ten  thousand  a year. 

So,  keeping  to  byways,  and  shunning  human  ap- 
proach, this  troublesome  old  woman  hid  herself,  and 
fared  on  all  through  the  dreary  day.  Yet  so  unlike 
was  she  to  vagrant  hiders  in  general,  that  sometimes 
as  the  day  advanced,  there  was  a bright  fire  in  her 
eyes,  and  a quicker  beating  at  her  feeble  heart,  as 
though  she  said  exultingly,  ^^The  Lord  will  see  me 
through  it!  ” 

By  v/hat  visionary  hands  she  was  led  along  upon  that 
journey  of  escape  from  the  Samaritan;  by  what  voices, 
hushed  in  the  grave,  she  seemed  to  be  addressed;  how 
she  fancied  the  dead  child  in  her  arms  again,  and  times 
innumerable  adjusted  her  shawl  to  keep  it  warm;  what 
infinite  variety  of  forms  of  tower  and  roof  and  steeple 
the  trees  took;  how  many  furious  horsemen  rode  at  her, 
crying,  There  she  goes!  Stop!  Stop,  Betty  Higden!  ” 
and  melted  away  as  they  came  close:  be  these  things 
left  untold.  Faring  on  and  hiding,  hiding  and  faring 
on,  the  poor  harmless  creature,  as  though  she  were  a 
Murderess  and  the  whole  country  were  up  after  her, 
wore  out  the  day,  and  gained  the  night. 

^^Water-meadows,  or  such  like,”  she  had  sometimes 
murmured,  on  the  day’s  pilgrimage,  when  she  had 
raised  her  head  and  taken  any  note  of  the  real  objects 
about  her.  There  now  arose  in  the  darkness,  a great 
building,  full  of  lighted  windows.  Smoke  v^as  issuing 
from  a high  chimney  in  the  rear  of  it,  and  there  was 
the  sound  of  a water-wheel  at  the  side.  Between  her 


100 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


and  the  building  lay  a piece  of  water^  in  which  the 
lighted  windows  were  reflected,  and  on  its  nearest 
margin  was  a plantation  of  trees.  I humbly  thank 
the  Power  and  the  Glory/’  said  Betty  Higden,  holding 
up  her  withered  hands,  ‘^^that  I have  come  to  my  jour- 
ney’s end!” 

She  crept  among  the  trees  to  the  trunk  of  a tree 
whence  she  could  see,  beyond  some  intervening  trees 
and  branches,  the  lighted  windows,  both  in  their  reality 
and  reflection  in  the  water.  She  placed  her  orderly 
little  basket  at  her  side,  and  sank  upon  the  ground, 
supporting  herself  against  a tree.  It  brought  to  her 
mind  the  foot  of  the  Cross,  and  she  committed  herself 
to  Him  who  died  upon  it.  Her  strength  held  out  to 
enable  her  to  arrange  the  letter  in  her  breast,  so  as  it 
could  he  seen  that  she  had  a paper  there.  It  had  held 
out  for  this,  and  it  departed  when  this  was  done. 

am  safe  here,”  was  her  last  benumbed  thought. 

When  I am  found  dead  at  the  foot  of  the  Cross,  it  will 
be  by  some  of  my  own  sort;  some  of  the  working  people 
who  work  among  the  lights  yonder.  I cannot  see  the 
lighted  windows  now,  but  they  are  there.  I am  thank- 
ful foj*  all.” 

The  darkness  gone,  and  a face  bending  down. 

It  cannot  be  the  boof  er  lady  ? ” 

I don’t  understand  what  you  say.  Let  me  wet  your 
lips  again  with  this  brandy.  I have  been  away  to  fetch 
it.  Did  you  think  that  I was  long  gone  ? ” 

It  is  as  the  face  of  a woman,  shaded  by  a quantity  of 
rich  dark  hair.  It  is  the  earnest  face  of  a woman  who 
is  young  and  handsome.  But  all  is  over  with  me  on 
earth,  and  this  must  be  an  Angel. 

Have  I been  long  dead  ? ” 

I don’t  understand  what  you  say.  Let  me  wet  your  j 
lips  again.  I hurried  all  I could,  and  brought  no  one 
back  with  me,  lest  you  should  die  of  the  shock  of 
strangers.” 

Am  I not  dead  ?” 

‘‘1  cannot  understand  what  you  say.  Your  voice  is 
so  low  and  broken  that  I cannot  hear  you.  Do  you 
hear  me  ?.” 

^Wes.” 

Do  you  mean  Yes  ? ” 


THE  END  OE  A LONG  JOURNEY. 


101 


‘‘Yes.” 

“ I was  coming  from  my  work  just  now,  along  the 
path  outside  (I  was  up  with  the  night-hands  last  night), 
and  I heard  a groan,  and  found  you  lying  here.” 

“ What  work,  deary  ?” 

“ Did  you  ask  what  work  ? At  tfre  paper-mill.” 

“ Where  is  it  ?” 

“Your  face  is  turned  up  to  the  sky,  and  you  can’t  see 
it.  It  is  close  by.  You  can  see  my  face,  here,  between 
you  and  the  sky  ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Dare  I lift  you  ? ” 

“Not  yet.” 

“Not  even  lift  your  head  to  get  it  on  my  arm  ? I will 
do  it  by  very  gentle  degrees.  You  shall  hardly  feel  it.” 

“Not  yet.  Paper.  Letter.” 

“ This  paper  in  your  breast  ? ” 

“ Bless  ye  ! ” 

“ Let  me  wet  your  lips  again.  Am  I to  open  it  ? To 
read  it  ? ” 

“ Bless  ye  ! ” 

She  reads  it  with  surprise,  and  looks  down  with  a new 
expression  and  an  added  interest  on  the  motionless  face 
she  kneels  beside. 

“ I know  these  names.  I have  heard  "them  often.” 

“Will  you  send  it,  my  dear?” 

“I  cannot  understand  you.  Let  me  wet  your  lips 
again,  and  your  forehead.  There.  Oh,  poor  thing,  poor 
thing!”  These  words  through  her  fast  dropping  tears. 
“What  was  it  that  you  asked  me?  Wait  till  I bring 
my  ear  quite  close.” 

“Will  you  send  it,  my  dear?” 

“Will  I send  it  to  the  writers?  Is  that  your  wish? 
Yes,  certainly.” 

“ You’ll  not  give  it  up  to  any  one  but  them?” 

“No.” 

“ As  you  must  grow  old  in  time,  and  come  to  your 
dying  hour,  my  dear,  you’ll  not  give  it  up  to  any  one 
but  them?” 

“No.  Most  solemnly.” 

“Never  to  the  Parish!”  with  a convulsive  struggle. 

“No.  Most  solemnly.” 

“Nor  let  the  Parish  touch  me,  nor  yet  so  much  as 
look  at  me ! ” with  another  struggle. 


103 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


“No.  Faithfully.” 

A look  of  thankfulness  and  triumph  lights  the  worn 
old  face.  The  eyes  which  have  been  darkly  fixed  upon 
the  sky,  turn  with  meaning  in  them  towards  the  com- 
passionate face  from  which  the  tears  are  dropping,  and 
a smile  is  on  the  ag^d  lips  as  they  ask  : 

“What  is  your  name,  my  dear?” 

“ My  name  is  Lizzie  Hexam.” 

“I  must  be  sore  disfigured.  Are  you  afraid  to  kiss 
me?” 

The  answer  is  the  ready  pressure  of  her  lips  upon  the 
cold  but  smiling  mouth. 

“ Bless  ye!  Now  lift  me,  my  love.” 

Lizzie  Hexam  very  softly  raised  the  weather-stained 
grey  head,  and  lifted  her  as  high  as  Heaven. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

SOMEBODY  BECOMES  THE  SUBJECT  OP  A PREDICTION. 

••  • "YTTE  GIVE  THEE  HEARTY  THANKS  FOR  THAT  IT  HATH 
VV  PLEASED, THEE  TO  DELIVER  THIS  OUR  SISTER  OUT 
OF  THE  MISERIES  OP  THIS  SINFUL  WORLD.  ’”  So  read  the 
Reverend  Frank  Milvey,  in  a not  untroubled  voice,  for 
his  heart  misgave  him  that  all  was  not  quite  right  be- 
tween US  and  our  sister — or  say  our  sister  in  Law  -Poor 
Law— and  that  we  sometimes  read  these  words  in  an 
awful  manner,  over  our  Sister  and  our  Brother  too. 

And  Sloppy — on  whom  the  brave  deceased  had  never 
turned  her  back  until  she  ran  away  from  him,  knowing 
that  otherwise  he  would  not  be  separated  from  her 
Sloppy  could  not  in  his  conscience  as  yet  find  the  hearty 
thanks  required  of  it.  Selfish  in  Sloppy,  and  yet  excusa-  , 
ble,  it  may  be  humbly  hoped,  because  our  sister  had  been  ; 
more  than  his  mother. 

The  words  were  read  above  the  ashes  of  Betty  Higden,  ; 
in  a corner  of  a churchyard  near  the  river;  in  a church-  j 
yard  so  obscure  that  there  was  nothing  in  it  but  grass  j 
mounds,  not  so  much  as  one  single  tombstone.  It  might 
not  be  to  do  an  unreasonably  great  deal  for  the  diggers  , 
and  hewerSj  in  a registering  age,  if  we  ticketed  their  i 


SUBJECT  OF  A PREDICTION. 


103 


graves  at  the  common  charge;  so  that  a new, generation 
might  know  which  was  which:  so  that  the  soldier, 
sailor,  emigrant,  coming  home,  should  be  able  to  iden- 
tify the  resting-place  of  father,  mother,  playmate,  or 
betrothed.  For,  we  turn  up  our  eyes  and  say  that  we 
are  all  alike  in  death,  and  we  might  turn  them  down  and 
work  the  saying  out  in  this  world,  so  far.  It  would  be 
sentimental,  perhaps?  But  how  say  ye,  my  lords  and 
gentlemen  and  honourable  boards,  shall  we  not  find  good 
standing-room  left  for  a little  sentiment,  if  we  look  into 
our  crowds? 

Near  unto  the  Reverend  Frank  Milvey  as  he  read, 
stood  his  little  wife,  John  Rokesmith  the  Secretary,  and 
Bella  Wilfer.  These,  over  and  above  Sloppy,  were  the 
mourners  at  the  lowly  grave.  Not  a penny  had  been 
added  to  the  money  sewn  in  her  dress:  what  her  honest 
spirit  had  so  long  projected,  was  fulfilled. 

Pve  took  it  in  my  head,”  said  Sloppy,  laying  it,  in- 
consolable, against  the  church-door,  when  all  was  done: 
'Tve  took  it  in  my  wretched  head  that  I might  have 
sometimes  turned  a little  harder  for  her,  and  it  cuts  me 
deep  to  think  so  now.” 

The  Reverend  Frank  Milvey,  comforting  Sloppy,  ex- 
pounded to  him  how  the  best  of  us  were  more  or  less 
remiss  in  our  turnings  at  our  respective  Mangles — some 
of  us  very  much  so — and  how  we  were  all  a halting, 
failing,  feeble,  and  inconstant  crew. 

She  warn’t,  sir,”  said  Sloppy,  taking  this  ghostly 
counsel  rather  ill,  in  behalf  of  his  late  benefactress. 
^^Let  us  speak  for  ourselves,  sir.  She  went  through 
with  whatever  duty  she  had  to  do.  She  went  through 
with  me,  she  went  through  with  the  Minders,  she  went 
through  with  herself,  she  went  through  with  every- 
thing. Oh,  Mrs.  Higden,  Mrs.  Higden,  you  was  a 
woman  and  a mother  and  a mangier^  in  a million 
million!” 

With  those  heartfelt  words.  Sloppy  removed  his  de- 
jected head  from  the  church-door,  and  took  it  back  to  the 
grave  in  the  corner,  and  laid  it  down  there,  and  wept 
alone.  ‘^Not  a very  poor  grave,”  said  the  Reverend 
Frank  Milvey,  brushing  his  hand  across  his  eyes,  when 
it  has  that  homely  figure  on  it.  Richer,  I think,  than  it 
could  be  made  by  most  of  the  sculpture  in  Westminster 
Abbey  ! ” 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


101 

They  left  him  undisturbed,  and  passed  out  at  the 
wicket-gate.  The  water-wheel  of  the  paper-mill  was 
audible  tliere,  and  seemed  to  have  a softening  influence 
on  the  bright  wintry  scene.  They  had  arrived  but  a 
little  while  before,  and  Lizzie  Hexam  now  told  them 
the  little  she  could  add  to  the  letter  in  which  she  had 
enclosed  Mr.  Rokesmith’s  letter  and  had  asked  for  their 
instructions.  This  was  merely  how  she  had  heard  the 
groan,  and  what  had  afterwards  passed,  and  how  she 
had  obtained  leave  for  the  remains  to  be  placed  in  that 
sweet,  fresh,  empty  store-room  of  the  mill  from  which 
they  had  just  accompanied  them  to  the  churchyard,  and 
how  the  last  requests  had  been  religiously  observed, 
could  not  have  done  it  all,  or  nearly  all,  of  myself,^’ 
said  Lizzie.  should  not  have  wanted  the  Avill;  but 
I should  not  have  had  the  power,  without  our  managing 
partner.’' 

'^Surely  not  the  Jew  who  received  us  said  Mrs. 
Milvey. 

My  dear,”  observed  her  husband  in  parenthesis, 

why  not  ? ”) 

The  gentleman  certainly  is  a Jew,”  said  Lizzie,  ''  and 
the  lady,  his  wife,  is  a Jewess,  and  I was  first  brought 
to  their  notice  by  a Jew.  But  I think  there  cannot  be 
kinder  people  in  the  world.” 

^^But  suppose  they  try  to  convert  jmu!”  suggested 
Mrs.  Milvey,  bristling  in  her  good  little  way  as  a clergy- 
man’s wife. 

^^To  do  what,  ma'am  ? " asked  Lizzie  with  a modest 
smile. 

^^To  make  you  change  your  religion,”  said  Mrs. 
Milvey. 

Lizzie  shook  her  head,  still  smiling,  ^^They  have 
never  asked  me  what  my  religion  is.  They  asked  me 
what  my  story  was,  and  I told  them.  They  asked  me 
to  be  industrious  and  faithful,  and  I promised  to  be  so. 
They  most  willingly  and  cheerfully  do  their  duty  to  all 
of  us  who  are  employed  here,  and  we  try  to  do  ours 
to  them.  Indeed,  they  do  much  more  than  their  duty 
to  us,  for  they  are  wonderfully  mindful  of  us  in  many 
ways.” 

''It  is  easy  to  see  you’re  a favourite,  my  dear,”  said 
little  Mrs.  Milvey,  not  quite  pleased. 

" It  would  be  very  ungrateful  in  rne  to  say  I am  not,” 


SUBJECT  OF  A PREDICTION. 


105 


returned  Lizzie,  ^^for  I have  been  already  raised  to  a 
place  of  'confidence  here.  But  that  makes  no  difference 
in  their  following  their  own  religion  and  leaving  all  of 
us  to  ours.  They  never  talk  of  theirs  to  us,  and  they 
never  talk  of  ours  to  us.  If  I was  the  last  in  the  mill, 
it  would  be  just  the  same.  They  never  asked  me  what 
religion  that  poor  thing  had  followed.’’ 

“My  dear,”  said  Mrs.  Milvey,  aside  to  the  Reverend 
Frank,  “I  wish  you  would  talk  to  her.” 

My  dear,”  said  the  Reverend  Prank  aside  to  his  good 
little  wife,  “I  think  I will  leave  it  to  somebody  else. 
The  circumstances  are  hardly  favourable.  There  are 
plenty  of  talkers  going  about,  my  love,  and  she  will  soon 
find  one.” 

W^iile  this  discourse  was  interchanging,  both  Bella 
and  the  Secretary  observed  Lizzie  Hexam  with  great 
attention.  Brought  face  to  face  for  the  first  time  with 
the  daughter  of  his  supposed  murderer,  it  was  natural 
that  John  Harmon  should  have  his  own  secret  reasons 
for  a careful  scrutiny  of  her  countenance  and  manner. 
Bella  knew  that  Lizzie’s  father  had  been  falsely  accused 
of  the  crime  which  had  had  so  great  an  infiuence  on  her 
own  life  and  fortunes;  and  her  interest,  though  it  had 
no  secret  springs,  like  that  of  the  Secretary,  was  equally 
natural.  Both  had  expected  to  see  something  very 
different  from  the  real  Lizzie  Hexam,  and  thus  it  fell 
out  that  she  became  the  unconscious  means  of  bringing 
them  together. 

For,  when  they  had  walked  on  with  her  to  the  little 
house  in  the  clean  village  by  the  paper-mill,  where  Liz- 
zie had  a lodging  with  an  elderly  couple  employed  in 
the  establishment,  and  when  Mrs.  Milvey  and  Bella  had 
been  up  to  see  her  room  and  had  come  down,  the  mill 
bell  rang.  This  called  Lizzie  away  for  the  time,  and 
left  the  Secretary  and  Bella  standing  rather  awkwardly 
in  the  small  street;  Mrs.  Milvey  being  engaged  in  pur- 
suing the  village  children,  and  her  investigations 
whether  they  were  in  danger  of  becoming  children  of 
Israel;  and  the  Reverend  Frank  being  engaged — to  say 
the  truth — in  evading  that  branch  of  his  spiritual  func- 
tions, and  getting  out  of  sight  surreptitiously. 

Bella  at  length  said: 

“ Hadn’t  we  better  talk  about  the  commission  we  have 
undertaken,  Mr.  Rokesmith?” 


100 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


“By  all  means,”  said  the  Secretary. 

“I  suppose,”  faltered  Bella,  “that  we  are  both  com- 
missioned, or  we  shouldn’t  both  be  here?” 

“ I suppose  so,”  was  the  Secretary’s  answer. 

“ When  I proposed  to  come  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Milvey,” 
said  Bella,  “ Mrs.  Boffin  urged  me  to  do  so,  in  order  that 
I might  give  her  my  small  report— it’s  not  worthy  any- 
thing, Mr.  Rokesmith,  except  for  its  being  a woman  s 
whiSi  indeed  with  you  may  be  a fresh  reason  for  its 
beino-  worth  nothing— of  Lizzie  Hexam.” 

“ Mr.  Boffin,”  said  the  Secretary,  “ directed  me  to  come 

for  the  same  purpose.”  , ^ x i 

As  they  spoke  they  were  leaving  the  little  street  and 
emerging  on  the  wooded  landscape  by  the  river. 

“^ou  think  well  of  her,  Mr.  Rokesmith?”  "pursued 
Bella,  conscious  of  making  all  the  advances. 

“I  think  highly  of  her.”  j • 

“I  am  so  glad  of  that!  Something  quite  refined  m 
her  beauty,  is  there  not?” 

“ Her  appearance  is  very  striking.  , , . 

“There  is  a shade  of  sadness  upon  her  that  is  quite 
touching.  At  least,  I— I am  not  setting  up  my  own  poor 
opinion  ynn  know,  IVtr.  Rokosniitlij  snid  Bolin,  oxcus- 
ing  and  explaining  herself  in  a pretty  shy  way;  “lam 

consulting  you.”  ^ „ -a  +1 

“ I noticed  that  sadness.  I hope  it  may  not  said  the 
Secretary  in  a lower  voice,  ‘"be  the  result  of  the  false 
accusation  which  has  been  retracted  ” -xi  x 

When  they  had  passed  on  a little  further  without 
speaking,  Bella,  after  stealing  a glance  or  two  at  the 

Secretary,  suddenly  said : , , , . ,i  j >+ 1 

“ Oh,  Mr.  Rokesmith,  don’t  be  hard  with  me,  don  t be 
stern  with  me;  be  magnanimous!  I want  to  talk  with 

you  on  equal  terms.”  , , . , x j j j.  a 

The  Secretary  as  suddenly  brightened  and  returned : 
“Upon  my  honour,  I had  no  thought  but  for  you.  1 
forced  myself  to  be  constrained,  lest  you  might  rois- 
interpret  my  being  more  natural.  There.  It  s gone.  _ 
“ Thank  you,”  said  Bella,  holding  out  her  little  hand. 

“Forgive  me.”  , 

“ No! ” cried  the  Secretary,  eagerly.  ‘Forgive  me! 
For  there  were  tears  in  her  eyes,  and  they  were  preraer 
in  his  sight  (though  they  smote  him  on  the  heart  rather 
reproachfully  too)  than  any  other  glitter  m the  world. 


SUBJECT  OF  A PREDICTION. 


107 


When  they  had  walked  a little  further: 

You  were  going  to  speak  to  mej’  said  the  Secretary, 
with  the  shadow  so  long  on  him  quite  thrown  off  and 
cast  away,  about  Lizzie  Hexam.  So  was  I going  to 
speak  to  you,  if  I could  have  begun.” 

^^Now  that  you  can  begin,  sir,”  returned  Bella,  with  a 
look  as  if  she  italicized  the  word  by  putting  one  of  her 
dimples  under  it,  what  were  you  going  to  say?” 

You  remember,  of  course,  that  in  her  short  letter  to 
Mrs.  Boffin — short,  but  containing  everything  to  the  pur- 
pose— she  stipulated  that  either  her  name,  or  else  her 
place  of  residence,  must  be  kept  strictly  a secret  among 
us.” 

Bella  nodded  Yes. 

It  is  my  duty  to  find  out  why  she  made  that  stipula- 
tion. I have  it  in  charge  from  Mr.  Boffin  to  discover, 
and  I am  very  desirous  for  myself  to  discover,  whether 
that  retracted  accusation  still  leaves  any  stain  upon 
her.  I mean  whether  it  places  her  aJ  any  disadvantage 
towards  any  one,  even  towards  herself.” 

^^Yes,”  said  Bella,  nodding  thoughtfully;  ‘‘1  under- 
stand. That  seems  wise,  and  considerate.” 

^^You  may  not  have  noticed.  Miss  Wilfer,  that  she 
has  the  same  kind  of  interest  in  you,  that  you  have  in 
her.  Just  .as  you  are  attracted  by  her  beaut — by  her 
appearance  and  manner,  she  is  attracted  by  yours.” 

'^I  certainly  have  not  noticed  it,”  returned  Bella, 
again  italicizing  with  the  dimple,  ^^and  I should  have 
given  her  credit  for ” 

The  Secretary  with  a smile  held  up  his  hand,  so  plain- 
ly interposing,  not  for  better  taste,”  that  Bella’s  colour 
deepened  over  the  little  piece  of  coquetry  she  was 
checked  in. 

^^And  so,”  resumed  the  Secretary,  ^‘if  you  would 
speak  to  her  alone  before  we  go  away  from  here,  I feel 
quite  sure  that  a natural  and  easy  confidence  would 
arise  between  you.  Of  course  you  would  not  be  asked 
to  betray  it;  and  of  course  you  would  not,  if  you  were. 
But  if  you  do  not  object  to  put  this  question  to  her — to 
ascertain  for  us  her  own  feeling  in  this  one  matter — you 
can  do  so  at  a far  greater  advantage  than  I or  any  one 
else  could.  Mr.  Boffin  is  anxious  on  the  subject.  And 
I am,”  added  the  Secretary  after  a moment,  '^for  a spe- 
cial reason,  very  anxious.” 


108 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


‘'I  shall  be  happy,  Mr.  Rokesmith/’  returned  Bella, 
'‘to  be  of  the  least  use;  for  I feel,  after  the  serious 
scene  of  to-day,  that  I am  useless  enough  in  this 
world. 

" Don’t  say  that,”  urged  the  Secretary. 

‘'Oh,  but  I mean  that* !”  said  Bella,  raising  her  eye- 
brows. 

"No  one  is  useless  in  this  world,”  retorted  the  Secre- 
tary, "who  lightens  the  burden  of  it  for  any  one 
else.” 

"But  I assure  you  1 don't,  Mr.  Rokesmith,”  said  Bella, 
half  crying.  . 

"Not  for  your  father?  ” 

"Dear,  loving,  self-forgetting,  easily-satisfied  Pa! 
Oh,  yes!  He  thinks  so.” 

"It  is  enough  if  he  only  thinks  so,”  said  the  Secre- 
tary. "Excuse  the  interruption:  I don’t  like  to  hear 
you  depreciate  yourself.”  . 

"But  you  once  depreciated  me,  sir,”  thought  Bella, 
jjouting,  "and  I hope  you  may  be  satisfied  with  the 
consequences  you  brought  upon  your  head!  ” However, 
she  said  nothing  to  that  purpose;  she  even  said  some- 
thing to  a different  purpose. 

" Mr.  Rokesmith,  it  seems  so  long  since  we  spoke  to- 
gether naturally,  that  I am  embarrassed  in  approaching 
another  subject.  Mr.  Boffin.  You  know  I am  very 
grateful  to  him;  don’t  you?  You  know  I feel  a true 
respect  for  him,  and  am  bound  to  him  by  the  strong  ties 
of  his  own  generosity  ; now  don’t  you?  ” 

" Unquestionably.  And  also  that  you  are  his  favourite 
companion.” 

"That  makes  it,”  said  Bella,  "so  very  difficult  to 
speak  of  him.  But . Does  he  treat  you  well?” 

"You  see  how  he  treats  me,”  the  Secretary  answered, 
with  a patient  and  yet  proud  air.  ^ 

"Yes,  and  I see  it  with  pain,”  said  Bella,  very  ener- 
getically. 

The  Secretary  gave  her  such  a radiant  look,  that  if  he 
had  thanked  her  a hundred  times,  he  could  not  have 
said  as  much  as  the  look  said. 

"I  see  it  with  pain,”  repeated  Bella,  "and  it  often 
makes  me  miserable.  Miserable,  because  I cannot  bear 
to  be  supposed  to  approve  of  it,  or  have  any  indirect 
share  in  it.  Miserable,  because  I cannot  bear  to  be 


SUBJECT  OF  A PREDICTION.  109 

forced  to  admit  to  myself  that  Fortune  is  spoiling  Mr. 
Boffin.’’ 

Miss  Wilfer,”  said  the  Secretary,  with  a beaming 
face,  ‘Of  you  could  know  with  what  delight  I make  the 
discovery  that  Fortune  is  not  spoiling  you^  you  would 
know  that  it  more  than  compensates  me  for  any  slight 
at  any  other  hands.” 

“ Oh,  don’t  speak  of  irie ! ” said  Bella,  giving  herself  an 
impatient  little  slap  with  her  glove.  “You  don’t  know 
me  as  well  as ” 

“As  you  know  yourself  ?”  suggested  the  Secretary, 
finding  that  she  stopped.  “Do  you  know  yourself  ?” 

“I  know  quite  enough  of  myself,”  said  Bella,  with  a 
charming  air  of  being  inclined  to  give  herself  up  as  a 
bad  job,  “ and  I don’t  improve  upon  acquaintance.  But 
Mr.  Boffin.” 

“ That  Mr.  Boffin’s  manner  to  me,  or  consideration  for 
me,  is  not  what  it  used  to  be,”  observed  the  Secretary, 
“must  be  admitted.  It  is  too  plain  to  be  denied.” 

“ Are  you  disposed  to  deny  it,  Mr.  Rokesmith  ?”  asked 
Bella,  v/ith  a look  of  wonder. 

“ Ought  I not  to  be  glad  to  do  so,  if  I could  : though  it 
were  only  for  my  own  sake  ?” 

“ Truly,  returned  Bella,  “ it  must  try  you  very  much, 
and — you  must  please  promise  me  that  you  won’t  take 
ill  what  I am  going  to  add,  Mr.  Rokesmith  ? ” 

“ I promise  it  with  all  my  Reart.” 

“ — And  it  must  sometimes,  I should  think,”  said  Bella, 
hesitating,  “ a little  lower  you  in  your  own  estimation  ? ” 

Assenting  with  a movement  of  his  head,  though  not  at 
all  looking  as  if  it  did,  the  Secretary  replied  : 

“ I have  very  strong  reasons.  Miss  Wilfer,  for  bearing 
with  the  drawbacks  of  my  position  in  the  house  we  both 
inhabit.  Believe  that  they  are  not  all  mercenary, 
although  I have,  through  a series  of  strange  fatalities, 
faded  out  of  my  place  in  life.  If  what  you  see  with  such 
a gracious  and  good  sympathy  is  calculated  to  rouse 
my  pride,  there  are  other  considerations  (and  those  you 
do  not  see)  urging  me  to  quiet  endurance.  The  latter 
are  by  far  the  stronger.” 

“I  think  I have  noticed,  Mr.  Rokesmith,”  said  Bella, 
looking  at  him  with  curiosity,  as  not  quite  making  him 
out,  “that  you  repress  yourself,  and  force  yourself  to 
act  a passive  part.” 


110 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


^^You  are  right.  I repress  myself  and  force  myself 
to  act  a part.  It  is  not  in  tameness  of  spirit  that  I sub- 
mit. I have  a settled  purpose.’’ 

And  a good  one^  I hope/’  said  Bella. 

“^^And  a good  one,  I hope,”  he  answered,  looking 
steadily  at  her. 

Sometimes  I have  fancied,  sir,”  said  Bella,  turning 
away  her  eyes,  that  your  great  regard  for  Mrs.  Boffin 
is  a very  powerful  motive  with  you.” 

^^You  are  right  again;  it  is.  I would  do  any- 
thing for  her,  bear  anything  for  her.  There  are  no 
words  to  express  how  I esteem  that  good,  good 
woman.” 

As  I do  too  ! May  I ask  you  one  thing  more,  Mr. 
Rokesmith  ? ” 

Anything  more.” 

‘^Of  course  you  see  that  she  really  suffers,  when  Mr. 
Boffin  shows  how  he  is  changing  ? ” 

I see  it,  every  day,  as  you  see  it,  and  am  grieved  to 
give  her  pain.” 

To  give  her  pain  ?”  said  Bella,  repeating  the  phrase 
quickly,  with  her  eyebrows  raised. 

I am  generally  the  unfortunate  cause  of  it.” 

Perhaps  she  says  to  you,  as  she  often  says  to  me, 
that  he  is  the  best  of  men,  in  spite  of  all.” 

I often  overhear  her,  in  her  honest  and  beautiful 
devotion  to  him,  saying  so  to  you,”  returned  the 
Secretary,  with  the  same  steady  look,  ‘^but  I cannot 
assert  that  she  ever  says  so  to  me.” 

Bella  met  the  steady  locfl^  for  a moment  v/ith  a wist- 
ful, musing  little  look  of  her  own,  and  then,  nodding 
her  pretty  head  several  times,  like  a dimpled  philosopher 
(of  the  very  best  school)  who  was  moralising  on  Life, 
heaved  a little  sigh,  and  gave  up  things  in  general  for 
a bad  job,  as  she  had  previously  been  inclined  to  give 
up  herself. 

But,  for  all  that,  they  had  a very  pleasant  walk.  The 
trees  were  bare  of  leaves,  and  the  river  Avas  bare  of 
water-lilies  ; but  the  sky  was  not  bare  of  its  beautiful 
blue,  and  the  water  reflected  it,  and  a delicious  wind 
ran  with  the  stream,  touching  the  surface  crisply.  Per- 
haps the  old  mirror  was  never  yet  made  by  human 
hands,  which,  if  all  the  images  it  has  in  its  time  reflected 
could  pass  across  its  surface  again,  Avould  fail  to  reveal 


SUBJECT  OF  A PREDICTION 


in 


some  scene  of  horror  or  distress.  But  the  great  serene 
mirror  of  the  river  seemed  as  if  it  might  have  repro- 
duced all  it  had  ever  reflected  between  those  placid 
banks,  and  brought  nothing  to  the  light  save  what  was 
peaceful,  pastoral,  and  blooming. 

So,  they  walked,  speaking  of  the  newly  filled-up 
grave,  and  of  Johnny,  and  of  many  things.  So,  on 
their  return,  they  met  brisk  Mrs.  Milvey  coming  to  seek 
them,  with  the  agreeable  intelligence  that  there  was  no 
fear  for  the  village  children,  there  being  a Christian 
school  in  the  village,  and  no  worse  Judaical  interfer- 
ence with  it  than  to  plant  its  garden.  So  they  got  back 
to  the  village  as  Lizzie  Hexam  was  coming  from  the 
paper-mill,  and  Bella  detached  herself  to  speak  with 
her  in  her  own  home. 

I am  afraid  it  is  a poor  room  for  you,”  said  Lizzie, 
with  a smile  of  welcome,  as  she  offered  the  post  of 
honour  by  the  fireside. 

Not  so  poor  as  you  think,  my  dear/’  returned 
Bella,  ‘‘if  you  knew  all.”  Indeed,  though  attained  by 
some  wonderful  winding  narrow  stairs,  which  seemed 
to  have  been  erected  in  a pure  white  chimney,  and 
though  very  low  in  the  ceiling,  and  very  rugged  in  the 
floor,  and  rather  blinking  as  to  the  proportions  of  its 
latticed  window,  it  was  a pleasanter  room  than  that 
despised  chamber  once  at  home,  in  which  Bella  had 
first  bemoaned  the  miseries  of  taking  lodgers. 

The  day  was  closing  as  the  two  girls  looked  at  one 
another  by  the  fireside.  The  dusky  room  was  lighted 
by  the  Are.  The  grate  might  have  been  the  old  brazier, 
and  the  glow  might  have  been  the  old  hollow  down  by 
the  flare. 

^^It’s  quite  new  to  me,”  said  Lizzie,  ^^to  be  visited  by 
a lady  so  nearly  of  my  own  age,  and  so  pretty  as  you. 
It’s  a pleasure  to  me  to  look  at  you.” 

I have  nothing  left  to  begin  v/ith,”  returned  Bella, 
blushing,  because  I was  going  to  say  that  it  was  a 
pleasure  to  me  to  look  at  you,  Lizzie.  But  we  can  be- 
gin without  a beginning,  can’t  we  ? ” 

Lizzie  took  the  pretty  little  hand  that  was  held  out  in 
as  pretty  a little  frankness. 

^‘Now,  dear,”  said  Bella,  drawing  her  chair  a little 
nearer,  and  taking  Lizzie’s  arm  as  if  they  were  going 
out  for  a walk.  “1  am  commissioned  with  something 


112 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


to  say^  and  I dare  say  I shall  say  it  wrong,  but  I wonT 
if  I can  help  it.  It  is  in  reference  to  your  letter  to  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Boffin,  and  this  is  what  it  is.  Let  me  see.  Oh 
yes  ! This  is  what  it  is.^’ 

With  this  exordium,  Bella  set  forth  that  request  o£ 
Lizzie’s  touching  secrecy,  and  delicately  spoke  of  that 
false  accusation  and  its  retraction,  and  asked  might  she 
beg  to  be  informed  whether  it  had  any  bearing,  near  or 
remote,  on  such  request.  I feel,  my  dear,”  said  Bella, 
quite  amazing  herself  by  the  business-like  manner  in 
which  she  was  getting  on,  '^that  the  subject  must  be  a 
painful  one  to  you,  but  I am  mixed  up  in  it  also;  for — I 
don’t  know  whether  you  may  know  it  or  suspect  it — I 
am  the  willed-away  girl  who  was  to  have  been  married 
to  the  unfortunate  gentleman,  if  he  had  been  pleased 
to  approve  of  me.  So  I was  dragged  into  the  subject 
without  my  consent,  and  you  were  dragged  into  it  with- 
out your  consent,  and  there  is  very  little  to  choose  be- 
tween us.” 

‘‘1  had  no  doubt,”  said  Lizzie,  ''that  you  were  the 
Miss  Wilfer  I have  often  heard  named.  Can  you  tell 
me  who  my  unknown  friend  is?” 

"Unknown  friend,  my  dear?”  said  Bella. 

"Who  caused  the  charge  against  poor  father  to  be 
contradicted,  and  sent  me  the  written  paper.” 

Bella  had  never  heard  of  him.  Had  no  notion  who 
he  was. 

"I  should  have  been  glad  to  thank  him,”  returned 
Lizzie.  "He  has  done  a great  deal  for  me.  I must 
hope  that  he  will  let  me  thank  him  some  day.  You 
asked  me  has  it  anything  to  do ” 

" It  or  the  accusation  itself,”  Bella  put  in. 

"Yes.  Has  either  anything  to  do  with  my  wishing 
to  live  quite  secret  and  retired  here?  No.” 

As  Lizzie  Hexam  shook  her  head  in  giving  this  reply, 
and  as  her  glance  sought  the  fire,  there  was  a quiet  res- 
olution in  her  folded  hands,  not  lost  on  Bella’s  bright 
eyes. 

" Have  you  lived  much  alone?”  asked  Bella. 

"Yes.  It’s  nothing  new  to  me.  I used  to  be  always 
alone  many  hours  together,  in  the  day  and  in  the  night, 
when  poor  father  was  alive.” 

"You  have  a brother,  I have  been  told?” 

"I  have  a brotlier,  but  he  is  not  friendly  with  me. 


SUBJECT  OF  A PREDICTION.  ll‘j 

He  is  a very  good  boy,  though,  and  has  raised  himself 
by  his  industry.  I don’t  complain  of  him.” 

As  she  said  it,  with  her  eyes  upon  the  fire-glow,  there 
was  an  instantaneous  escape  of  distress  into  her  face. 
Bella  seized  the  moment  to  touch  her  hand. 

“ Lizzie,  I wish  you  would  tell  me  whether  you  have 
any  friend  of  your  own  sex  and  age.  ” 

“I  have  lived  that  lonely  kind  of  life,  that  I have 
never  had  one,”  was  the  answer. 

“Nor  I neither,”  said  Bella.  “Not  that  my  life  has 
been  lonely,  for  I could  have  sometimes  wished  it 
lonelier,  instead  of  having  Ma  going  on  like  the  tragic 
Muse  with  a face-ache  in  majestic  corners,  and  Lavvy 
being  spiteful — though  of  course  I am  very  fond  of, 
thern  both.  I wish  you  could  make  a friend  of  me, 
Lizzie.  Do  you  think  you  could?  I have  no  more  of 
what  they  call  character,  my  dear,  than  a canary- 
bird,  but  I know  I am  trustworthy.” 

The  wayward,  playful,  affectionate  nature,  giddy  for 
want  of  the  weight  of  some  sustaining  purpose,  and 
capricious  because  it  was  always  fluttering  among  little 
things,  was  yet  a captivating  one.  To  Lizzie  it  was  so 
new,  so  pretty,  at  once  so  womanlj^  and  so  childish, 
that  it  won  her  completely.  And  when  Bella  said 
again,  “Do  you  think  you  could,  Lizzie?”  with  her 
eyebrows  raised,  her  head  inquiringly  on  one  side,  and 
an  odd  doubt  about  it  in  her  own  bosom,  Lizzie  showed 
beyond  all  question  that  she  thought  she  could. 

“ Tell  me,  my  dear,”  said  Bella,  “ what  is  the  matter, 
and  why  you  live  like  this.” 

Lizzie  presently  began,  by  way  of  prelude,  “You 
must  have  many  lovers — ’’when  Bella  checked  her  with 
a little  scream  of  astonishment. 

“My  dear,  I haven’t  one!” 

“ Not  one?” 

“Well!  Perhaps  one,”  said  Bella.  “I  am  sure  I 
don  t know.  I had  one,  but  what  he  may  think  about 
it  at  the  present  time  I can’t  say.  Perhaps  I have  half 
a one  (of  course  I don’t  count  that  idiot,  George 
Sampson).  However,  never  mind  me.  I want  to  hear 
about  you.” 

There  is  a certain  man,”  said  Lizzie,  “a  passionate 
and  angry  man,  who  says  he  loves  me,  and  who  I must 
believe  does  love  me.  He  is  the  friend  of  my  brother. 

VOL.  II.  8 


114 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


I shrank  from  him  within  myself  when  my  brother 
first  brought  him  to  me;  but  the  last  time  I saw  him  he 
terrified  me  more  than  I can  say.’’  There  she  stopped. 

^^Did  you  come  here  to  escape  from  him,  Lizzie? 
came  here  immediately* after  he  so  alarmed  me.” 

^^Are  you  afraid  of  him  here?” 

I am  not  timid  generally,  but  I am  always  afraid  of 
him.  I am  afraid  to  see  a newspaper,  or  to  hear  a 
word  spoken  of  what  is  done  in  London,  lest  he  should 
have  done  some  violence.” 

Then  you  are  not  afraid  of  him  for  yourself,  dear  ?” 
said  Bella,  after  pondering  on  the.  words. 

I should  be  even  that,  if  I met  hini  about  here.  I 
look  round  for  him  always  as  I pass  to  and  fro  at  night.  ” 

Are  you  afraid  of  anything  he  may  do  to  himself  in 
London,  my  dear  ? ” 

'^No.  He  might  be  fierce  enough  even  to  do  some 
violence  to  himself,  but  I don’t  think  of  that.” 

Then  it  would  almost  seem,  dear,”  said  Bella  quaint- 
ly, as  if  there  must  be  somebody  else.” 

Lizzie  put  her  hands  before  her  face  for  a moment 
before  replying:  ^^The  words  are  always  in  my  ears, 
and  the  blow  he  struck  upon  a stone  wall  as  he  said 
them  is  always  before  my  eyes.  I have  tried  hard  to 
think  it  not  worth  remembering,  but  I cannot  make  so 
little  of  it.  His  hand  was  trickling  down  with  blood  as 
he  said  to  me,  ^ Then  I hope  that  I may  never  kill  him  ! ’ ” 

Rather  startled,  Bella  made  and  clasped  a girdle  of 
her  arms  round  Lizzie’s  waist,  and  then  asked  quietly, 
in  a soft  voice,  as  they  both  looked  at  the  fire  : 

Kill  him  ! Is  this  man  so  jealous,  then  ?” 

Of  a gentleman,”  said  Lizzie.  — I hardly  know 
how  to  tell  you — of  a gentleman  far  above  me  and  my 
way  of  life,  who  broke  father’s  death  to  me,  and  has 
shown  an  interest  in  me  since.” 

Does  he  love  you  ? ” 

Lizzie  shook  her  head. 

Does  he  admire  you  ?” 

Lizzie  ceased  to  shake  her  head,  and  pressed  her  hand 
upon  her  living  girdle. 

‘‘Is  it  through  his  infiuence  that  you  came  here  ?” 

“ Oh  no  ! And  of  all  the  world  I wouldn’t  have  him 
know  that  I am  here,  or  get  the  least  clue  where  to  find 


SUBJECT  OF  A PREDICTION, 


115 


'^Lizzie  dear!  Why?”  asked  Bella,  in  amazement 
at  this  burst.  But  then  quickly  added,  reading  Lizzie’s 
face  : ^^No.  Don’t  say  why.  That  was  a foolish  ques- 
tion of  mine.  I see,  I see.” 

There  was  silence  between  them.  Lizzie,  with  a 
drooping  head,  glanced  down  at  the  glow  in  the  fire 
where  her  first  fancies  had  been  nursed,  and  her  first 
escape  made  from  the  grijn  life  out  of  which  she  had 
plucked  her  brother,  foreseeing  her  reward. 

^Wou  know  all  now,”  she  said,  raising  her  eyes  to 
Bella’s.  There  is  nothing  left  out.  This  is  my  reason 
for  living  secret  here,  with  the  aid  of  a good  old  man 
who  is  my  true  friend.  For  a short  part  of  my  life  at 
home  with  father,  I knew  of  things — don’t  ask  me 
what — that  I set  my  face  against  and  tried  to  better.  I 
don’t  think  I could  have  done  more,  then,  without  let- 
ting my  hold  on  father  go;  but  they  sometimes  lie 
heavy  on  my  mind.  By  doing  all  for  the  best,  I hope  I 
may  wear  them  out.” 

"^And  wear  out  too,”  said  Bella  soothingly,  ^This  weak- 
ness, Lizzie,  in  favour  of  one  who  is  not  worthy  of  it.” 

No.  I don’t  want  to  wear  that  out,”  was  the  flushed 
reply,  ^^nor  do  I want  to  believe,  nor  do  I believe,  that 
he  is  not  worthy  of  it.  What  should  I gain  by  that, 
and  how  much  should  I lose?” 

Bella’s  expressive  little  eyebrows  remonstrated  with 
the  fire  for  some  short  time  before  she  rejoined: 

Don’t  think  that  I press  you,  Lizzie;  but  wouldn’t 
you  gain  in  peace,  and  hope,  and  even  in  freedom? 
Wouldn’t  it  be  better  not  to  live  a secret  life  in  hiding, 
and  not  to  be  shut  out  from  your  natural  and  whole- 
some prospects?  Forgive  my  asking  you,  would  that 
be  no  gain?” 

Does  a woman’s  heart  that — that  has  that  weak- 
ness in  it  which  you  have  spoken  of,”  returned  Lizzie, 
^^seek  to  gain  anything  ?” 

The  question  was  so  directly  at  variance  with  Bella’s 
views  in  life,  as  set  forth  to  her  father,  that  she  said 
internally,  There,  you  little  mercenary  wretch!  Do 
you  hear  that?  Ain’t  you  ashamed  of  yourself?”  and 
unclasped  the  girdle  of  her  arms,  expressly  to  give  her- 
self a penitential  poke  in  the  side. 

^^But  you  said,  Lizzie,”  observed  Bella,  returning  to 
her  subject  when  she  had  administered  this  chastise- 


116 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


merit,  that  you  would  lose,  besides.  Would  you  mind 
telling  me  what  you  would  lose,  Lizzie?” 

I should  lose  some  of  the  best  recollections,  best 
encouragements,  and  best  objects,  that  I carry  through 
my  daily  life.  I should  lose  my  belief  that  if  I had  been 
his  equal,  and  he  had  loved  me,  I should  have  tried 
with  all  my  might  to  make  him  better  and  happier,  as 
he  would  have  made  me.  L should  lose  almost  all  the 
value  that  I put  upon  the  little  learning  I have,  which 
is  all  owing  to  him,  and  which  I conquered  the  difficul- 
ties of,  that  he  might  not  think  it  thrown  away  upon 
me.  I should  lose  a kind  of  picture  of  him — or  of 
what  he  might  have  been,  if  I had  been  a lady,  and  he 
had  loved  me — which  is  always  with  me,  and  which  I 
somehow  feel  that  I could  not  do  a mean  or  a wrong 
thing  before.  I should  leave  olf  prizing  the  remem- 
brance that  he  had  done  me  nothing  but  good  since  I 
have  known  him,  and  that  he  has  made  a change  within 
me,  like — like  the  change  in  the  grain  of  these  hands^ 
which  were  coarse,  and  cracked,  and  hard,  and  brown 
when  I rowed  on  the  river  with  father,  and  are  softened 
and  made  supple  by  this  new  work,  as  you  see  them 
now.” 

They  trembled,  but  with  no  weakness,  as  she  showed 
them. 

Understand  me,  my  dear;”  thus  she  went  on, 
have  never  dreamed  of  the  possibility  of  his  being  any- 
thing to  ifie  on  this  earth  but  the  kind  of  picture  that  I 
know  I could  not  make  you  understand,  if  the  under- 
standing was  not  in  your  own  breast  already.  I have 
no  more  dreamed  of  the  possibility  of  my  being  his  wife 
than  he  ever  has — and  words  could  not  be  stronger  than 
that.  And  yet  I love  him.  I love  him  so  much,  and  so 
dearly,  that  when  I sometimes  think  my  life  may  be 
but  a weary  one,  I am  proud  of  it  and  glad  of  it.  I am 
proud  and  glad  to  suffer  something  for  him,  even  though 
it  is  of  no  service  to  him,  and  he  will  never  know  of  it 
or  care  for  it.” 

Bella  sat  enchained  by  the  deep,  unselfish  passion  of 
this  girl  or  woman  of  her  own  age,  courageously  re- 
vealing itself  in  the  confidence  of  her  sympathetic  per- 
ception of  its  truth.  And  yet  she  had  never  expe- 
rienced anything  like  it,  or  thought  of  the  existence  of 
anything  like  it. 


SUBJECT  OF  A PREDICTION. 


117 


It  was  late  upon  a wretched  night/’ said  Lizzie, 

when  his  eyes  first  looked  at  me  in  my  old  river-side 
home,  very  different  from  this.  His  eyes  may  never 
look  at  me  again.  I would  rather  that  they  never  did  ; 
I hope  that  they  never  may.  But  I would  not  have  the 
light  of  them  taken  out  of  my  life  for  anything  my  life 
can  give  me.  I have  told  you  everything  now,  my  dear. 
If  it  comes  a little  strange  to  me  to  have  parted  with  it, 
I am  not  sorry.  I had  no  thought  of  ever  parting  with 
a single  word  of  it,  a moment  before  you  came  in  ; but 
you  came  in,  and  my  mind  changed.” 

Bella  kissed  her  on  the  cheek,  and  thanked  her  warmly 
for  her  confidence.  I only  wish,”  said  Bella,  ‘‘1  was 
more  deserving  of  it.” 

^^More  deserving  of  it  ! ” repeated  Lizzie,  with  an  in- 
credulous smile. 

I don’t  mean  in  respect  of  keeping  it,”  said  Bella, 
‘^because  any  one  should  tear  me  to  bits  before  getting 
at  a syllable  of  it — though  there’s  no  merit  in  that,  for 
I am  naturally  as  obstinate  as  a Pig.  What  I mean  is, 
Lizzie,  that  I am  a mere  impertinent  piece  of  conceit, 
and  you  shame  me.” 

Lizzie  put  up  the  pretty  brown  hair  that  came  tumb- 
ling down,  owing  to  the  energy  with  which  Bella  shook 
her  head ; and  she  remonstrated  while  thus  engaged, 

My  dear  ! ” 

^^Oh!  it’s  all  very  well  to  call  me  your  dear,”  said 
Bella,  with  a pettish  whimper,  ^^and  I am  glad  to  be 
called  so,  though  I have  slight  enough  claim  to  be.  But 
I AM  such  a nasty  little  thing  ! ” 

My  dear  !”  urged  Lizzie  again. 

Such  a shallow,  cold,  worldly.  Limited  little  brute!  ” 
said  Bella,  bringing  out  her  last  adjective  with  culminat- 
ing force. 

Do  you  think,”  inquired  Lizzie,  with  her  quiet  smile, 
the  hair  being  now  secured,  that  I don’t  know  better  ? ” 

Do  you  know  better  though?  ” said  Bella.  Do  you 
really  believe  you  know  better  ? Oh,  I should  be  so 
glad  if  you  did  know  better,  but  I am  so  very  much 
afraid  that  I must  know  best.” 

Lizzie  asked  her,  laughing  outright,  whether  she  ever 
saw  her  own  face  or  heard  her  own  voice  ? 

I suppose  so,”  returned  Bella  ; look  in  the  glass 
often  enough,  and  I chatter  like  a Magpie.” 


118 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


“ I have  seen  your  face,  and  heard  your  voice,  at  any 
rate,”  said  Lizzie,  “and  they  have  tempted  me  to  say  to 
you — with  a certainty  of  not  going  wrong — what  I 
thought  I should  never  say  to  any  one.  Does  that  look 
ill  ? ” 

“ No,  I hope  it  doesn’t,”  pouted  Bella,  stopping  her- 
self in  something  between  a humoured  laugh  and  a 
humoured  sob. 

“ I used  once  to  see  pictures  in  the  fire,”  said  Lizzie, 
playfully,  “ to  please  my  brother.  Shall  I tell  you  what 
I see  down  there  where  “the  fire  is  glowing  ?” 

They  had  risen,  and  were  standing  on  the  hearth,  the 
time  being  come  for  separating  ; each  had  drawn  an 
arm  around  the  other  to  take  leave. 

“ Shall  I tell  you,”  asked  Lizzie,  “what  I see  down 
there  ? ” 

“ Limited  little  b ? ” suggested  Bella  with  her  eye- 
brows raised. 

“'A  heart  well  worth  winning,  and  well  won.  A 
heart  that,  once  won,  goes  through  fire  and  water  for 
the  winner,  and  never  changes,  and  is  never  daunted.” 

“Girl’s  heart?”  asked  Bella,  with  accompanying 
eyebrows. 

Lizzie  nodded.  “And  the  figure  to  which  it  be- 
longs  ” 

“ Is  yours,”  suggested  Bella. 

“ No.  Most  clearly  and  distinctly  yours.” 

So  the  interview  terminated  with  pleasant  words  on 
both  sides,  and  with  many  reminders  on  the  part  of 
Bella  that  they  were  friends,  and  pledges  that  she 
would  soon  come  down  into  that  part  of  the  country 
again.  Therewith  Lizzie  returned  to  her  occupation, 
and  Bella  ran  over  to  the  little  inn  to  rejoin  her  com- 
pany. 

“You  look  rather  serious.  Miss  Wilfer,”  was  the 
Secretary’s  first  remark. 

“ I feel  rather  serious,”  returned  Miss  Wilfer. 

She  had  nothing  else  to  tell  but  that  Lizzie  Hexam’s 
secret  had  no  reference  whatever  to  the  cruel  charge, 
or  its  withdrawal.  Oh  yes,  though  ! said  Bella  ; she 
might  as  well  mention  one  other  thing ; Lizzie  was 
very  desirous  to  thank  her  unknown  friend  who  had 
sent  her  the  written  retraction.  Was  she  indeed  ? ob- 
served the  Secretary.  Ah  ! Bella  asked  him,  had  he 


SUBJECT  OF  A PREDICTION. 


119 


any  notion  who  that  unknown  friend  might  be  ? He  had 
no  notion  whatever. 

They  were  on  the  borders  of  Oxfordshire,  so  far  had 
poor  old  Betty  Higden  strayed.  They  were  to  return 
by  the  train  presently,  and,  the  station  being  near  at 
hand,  the  Reverend  Frank  and  Mrs.  Frank,  and  Sl(mpy 
and  Bella  and  the  Secretary,  set  out  to  walk  to  it.  Few 
rustic  paths  are  wide  enough  for  five,  and  Bella  and  the 
Secretary  dropped  behind. 

“ Can  you  believe,  Mr.  Rokesmith,’’  said  Bella,  ^^that 
I feel  us  if  whole  years  had  passed  since  I went  into 
Lizzie  Hexam’s  cottage  ? ” 

We  have  crowded  a good  deal  into  the  day,”  he  re- 
turned, and  you  were  much  affected  in  the  church- 
yard. You  are  over-tired.” 

No,  I am  not  at  all  tired.  I have  not  quite  expressed 
what  I mean.  I don’t  mean  that  I feel  as  if  a great 
space  of  time  had  gone  by,  but  that  I feel  as  if  much 
had  happened — to  myself,  you  know.” 

^'For  good,  I hope?” 

I hope  so,”  said  Bella. 

^Wou  are  cold;  I felt  you  tremble.  Pray  let  me  put 
this  wrapper  of  mine  about  you.  May  I fold  it  over 
this  shoulder  without  injuring  your  dress?  Now,  it  will 
be  too  heavy  and  too  long.  Let  me  carry  this  end  over 
my  arm,  as  you  have  no  arm  to  give  me.” 

Yes  she  had  though.  How  she  got  it  out,  in  her 
muffled  state  Heaven  knows  ; but  she  got  it  out  some- 
how— there  it  was — and  slipped  it  through  the  Secre- 
tary’s. 

I have  had  a long  and  interesting  talk  with  Lizzie, 
Mr.  Rokesmith,  and  she  gave  me  her  full  confidence.” 

She  could  not  withhold  it,”  said  the  Secretary. 

‘^I  wonder  how  you  come,”  said  Bella,  stopping  short 
as  she  glanced  at  him,  ^^to  say  to  me  just  what  she 
said  about  it  ! ” 

I infer  that  it  must  be  because  I feel  just  as  she  felt 
about  it.” 

And  how  was  that,  do  you  mean  to  say,  sir  ? ” asked 
Bella,  moving  again. 

That  if  you  were  inclined  to  win  her  confidence — 
anybody’s  confidence — you  were  sure  to  do  it.” 

The  railway,  at  this  point,  knowingly  shutting  a 
green  eye  and  opening  a red  one,  they  had  to  run  for  it. 


120 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


As  Bella  could  not  run  easily  so  wrapped  up,  the  Sec- 
retary had  to  help  her.  When  she  took  her  opposite 
place  in  the  carriage  corner,  the  brightness  in  her  face 
was  so  charming  to  behold,  that  on  her  exclaiming, 

What  beautiful  stars  and  what  a glorious  night  !” 
the  Secretary  said  ^Wes,’’  but  seemed  to  prefer  to  see 
the  night  and  the  stars  in  the  light  of  her  lovely  little 
countenance  to  looking  out  of  window. 

Oh,  boofer  lady,  fascinating  boofer  lady  ! If  I were  but 
legally  executor  of  Johnny’s  will  ! If  I had  but  the 
right  to  pay  your  legacy  and  to  take  your  receipt! — 
Something  to  this  purpose  surely  mingled  with  the 
blast  of  the  train  as  it  cleared  the  stations,  all  know- 
ingly shutting  up  their  green  eyes  and  opening  their 
red  ones  when  they  prepared  to  let  the  boofer  lady  pass. 


CHAPTER  X. 

SCOUTS  OUT. 

A ND  so.  Miss  Wren,”  said  Mr.  Eugene  Wray.burn, 
''  I cannot  persuade  you  to  dress  me  a doll  ?” 

'^No.”  replied  Miss  Wren  snappishly;  ''if  you  want 
one,  go  and  buy  one  at  the  shop.” 

" And  my  charming  young  goddaughter,”  said  Mr. 
Wrayburn  plaintively,  "down  in  Hertfordshire ” 

("  Humbugshire  you  mean,  I think,”  interposed  Miss 
Wren.) 

" — Is  to  be  put  upon  the  cold  footing  of  the  general 
public,  and  is  to  derive  no  advantage  from  my  private 
acquaintance  with  the  Court  Dressmaker  ? ” 

" If  it’s  any  advantage  to  your  charming  godchild — 
and  oh,  a precious  godfather  she  has  got  ! ” — replied 
Miss  Wren,  pricking  at  him  in  the  air  with  her  needle, 
"to  be  informed  that  the  Court  Dressmaker  knows  your 
tricks  and  your  manners,  you  may  tell  her  so  by  post, 
with  my  compliments.” 

Miss  Wren  was  busy  at  her  work  by  candle-light,  and 
Mr.  Wrayburn,  half  amused- and  half  vexed,  and  all 
idle  and  shiftless,  stood  by  her  bench  looking  on.  Miss 
Wren’s  troublesome  child  was  in  the  corner  in  deepdis- 


SCOUTS  OUT. 


121 


grace,  and  exhibiting  great  wretchedness  in  the  shiver- 
ing stage  of  prostration  from  drink. 

Ugh,  you  disgraceful  boy  exclaimed  Miss  Wren, 
attracted  by  the  sound  of  his  chattering  teeth,  I wish 
they’d  all  drop  down  your  throat  and  play  at  dice  in 
your  stomach  ! Boh,  wicked  child ! Bee-baa,  black 
sheep  ! ” 

On  her  accompanying  each  of  these  reproaches  with 
a threatening  stamp  of  the  foot,  the  wretched  creature 
protested  with  a whine. 

‘^Pay  five  shillings  for  you,  indeed  !”  Miss  Wren  pro- 
ceeded ; how  many  hours  do  you  suppose  it  costs  mo 
to  earn  five  shillings,  you  infamous  boy  ? — Don’t  cry 
like  that,  or  I’ll  throw  a doll  at  you.  Pay  five  shillings 
fine  for  you,  indeed  ! Fine  in  more  wa.ys  than  one,  I 
think  ! I’d  give  the  dustman  five  shillings,  to  carry  you 
off  in  the  dust-cart.” 

^^No,  no,”  pleaded  the  absurd  creature.  Please  !’ 

He’s  enough  to  break  his  mother’s  heart,  is  this  boy,” 
said  Miss  Wren,  half  appealing*  to  Eugene.  I wish  I 
had  never  brought  him  up.  He’d  be  sharper  than  a 
serpent’s  tooth,  if  he  wasn’t  as  dull  as  ditch  water. 
Look  at  him.  There’s  a pretty  object  for  a parent’s 
eyes  ! ” 

Assuredly,  in  his  worse  than  swinish  state  (for  swine 
at  least  fatten  on  their  guzzling,  and  make  themselves 
good  to  eat),  he  was  a pretty  object  for  any  eyes. 

muddling  and  a swipey  old  child,”  said  Miss 
Wren,  rating  him  with  great  severity,  '^fit  for  nothing 
but  to  be  preserved  in  the  liquor  that  destroys  him, 
and  put  in  a great  glass  bottle  as  a sight  for  other 
swipey  children  of  his  own  pattern, — if  he  has  no  con- 
sideration for  his  liver,  has  he  none  for  his  mother?” 

'Wes.  Deration,  oh,  don’t!  ” cried  the  object  of  these 
angry  remarks. 

" Oh,  don’t,  and  oh,  don’t,”  pursued  Miss  Wren.  ''  It's 
oh,  do,  and  oh,  do  ! And  why  do  you  ?” 

" Won’t  you  do  any  more.  Won’t  inaeed.  Pray!  ” 

" There,”  said  Miss  Wren,  covering  her  eyes  with  her 
hand.  ''  I can’t  bear  to  look  at  you.  Go  up  stairs  and 
get  me  my  bonnet  and  shawl.  Make  yourself  useful  in 
some  way,  bad  boy,  and  let  me  have  your  room  instead 
of  your  company  for  one-half  minute.” 

Obeying  her,  he  shambled  out,  and  Eugene  Wray- 


122 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


burn  saw  the  tears  exude  from  between  the  little  creat- 
ure’s fingers  as  she  kept  her  hand  before  her  eyes.  He 
was  sorry,  but  his  sympathy  did  not  move  his  careless- 
ness to  do  anything  but  feel  sorry. 

I’m  going  to  the  Italian  Opera  to  try  on,”  said  Miss 
Wren,  taking  away  her  hand  after  a little  while,  and 
laughing  satirically  to  hide  that  she  had  been  crying; 

I must  see  your  back  before  I go,  Mr.  Wrayburn.  Let 
me  first  tell  you,  once  for  all,  that  it’s  of  no  use  your 
paying  visits  to  me.  You  wouldn’t  get  what  you  want 
of  me,  no,  not  if  you  brought  pincers  with  you  to  tear 
it  out.” 

Are  you  so  obstinate  on  the  subject  of  a doll’s  dress 
for  my  godchild?” 

Ah!  ” returned  Miss  Wren  with  a hitch  of  her  chin, 
am  so  obstinate.  And  of  course  it’s  on  the  subject 
of  a doll’s  dress — or  address — v/hichever  you  like.  Get 
along  and  give  it  up.” 

Her  degraded  charge  had  come  back,  and  was  stand- 
ing behind  her  with  the  bonnet  and  shawl. 

Give  ’ em  to  me  and  get  back  into  your  corner,  you 
naughty  old  thing  I ” said  Miss  Wren,  as  she  turned  and 
espied  him.  ^‘^No,  no,  I won’t  have  your  help.  Go  into 
your  corner,  this  minute  ! ” 

The  miserable  man,  feebly  rubbing  the  back  of  his 
faltering  hands  downwards  from  the  wrists,  shuffled  on 
to  his  post  of  disgrace  ; but  not  without  a curious  glance 
at  Eugene  in  passing  him,  accompanied  with  what 
seemed  as  if  it  might  have  been  an  action  of  his  elbow, 
if  any  action  of  any  limb  or  joint  he  had,  would  have 
answered  truly  to  his  will.  Taking  no  more  particular 
notice  of  him  than  instinctively  falling  away  from  the 
disagreeable  contact,  Eugene,  with  a lazy  compliment 
or  so  to  Miss  Wren,  begged  leave  to  light  his  cigar  and 
departed. 

Now  you  prodigal  old  son,”  said  Jenny,  shaking  her 
head  and  her  emphatic  little  forefinger  at  her  burden, 
^‘you  sit  there  till  I come  back.  You  dare  to  move  out 
of  your  corner  for  a single  instant  while  I’m  gone,  and 
I’ll  know  the  reason  why.” 

With  this  admonition,  she  blew  her  work  candles  out, 
leaving  him  to  the  light  of  the  fire,  and  taking  her  big 
door-key  in  her  pocket  and  her  crutch-stick  in  her  hand, 
marched  off. 


SCOUTS  OUT. 


m 


Eugene  lounged  slowly  toward  the  Temple,  smoking 
his  cigar,  but  saw  no  more  of  the  dolFs  dressmaker. 
Through  the  accident  of  their  taking  opposite  sides  of 
the  street.  He  lounged  along  moodily,  and  stopped  at 
Charing  Cross  to  look  about  him,  with  as  little  interest 
in  the  crowd  as  any  man  might  take,  and  was  lounging 
on  again,  when  a most  unexpected  object  caught  his 
eyes.  No  less  an  object  than  Jenny  Wren’s  bad  boy 
trying  to  make  up  his  mind  to  cross  the  road. 

A more  ridiculous  and  feeble  spectacle  than  this  tot- 
tering wretch  making  unsteady  sallies  into  the  roadway, 
and  as  often  staggering  back  again,  oppressed  by  terrors 
of  vehicles  that  were  a long  way  off,  or  were  nowhere, 
the  streets  could  not  have  shown.  Over  and  over 
again,  when  the  course  was  perfectly  clear,  he  set  out, 
got  half  way,  described  a loop,  turned,  and  went  back 
again,  when  he  might  have  crossed  and  re-crossed  half 
a dozen  times.  Then,  he  would  stand  shivering  on  the 
edge  of  the  pavement,  looking  up  the  street  and  looking 
down,  while  scores  of  people  jostled  him,  and  crossed, 
and  went  on.  Stimulated  in  course  of  time  by  the  sight 
of  so  many  successes,  he  would  make  another  sally, 
make  another  loop,  would  all  but  have  his  foot  on  the 
opposite  pavement,  would  see  or  imagine  something 
coming,  and  would  stagger  back  again.  There  he  would 
stand.making  spasmodic  preparations  as  if  for  a great 
leap,  and  at  last  would  decide  on  a start  at  precisely  the 
wrong  moment,  and  would  be  roared  at  by  drivers,  and 
would  shrink  back  once  more,  and  stand  in  the  old  spot 
shivering,  with  the  whole  of  the  proceedings  to  go 
through  again. 

^^It  strikes  me,”  remarked  Eugene  coolly,  after 
watching  him  for  some  minutes,  ''that  my  friend  is 
likely  to  be  rather  behind  time  if  he  has  any  appoint- 
ment on  hand.”  With  which  remark  he  strolled  on 
and  took  no  further  thought  of  him. 

Lightwood  was  at  home  when  he  got  to  the  Chambers, 
and  had  dined  alone  there.  Eugene  drew  a chair  to 
the  fire  by  which  he  was  having  his  wine  and  reading 
the  evening  paper,  and  brought  a glass,  and  filled  it 
for  good-fellowship’s  sake. 

"My  dear  Mortimer,  you  are  the  express  picture  of 
contented  industry,  reposing  (on  credit)  after  the  virtu- 
ous labours  of  the  day.” 


124 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


“ My  dear  Eugene,  you  are  the  express  picture  of  (dis- 
contented idleness  not  reposing  at  all.  Where  have 
you  been?” 

'^1  have  been,”  replied  Wrayburn,  — about  town.  I 
have  turned  up  at  the  present  juncture,  with  the  in- 
tention of  consulting  my  highly  intelligent  and  re- 
spected solicitor  on  the  position  of  my  affairs.” 

Your  highly  intelligent  and  respected  solicitor  is  of 
opinion  that  your  affairs  are  in  a bad  way,  Eugene.” 

‘^Though  whether,”  said  Eugene  thoughtfully,  ‘^that 
can  be  intelligently  said,  now,  of  the  affairs  of  a client 
who  has  nothing  to  lose  and  who  cannot  possibly  be 
made  to  pay,  may  be  open  to  question.” 

'•You  have  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Jews, 
Eugene.” 

My  dear  boy,”  returned  the  debtor,  very  composedly 
taking  up  his  glass,  having  previously  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  some  of  the  Christians,  I can  bear  it  with 
philosophy.” 

have  had  an  interview  to-day,  Eugene,  with  a 
Jew,  who  seems  determined  to  press  us  hard.  Quite  a 
Shylock,  and  quite  a Patriarch.  A picturesque  grey- 
hea.ded  and  grey-bearded  old  Jew,  in  a shovel-hat  and 
gaberdine.” 

^^Not,”  said  Eugene,  pausing  in  setting  down  his 
glass,  surely  not  my  worthy  friend  Mr.  Aaron?  V 

‘'^He  calls  himself  Mr.  Riah.” 

By-the-bye,”  said  Eugene,  ''it  comes  into  my  mind 
that — no  doubt  with  an  instinctive  desire  to  receive  him 
into  the  bosom  of  our  Church — I gave  him  the  name  of 
Aaron ! ” 

Eugene,  Eugene,”  returned  Light  wood,  ^‘you  are 
more  ridiculous  than  usual.  Say  what  you  mean.” 

'^Merely,  my  dear  fellow,  that  I have  the  honour  and 
pleasure  of  a speaking  acquaintance  with  such  a Patri- 
arch as  you  describe,  and  that  I address  him  as  Mr. 
Aaron,  because  it  appears  to  me  Hebraic,  expressive,  ap- 
propriate, and  complimentary.  Notwithstanding  which 
strong  reasons  for  its  being  bis  name,  it  may  not  be  his 
name.” 

"1  believe  you  are  the  absurdest  man  on  the  face  of 
the  earth,”  said  Lightwood,  laughing. 

‘'Not  at  all,  I assure  you.  Did  he  mention  that  he 
knew  me?” 


SCOUTS  OUT. 


125 


He  did  not.  He  only  said  of  you  that  he  expected  to 
be  paid  by  you.” 

Which  looks,”  remarked  Eugene  with  much  gravity, 

like  not  knowing  me.  I hope  it  may  not  be  my  worthy 
friend  Mr.  Aaron,  for,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  Mortimer,  I 
doubt  he  may  have  a prepossession  against  me.  I 
strongly  suspect  him  of  having  had  a hand  in  spiriting 
away  Lizzie.” 

Everything,”  returned  .Lightwood  impatiently, 

seems,  by  a fatality,  to  bring  us  round  to  Lizzie. 

^ About  town’  meant  about  Lizzie  just  now,  Eugene.” 

‘^My  solicitor,  do  you  know,”  observed  Eugene,  turn- 
ing round  to  the  furniture,  ^4s  a man  of  definite  dis- 
cernment!” 

^^Did  it  not,  Eugene?” 

^Wes  it  did,  Mortimer.” 

^^And  yet,  Eugene,  you  know  you  do  not  really  care 
for  her.” 

Eugene  Wrayburn  rose,  and  put  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  and  stood  with  a foot  on  the  fender,  indolently 
rocking  his  body,  and  lojoking  at  the  fire.  After 
a prolonged  pause,  he  replied:  I don’t  know  that. 
I must  ask  you  not  to  say  that,  as  if  we  took  it  for 
granted.” 

^^But  if  you  do  care  for  her,  so  much  the  more  should 
you  leave  her  to  herself.” 

Having  again  paused  as  before,  Eugene  said:  I don’t 
know  that,  either.  But  tell  me.  Did  you  ever  see  me 
take  so  much  trouble  about  anything,  as  about  this  dis- 
appearance of  hers?  I ask  for  information.” 

''  My  dear  Eugene,  I wish  I ever  had  I ” 

Then  you  have  not  ? Just  so.  You  confirm  my  own 
impression.  Does  that  look  as  if  I cared  for  her  ? I ask 
for  information.” 

asked  for  information,  Eugene,”  said  Mortimer 
reproachfully. 

Dear  boy,  I know  it,  but  I can’t  give  it.  I thirst  for 
information.  What  do  I mean  ? If  my  taking  so  much 
trouble  to  recover  her  does  not  mean  that  I care  for  her, 
what  does  it  mean  ? ^ If  Peter  Piper  picked  a peck  of 
pickled  pepper,  where’s  the  peck,’  &c.  ?” 

Though  he  said  this  gaily,  he  said  it  with  a perplexed 
and  inquisitive  face,  as  if  he  actually  did  not  know 
what  to  make  of  himself.  Look  on  to  the  end — ” 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


1 20 

Lightwood  was  beginning  to  remonstrate,  when  he 
caught  at  the  words: 

Ah  ! See  now  ! That’s  exactly  what  I am  incapable 
of  doing.  How  very  acute  you  are,  Mortimer,  in  find- 
ing my  weak  place  ! When  we  were  at  school  together, 
I got  up  my  lessons  at  the  last  moment,  day  by  day  and 
bit  by  bit;  now  we  are  out  in  life  together,  I get  up  my 
lessons  in  the  same  way.  In  the  present  task  I have 
not  got  beyond  this: — I am  bent  on  finding  Lizzie,  and 
I mean  to  find  her,  and  I will  take  any  means  of  finding 
her  that  offer  themselves.  Fair  means  or  foul  means 
are  all  like  to  me.  I ask  you — for  information — what 
does  that  mean  ? When  I have  found  her  I may  ask  you 
— also  for  information — what  do  I mean  now  ? But  it 
would  be  premature  in  this  stage,  and  it’s  not  the  char- 
acter of  my  mind.” 

Lightwood  was  shaking  his  head  over  the  air  with 
which  his  friend  held  forth  thus — an  air  so  whimsically 
open  and  argumentative  as  almost  to  deprive  what  he 
said  of  the  appearance  of  evasion — when  a shuffling  was 
heard  at  the  outer  door,  and^then  an  undecided  knock,  as 
though  some  hand  were  groping  for  the  knocker.  The 
frolicsome  youth  of  the  neighbourhood,”  said  Eugene, 

whom  I should  be  delighted  to  pitch  from  this  eleva- 
tion into  the  churchyard  below,  without  any  interme- 
diate ceremonies,  have  probably  turned  the  lamp  out.  I 
am  on  duty  to-night,  and  will  see  to  the  door.” 

His  friend  had  barely  had  time  to  recall  the  unprec- 
edented gleam  of  determination  with  which  he  had 
spoken  of  finding  this  girl,  and  which  had  faded  out  of 
him  with  the  breath  of  the  spoken  words,  when  Eugene 
came  back,  ushering  in  a most  disgraceful  shadow  of  a 
man,  shaking  from  head  to  foot,  and  clothed  in  shabby 
grease  and  smear. 

This  interesting  gentleman,”  said  Eugene,  ^^is  the 
son — the  occasionally  rather  trying  son,  for  he  has  his 
failings — of  a lady  of  my  acquaintance.  My  dear  Mor- 
timer— Mr.  Dolls.”  Eugene  had  no  idea  what  his  name 
was,  knowing  the  little  dressmaker’s  to  be  assumed, 
but  presented  him  with  easy  confidence  under  the  first 
appellation  that  his  associations  suggested. 

‘‘I  gather,  my  dear  Mortimer,”  pursued  Eugene,  as 
Lightwood  stared  at  the  obscene  visitor,  from  the 
manner  of  Mr.  Dolls — which  is  occasionally  complicated 


SCOUTS  OUT, 


127 


— that  he  desires  to  make  some  communication  to  me. 
I have  mentioned  to  Mr.  Dolls  that  you  and  I are  on 
terms  of  confidence,  and  have  requested  Mr.  Dolls  to 
develop  his  views  here.’' 

The  wretched  object  being  much  embarrassed  by  hold- 
ing what  remained  of  his  hat,  Eugene  airily  tossed  it 
to  the  door,  and  put  him  down  in  a chair. 

It  will  be  necessary,  I think,”  he  observed,  to  wind 
up  Mr.  Dolls,  before  anything  to  any  mortal  purpose 

can  be  got  out  of  him.  Brandy,  Mr.  Dolls,  or ? ” 

Three-peniTorth  Rum,”  said  Mr.  Dolls. 

A judiciously  small  quantity  of  the  spirit  was  given 
him  in  a wine-glass,  and  he  began  to  convey  it  to  his 
mouth,  with  all  kinds  of  falterings  and  gyrations  on 
the  road. 

^^The  nerves  of  Mr.  Dolls,”  remarked  Eugene  to 
Lightwood,  are  considerably  unstrung.  And  I deem 
it  on  the  whole  expedient  to  fumigate  Mr.  Dolls.” 

He  took  the  shovel  from  the  grate,  sprinkled  a few 
live  ashes  on  it,  and  from  a box  on  the  chimney-piece 
took  a few  pastiles,  which  he  set  upon  them;  then, 
with  great  composure  began  placidly  waving  the 
shovel  in  front  of  Mr.  Dolls,  to  cut  him  off  from  his 
company. 

^^Lord  bless  my  soul,  Eugene,”  cried  Lightwood, 
laughing  again,  ‘^what  a mad  fellow  you  are!  Why 
does  this  creature  come  to  see  you  ? ” 

We  shall  hear,”  said  Wrayburn,  very  observant  of 
his  face  withal.  Now  then.  Speak  out.  Don’t  be 
afraid.  State  your  business,  Dolls.” 

Mist  Wrayburn!”  said  the  visitor,  thickl}^  and  husk- 
ily. — ^Tis  Mist  Wrayburn,  ain’t?”  With  a stupid 
stare. 

Of  course  it  is.  Look  at  me.  What  do  you  want?  ” 

Mr.  Dolls  collapsed  in  his  chair,  and  faintly  said, 
‘^Three-penn’orth  Rum.” 

“Will  you  do  me  the  favour,  my  dear  Mortimer,  to 
wind  up  Mr.  Dolls  again?”  said  Eugene.  “ I am  occu- 
pied with  the  fumigation.” 

A similar  quantity  was  poured  into  his  glass,  and  he 
got  it  to  his  lips  by  similar  circuitous  ways.  Having 
drunk  it,  Mr.  Dolls,  with  an  evident  fear  of  running 
down  again  unless  he  made  haste,  proceeded  to  busi- 
ness. 


12S 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


^^Mist  Wrayburn.  Tried  to  nudge  you,  but  you 
wouldn’t.  You  want  that  direction.  You  want  t’know 
where  she  lives.  Do  you  Mist  Wrayburn?  ” 

With  a glance  at  his  friend,  Eugene  replied  to  the 
question  sternly,  ''I  do.’' 

am  er  man,”  said  Mr.  Dolls,  trying  to  smite  him- 
self on  the  breast,  but  bringing  his  hand  to  bear  upon 
the  vicinity  of  his  eye,  ^^er  do  it.  I am  er  man  er  do 
it.” 

^AYhat  are  you  the  man  to  do?”  demanded  Eugene, 
still  sternly. 

Er  give  up  that  direction.” 

Have  you  got  it?  ” 

With  a most  laborious  attempt  at  pride  and  dignity, 
Mr.  Dolls  rolled  his  head  for  some  time,  awakening  the 
highest  expectations,  and  then  answered,  as  if  it  were 
the  happiest  point  that  could  possibly  be  expected  of 
him:  No.” 

What  do  you  mean,  then?” 

Mr.  Dolls,  collapsing  in  the  drowsiest  manner  after 
his  late  intellectual  triumph,  replied:  Three-penn’orth 
Rum.” 

Wind  him  up  again,  my  dear  Mortimer,”  said  Wray- 
burn; wind  him  up  again.” 

Eugene,  Eugene,”  urged  Lightwood  in  a low  voice, 
as  he  complied,  ^^can  you  stoop  to  the  use  of  such  an 
instrument  as  this  ? ” 

I said,”  was  the  reply,  made  with  that  former  gleam 
of  determination,  ^^that  I would  find  her  out  by  any 
means,  fair  or  foul.  These  are  foul,  and  I’ll  take  them — 
if  I am  not  first  tempted  to  break  the  head  of  Mr.  Dolls 
with  the  fumigator.  Can  you  get  the  direction?  Do 
you  mean  that?  Speak!  If  that’s  what  you  have  come 
for,  say  how  much  you  want.” 

^‘Ter  shillings — Three-penn’orths  Rum,”  said  Mr. 
Dolls. 

'Wou  shall  have  it.” 

Fifteen  shillings — Three-penn’orths  Rum,”  said  Mr. 
Dolls,  making  an  attempt  to  stiffen  himself. 

'•You  shall  have  it.  Stop  at  that.  How  will  you  get 
the  direction  you  talk  of?” 

"I  am  er  man,”  said  Mr.  Dolls  with  majesty,  " erget 
it,  sir.” 

" How  will  you  get  it,  I ask  you?” 


SCOUTS  OUT. 


129 


I am  ill-used  vidual/’  said  Mr.  Dolls.  Blown  up 
morning  t’night.  Called  names.  She  makes  Mint 
money,  sir,  and  never  stands  Three-penn’orth  Rum.” 

‘'Get  on,”  rejoined  Eugene,  tapping  his  palsied  head 
with  the  fire-shovel,  as  it  sank  on  his  breast.  “ What 
comes  next?” 

Making  a dignified  attempt  to  gather  himself  to- 
gether, but,  as  it  were,  dropping  half  a dozen  pieces  of 
himself  while  he  tried  in  vain  to  pick  up  one,  Mr.  Dolls, 
swaying  his  head  from  side  to  side,  regarded  his  ques- 
tioner with  what  he  supposed  to  be  a haughty  smile  and 
a scornful  glance. 

“ She  looks  upon  me  as  mere  child,  sir.  I am  not 
mere  child,  sir.  Man  talent.  Lerrers  pass  betwixt  ’em. 
Postman  lerrers.  Easy  for  man  talent  er  get  drection, 
as  get  his  own  drection.” 

“Get  it,  then,”  said  Eugene;  adding  very  heartily 
under  his  breath,  “ — You  Brute!  Get  it,  and  bring  it 
here  to  me,  and  earn  the  money  for  sixty  three- 
penn’orths  of  rum,  and  drink  them  all,  one  atop  of 
another,  and  drink  yourself  dead  with  all  possible  expe- 
dition.” The  latter  clauses  of  these  special  instructions 
he  addressed  to  the  fire,  as  he  gave  it  back  the  ashes  he 
had  taken  from  it,  and  replaced  the  shovel. 

Mr.  Dolls  now  struck  out  the  highly  unexpected  dis- 
coyery  that  he  had  been  insulted  by  Lightwood,  and 
stated  his  desire  to  “have  it  out  with  him”  on  the  spot, 
and  defied  him  to  come  on,  upon  the  liberal  terms  of  a 
sovereign  to  a halfpenny.  Mr.  Dolls  then  fell  a crying, 
and  then  exhibited  a tendency  to  fall  asleep.  This  last 
manifestation  as  by  far  the  most  alarming,  by  reason  of 
its  threatening  his  prolonged  stay  on  the  premises, 
necessitated  vigorous  measures.  Eugene  picked  up 
his  worn-out  hat  with  the  tongs,  clapped  it  on  his  head, 
and,  taking  him  by  the  collar — all  this  at  arm’s  length 
— conducted  him  down  stairs  and  out  of  the  precincts 
into  Fleet  Street.  There  he  turned  his  face  westward, 
and  left  him. 

When  he  got  back  Lightwood  was  standing  over  the 
fire,  brooding  in  a sufficiently  low-spirited  manner. 

“ I’ll  wash  my  hands  of  Mr.  Dolls — physically — ” said 
Eugene,  “and  be  with  you  again  directly,  Mortimer.” 

“ I would  much  prefer,”  retorted  Mortimer,  “your 
washing  your  hands  of  Mr.  Dolls,  morally,  Eugene.” 

VOL.  II.  9 


130 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


So  would  I/’  said  Eugene  ; ‘^but  you  see,  dear  boy, 
I can’t  do  without  him.” 

In  a minute  or  two  he  resumed  his  chair,  as  perfectly 
unconcerned  as  usual,  and  rallied  his  friend  on  hav- 
ing so  narrowly  escaped  the  prowess  of  their  mus- 
cular visitor. 

can’t  be  amused  on  this  theme,”  said  Mortimer 
restlessly.  You  can  make  almost  any  theme  amusing 
to  me,  Eugene,  but  not  this.” 

‘^‘^Well!”  cried  Eugene,  '^I  am  a little  ashamed  of 
it  myself,  and  therefore  let  us  change  the  subject.” 

It  is  so  deplorably  underhanded,”  said  Mortimer. 
‘•"It  is  so  unworthy  of  you,  this  setting  on  of  such  a 
shameful  scout.” 

‘‘We  have  changed  the  subject ! ” exclaimed  Eugene 
airily.  “We  have  found  a new  one  in  that  word,  scout. 
Don’t  be  like  Patience  on  a mantelpiece  frowning  at 
Dolls,  but  sit  down,  and  I’ll  tell  you  something  that  you 
really  will  find  amusing.  Take  a cigar.  Look  at  this 
of  mine.  I light  it — draw  one  puff— breathe  the  smoke 
out — there  it  goes — it’s  Dolls  ! — it’s  gone — and  being 
gone  you  are  a man  again.” 

“Your  subject,”  said  Mortimer,  after  lighting  a 
cigar,  and  comforting  himself  with  a whiff  or  two, 
“was  scouts,  Eugene.” 

“ Exactly.  Isn’t  it  droll  that  I never  go  out  after  dark, 
but  I find  myself  attended,  always  by  one  scout,  and 
often  by  two?” 

Lightwood  took  his  cigar  from  his  lips  in  surprise, 
and  looked  at  his  friend,  as  if  with  a latent  suspicion 
that  there  must  be  a jest  or  hidden  meaning  in  his 
words. 

“ On  my  honour,  no,”  said  Wrayburn,  answering  the 
look  and  smiling  carelessly.  “I  don’t  wonder  at  your 
supposing  so,  but  on  my  honour,  no.  I say  what  I mean. 
I never  go  out  after  dark,  but  I find  myself  in  the 
ludicrous  situation  of  being  followed  and  observed  at  a 
distance,  always  by  one  scout,  and  often  by  two.” 

“ Are  you  sure,  Eugene  ?” 

“ Sure  ? My  dear  boy,  they  are  always  the  same.” 

“ But  there’s  no  process  out  against  you.  The  Jews 
only  threaten.  They  have  done  nothing.  Besides,  they 
know  where  to  find  you,  and  I represent  you.  Why  take 
the  trouble  ? ” 


SCOUTS  OUT. 


131 


Observe  the  legal  mind  ! ’’  remarked  Eugene,  turn- 
ing round  to  the  furniture  again,  with  an  air  of  indolent 
rapture.  Observe  the  dyer’s  hand,  assimilating  itself 
to  what  it  works  in, — or  would  work  in,  if  anybody 
would  give  it  anything  to  do.  Respected  solicitor,  it’s 
not  that.  The  schoolmaster’s  abroad.” 

The  schoolmaster  ?” 

‘‘Ay  ! Sometimes  the  schoolmaster  and  the  pupil  are 
both  abroad.  Why,  how  soon  you  rust  in  my  absence  ! 
You  don’t  understand  yet  ? Those  fellows  who  were 
here  one  night.  They  are  the  scouts  I speak  of  as  doing 
me  the  honour  to  attend  me  after  dark.” 

“How  long  has  this  been  going  on  ?”  asked  Light- 
wood,  opposing  a serious  face  to  the  laugh  of  his  friend. 

“I  apprehend  it  has  been  going  on,  ever  since  a cer- 
tain person  went  off.  Probably,  it  had  been  going  on 
some  little  time  before  I noticed  it:  which  would  bring 
it  to  about  that  time.” 

“ Do  you  think  they  suppose  you  to  have  inveigled  her 
away  ? ” 

“ My  dear  Mortimer,  you  know  the  absorbing  nature 
of  my  professional  occupations  ; I really  have  not  had 
leisure  to  think  about  it.” 

“ Have  you  asked  them  what  they  want  ? Have  you 
objected?” 

“Why  should  I ask  them  what  they  want,  dear  fel- 
low, when  I am  indifferent  what  they  want  ? Why 
should  I express  objection,  when  I don’t  object  ?” 

“You  are  in  your  most  reckless  mood.  But  you  called 
the  situation  just  now  a ludicrous  one  ; and  most  men 
object  to  that,  even  those  who  are  utterly  indifferent  to 
everything  else.” 

“You  charm  me,  Mortimer,  with  your  reading  of  my 
weaknesses.  (By-the-bye,  that  very  word,  Reading,  in 
its  critical  use,  always  charms  me.  An  actress’s  Read- 
ing of  a chambermaid,  a dancer’s  Reading  of  a horn- 
pipe, a singer’s  Reading  of  a song,  a marine-painter’s 
Reading  of  the  sea,  the  kettle-drum’s  Reading  of  an  in- 
strumental passage,  are  phrases  ever  youthful  and  de- 
lightful.) I was  mentioning  your  percejjtion  of  my 
weaknesses.  I own  to  the  weakness  of  objecting  to  oc- 
cupy a ludicrous  position,  and  therefore  I transfer  the 
position  to  the  scouts.” 

“ I wish,  Eugene,  you  would  speak  a little  more 


132 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


soberly  and  plainly,  if  it  were  only  out  of  consideration 
for  my  feeling  less  at  ease  than  you  do.’’ 

Then,  soberly  and  plainly,  Mortimer,  I goad  the 
schoolmaster  to  madness.  I make  the  schoolmaster  so 
ridiculous,  and  so  aware  of  being  made  ridiculous,  that 
I see  him  chafe  and  fret  at  every  pore  when  we  cross 
one  another.  The  amiable  occupation  has  been  the 
solace  of  my  life,  since  I was  baulked  in  the  manner 
unnecessary  to  recall.  I have  derived  inexpressible 
comfort  from  it.  I do  it  thus  : I stroll  out  after  dark, 
stroll  a little  way,  look  in  at  a window  and  furtively 
look  out  for  the  schoolmaster.  Sooner  or  later,  I per- 
ceive the  schoolmaster  on  the  watch ; sometimes  ac- 
companied by  his  hopeful  pupil ; oftener,  pupil-less. 
Having  made  sure  of  his  watching  me,  I tempt  him  on, 
all  over  London.  One  night  I go  east,  another  night 
north,  in  a few  nights  I go  all  round  the  compass. 
Sometimes,  I walk  ; sometimes,  I proceed  in  cabs, 
draining  the  pocket  of  the  schoolmaster  who  then  fol- 
lows in  cabs.  I study  and  get  up  abstruse  No  Thorough- 
fares in  the  course  of  the  day.  With  Venetian  mystery 
I seek  those  No  Thoroughfares  at  night,  glide  into  them 
by  means  of  dark  courts,  tempt  the  schoolmaster  to  fol- 
low, turn  suddenly,  and  catch  him  before  he  can  re- 
treat. Then  we  face  one  another,  and  I pass  him  as  un- 
aware of  his  existence,  and  he  undergoes  grinding  tor- 
ments. Similarly,  I walk  at  a 'great  pace  down  a short 
street,  rapidly  turn  the  corner,  and,  getting  out  of  his 
view,  as  rapidly  turn  back.  I catch  him  coming  on 
post,  again  pass  him  as  unaware  of  his  existence,  and 
again  he  undergoes  grinding  torments.  Night,  after 
night  his  disappointment  is  acute,  but  hope  springs 
eternal  in  his  scholastic  breast,  and  he  follows  me  again 
to-morrow.  Thus  I enjoy  the  pleasures  of  the  chase, 
and  derive  great  benefit  from  the  healthful  exercise. 
When  I do  not  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  the  chase,  for  any- 
thing I know,  he  watches  at  the  Temple  Gate  all  night.” 

This  is  an  extraordinary  story,”  observed  Lightwood, 
who  had  heard  it  out  with  serious  attention.  I don’t 
like  it.” 

You  are  a little  hipped,  dear  fellow,”  said  Eugene  ; 
you  have  been  too  sedentary.  Come  and  enjoy  the 
pleasures  of  the  chase.” 

Do  you  mean  that  you  believe  he  is  watching  now?” 


SCOUTS  OUT. 


133 


have  not  the  slightest  doubt  he  is.’^ 

Have  you  seen  him  to-night?’’ 

‘^1  forgot  to  look  for  him  when  I was  last  out,”  re- 
turned Eugene  with  the  calmest  indifference  ; ^^butl 
dare  say  he  was  there.  Come  ! Be  a British  sportsman 
and  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  the  chase.  It  will  do  you 
good.” 

Lightwood  hesitated  ; but,  yielding  to  his  curiosity, 
rose. 

Bravo  ! ” cried  Eugene,  rising  too.  Or,  if  Yoicks 
would  be  in  better  keeping,  consider  that  I said  Yoicks. 
Look  to  your  feet,  Mortimer,  for  we  shall  try  your  boots. 
When  you  are  ready  I am — need  I say  with  a Hey  Ho 
Chivey,  and  likewise  with  a Hark  Forward,  Hark 
Forward  Tantivy  ?” 

Will  nothing  make  you  serious?”  said  Mortimer, 
laughing  through  his  gravity. 

‘‘  1 am  always  serious,  but  just  now  I am  a little  ex- 
cited by  the  glorious  fact  that  a southerly  wind  and  a 
cloudy  sky  proclaim  a hunting  evening.  Ready  ? So. 
We  turn  out  the  lamp  and  shut  the  door,  and  take  the 
field.” 

As  the  two  friends  passed  out  of  the  Temple  into  the 
public  street, Eugene  demanded  with  a show  of  courteous 
patronage  in  which  direction  Mortimer  would  like  the 
run  to  be  ? ' ' There  is  a rather  difficult  country  about  Beth- 
nal Green,”  said  Eugene,  and  we  have  not  taken  in  that 
direction  lately.  What  is  your  opinion  of  Bethnal 
Green?”.  Mortimer  assented  to  Bethnal  Green,  and 
they  turned  eastward.  ^^Now,  when  we  come  to  St. 
Paul’s  churchyard,”  pursued  Eugene,  we’ll  loiter  art- 
fully, and  ni  show  you  the  schoolmaster.”  But,  they 
both  saw  him,  before  they  got  there  ; alone,  and  steal- 
ing after  them  in  the  shadow  of  the  houses,  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  way. 

Get  your  wind,”  said  Eugene,  for  I am  off  directly. 
Does  it  occur  to  you  that  the  boys  of  Merry  England 
will  begin  to  deteriorate  in  an  educational  light,  if  this 
lasts  long  ? The  schoolmaster  can’t  attend  to  me  and 
the  boys  too.  Got  your  wind  ? I am  off  ! ” 

At  what  a rate  he  went,  to  breathe  the  schoolmaster; 
and  how  he  there  lounged  and  loitered, to  put  his  patience 
to  another  kind  of  wear;  what  preposterous  ways  he  took 
with  no  other  object  on  earth  than  to  disappoint  and 


134 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


punish  him  ; and  how  he  wore  him  out  by  every  piece 
of  ingenuity  that  his  eccentric  humour  could  devise  ; 
all  this  Lightwood  noted,  with  a feeling  of  astonish- 
ment that  so  careless  a man  could  be  so  wary,  and  that 
so  idle  a man  could  take  so  much  trouble.  At  last,  far 
on  in  the  third  hour  of  the  pleasures  of  the  chase,  when 
he  had  brought  the  poor  dogging  wretch  round  again 
into  the  City,  he  twisted  Mortimer  up  a few  dark  en- 
tries, twisted  him  into  a little  square  court,  twisted  him 
sharp  round  again,  and  they  almost  ran  against  Bradley 
Headstone. 

And  you  see,  as  I was  saying,  Mortimer,’’  remarked 
Eugene  aloud  with  the  utmost  coolness,  as  though  there 
were  no  one  within  hearing  but  themselves:  ^'and  you 
see,  as  I was  saying — undergoing  grinding  torments.” 

It  was  not  too  strong  a phrase  for  the  occasion.  Look- 
ing like  the  hunted  and  not  the  hunter,  baffled,  worn, 
with  the  exhaustion  of  deferred  hope  and  consuming 
hate  and  anger  in  his  face,  white-lipped,  wild-eyed, 
draggle-haired,  seamed  with  jealousy  and  anger,  and 
torturing  himself  with  the  conviction  that  he  showed 
it  all,  and  they  exulted  in  it,  he  went  by  them  in  the 
dark,  like  a haggard  head  suspended  in  the  air  ; so  com- 
pletely did  the  force  of  his  expression  cancel  his  figure. 

Mortimer  Lightwood  was  not  an  extraordinarily  im- 
pressible man,  but  this  face  impressed  him.  He  spoke 
of  it  more  than  once  on  the  remainder  of  the  way  home, 
and  more  than  once  when  they  got  home. 

They  had  been  abed  in  their  respective  rooms  two  or 
three  hours,  when  Eugene  was  partly  awakened  by 
hearing  a footstep  going  about,  and  was  fully  awakened 
by  seeing  Lightwood  standing  at  his  bedside. 

Nothing  wrong,  Mortimer?” 

^^No.” 

What  fancy  takes  you,  then,  for  walking  about  in 
the  night?  ” 

I am  horribly  wakeful.” 

^^How  comes  that  about,  I wonder!” 

Eugene,  I cannot  lose  sight  of  that  fellow’s  face.” 

''Odd! ’’said  Eugene  with  a light  laugh,  "/  can.” 
And  turned  over,  and  fell  asleep  again. 


IN  TPIE  DARK. 


135 


- CHAPTER  XL 

IN  THE  DARK. 

There  was  no  sleep  for  Bradley  Headstone  on  that 
night  whe^i  Eugene  Wrayburn  turned  so  easily  in 
his  bed;  there  was  no  sleep  for  little  Miss  Peecher. 
Bradley  consumed  the  lonely  hours,  and  consumed 
himself,  in  haunting  the  spot  where  his  careless  rival 
lay  a dreaming;  little  Miss  Peecher  wore  them  away  in 
listening  for  the  return  home  of  the  master  of  her  heart, 
and  in  sorrowfully  presaging  that  much  was  amiss  with 
him.  Yet  more  was  amiss  with  him  than  Miss  PeechePs 
simply  arranged  little  workbox  of  thoughts,  fitted 
with  no  gloomy  and  dark  recesses,  could  hold.  For, 
the  state  of  the  man  was  murderous. 

The  state  of  the  man  was  murderous,  and  he  knew  it. 
More;  he  irritated  it  with  a kind  of  perverse  pleasure 
akin  to  that  which  a sick  man  sometimes  has  in  irritat- 
ing a wound  upon  his  body.  Tied  up  all  day  with  his 
disciplined  show  upon  him,  subdued  to  the  performance 
of  his  routine  of  educational  tricks,  encircled  bv  a gab- 
bling crowd,  he  broke  loose  at  night  like  an  ill-tamed 
wild  animal.  Under  his  daily  restraint,  it  was  his  com- 
pensation, not  his  trouble,  to  give  a glance  towards  his 
state  at  night,  and  to  the  freedom  of  its  being  indulged. 
If  great  criminals  told  the  truth — which,  being  great 
criminals,  they  do  not — they  would  very  rarely  tell  of 
their  struggles  against  the.  crime.  Their  struggles  are 
towards  it.  They  buffet  with  opposing  waves  to  gain 
the  bloody  shore,  not  to  recede  from  it.  This  man  per- 
fectly comprehended  that  he  hated  his  rival  with  his 
strongest  and  worst  forces,  and  that,  if  he  tracked  him 
to  Lizzie  Hexam,  his  so  doing  would  never  serve  him- 
self with  her,  or  serve  her.  All  his  pains  were  taken 
to  the  end  that  he  might  incense  himself  with  the  sight 
of  the  detested  figure  in  her  company  and  favour,  in  her 
place  of  concealment.  And  he  knew  as  well  what  act 
of  his  would  follow,  if  he  did,  as  he  knew  that  his 
mother  had  borne  him.  Granted  that  he  may  not  have 
held  it  necessary  to  make  express  mention  to  him.self 
the  one  familiar  truth  any  more  than  of  the  other, 


1C6 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


He  knew  equally. well  that  he  fed  his  wrath  and 
hatred,  and  that  he  accumulated  provocation  and  self- 
justification, by  being  made  the  nightly  sport  of  the 
reckless  and  insolent  Eugene.  Knowing  all  this,  and 
still  always  going  on  with  infinite  endurance,  pains, 
and  perseverance,  could  his  dark  soul  doubt  whither  he 
went  ? 

Baffled,  exasperated,  and  weary,  he  lingered  opposite 
the  Temple  gate  when  it  closed  on  Wrayburn  and 
Lightwood,  debating  with  himself  should  he  go  home 
for  that  time  or  should  he  watch  longer.  Possessed  in 
his  jealousy  by  the  fixed  idea  that  Wrayburn  was  in 
the  secret^  if  it  were  not  altogether  of  his  contriving, 
Bradley  was  as  confident  of  getting  the  better  of  him 
at  last  by  sullenly  sticking  to  him,  as  he  would  have 
been — and  often  had  been — of  ma^stering  any  piece  of 
study  in  the  way  of  his  vocation  by  the  like  slow  per- 
sistent process.  A man  of  rapid  passions  and  sluggish 
intelligence,  it  had  served  him  often  and  should  serve 
him  again. 

The  suspicion  crossed  him  as  he  rested  in  a doorway 
with  his  eyes  upon  the  Temple  gate,  that  perhaps  she 
was  even  concealed  in  that  set  of  Chambers.  It  would 
furnish  another  reason  for  Wrayburn’s  purposeless 
walks,  and  it  might  be.  He  thought  of  it  and  thought 
of  it,  until  he  resolved  to  steal  up  the  stairs,  if  the  gate- 
keeper would  let  him  through,  and  listen.  So,  the  hag- 
gard head  suspended  in  the  air  flitted  across  the  road, 
like  the  spectre  of  one  of  the  many  heads  erst  hoisted 
upon  neighbouring  Temple  Bar,  and  stopped  before  the 
watchman. 

The  Watchman  looked  at  it,  and  asked:  '‘Who  for?” 

"Mr.  Wrayburn.” 

" It’s  very  late.” 

"He  came  back  with  Mr.  Lightwood,  I know,  near 
upon  two  hours  ago.  But  if  he  has  gone  to  bed.  I’ll  put 
a paper  in  his  letter-box.  I am  expected.” 

The  watchman  said  no  more,  but  opened  the  gate, 
though  rather  doubtfully.  Seeing,  however,  that  the 
visitor  went  straight  and  fast  in  the  right  direction,  he 
seemed  satisfied. 

The  haggard  head  floated  up  the  dark  staircase,  and 
softly  descended  nearer  to  the  floor  outside  the  outer 
door  of  the  chambers.  The  doors  of  the  rooms  within 


IN  THE  DARK. 


# 


appeared  to  be  standing  open.  There  were  rays  of 
candlelight  from  one  of  them,  and  there  was  the  sound 
of  a footstep  going  about.  There  were  two  voices. 
The  words  they  uttered  were  not  distinguishable,  but 
they  were  both  the  voices  of  men.  In  a few  moments 
the  voices  were  silent,  and  there  was  no  sound  of  foot- 
step, and  the  inner  light  went  out.  If  Lightwood  could 
have  seen  the  face  which  kept  him  awake,  staring  and 
listening  in  the  darkness  outside  the  door  as  he  spoke 
of  it,  he  might  have  been  less  disposed  to  sleep  through 
the  remainder  of  the  night.  ^ 

^^N'ot  there,”  said  Bradley:  ^^but  she  might  have 
been.  The  head  arose  to  its  former  height  from  the 
ground,  floated  down  the  staircase  again,  and  passed  on 
to  the  gate.  A man  was  standing  there,  in  parley  with 
the  watchman. 

Oh  ! ” said  the  watchman.  Here  he  is  ! ” 

Perceiving  himself  to  be  the  antecedent,  Bradley 
looked  from  the  watchman  to  the  man. 

This  man  is  leaving  a letter  for  Mr.  Lightwood,” 
the  watchman  explained,  showing  it  in  his  hand  ; and 
I was  mentioning  that  a person  had  just  gone  up  to  Mr. 
Lightwood’s  chambers.  It  might  be  the  same  business 
perhaps  ?” 

No,”  said  Bradley,  glancing  at  the  man,  who  was  a 
stranger  to  him. 

No,”  the  man  assented  in  a surly  way  ; ^^my  letter 
— it’s  wrote  by  my  daughter,  but  it’s  mine — is  about 
my  business,  and  my  business  ain’t  nobody  else’s  busi- 
ness.” 

As  Bradley  passed  out  at  the  gate  with  an  undecided 
foot,  he  heard  it  shut  behind  him,  and  heard  the  foot- 
step of  the  man  coming  after  him. 

’Sense  me,”  said  the  man,  who  appeared  to  have 
been  drinking,  and  rather  stumbled  at  him  than  touched 
him,  to  attract  his  attention  ; ‘‘but  might  you  be  ac- 
quainted with  the  T’other  Governor  ? ” 

“ With  whom  ? ” asked  Bradley. 

“With,”  returned  the  man,  pointing  backward  over 
his  right  shoulder  with  his  right  thumb,  “the  T’other 
Governor  ?” 

“ I don’t  know  what  you  mean.” 

“ Whj , look  here,”  hooking  his  proposition  on  his  left- 
hand  Angers  with  the  forefinger  of  Ms  right.  “ There’s 


m 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND.  ^ 

two  Governors,  ain’t  there  ? One  and  one,  two — Lawyer 
Lightwood,  my  first  finger,  he’s  one,  ain’t  he  ? Well ; 
might  you  be  acquainted  with  my  middle  finger,  the 
T’other  ?” 

I know  quite  as  much  of  him,”  said  Bradley,  with  a 
frown  and  a distant  look  before  him,  ^‘as  I want  to 
know.” 

Hooroar!  ” cried  the  man.  ''  Hooroar  T’other  t’other 
Governor.  Hooroar  T’otherest  Governor!  I am  of  your 
way  of  thinkin’.” 

Don’t  make  such  a noise  at  this  dead  hour  of  the 
night.  What  are  you  talkflbg  about?” 

'^Look  here,  T’otherest  Governor,”  replied  the  man, 
becoming  hoarsely  confidential.  The  T’other  Governor 
he’s  always  joked  his  jokes  agin  me,  owing,  as  /believe, 
to  my  being  a honest  man  as  gets  my  living  by  the 
sweat  of  my  brow.  Which  he  ain’t,  and  he  don’t.” 

What  is  that  to  me?” 

T’otherest  Governor,”  returned  the  man  in,  a tone 
of  injured  innocence,  'Gf  you  don’t  care  to  hear  no 
more,  don’t  hear  no  more.  You  begun  it.  You  said, 
and  likeways  showed  pretty  plain,  as  you  warn’t  by  no 
means  friendly  to  him.  But  I don’t  seek  to  force  my 
company  nor  yet  my  opinions  on  no  man.  I am  a 
honest  man,  that’s  what  I am.  Put  me  in  the  dock 
anywhere — I don’t  care  where — and  I says,  ^ My  Lord, 
I am  a honest  man.’  Put  me  in  the  witness-box  any- 
where— I don’t  care  where — and  I says  the  same  to  his 
lordship,  and  I kisses  the  book.  I don’t  kiss  my  coat- 
cuff  ; I kisses  the  book.” 

It  was  not  so  much  in  deference  to  these  strong  testi- 
monials to  character,  as  in  his  restless  casting  about  for 
any  way  or  help  towards  the  discovery  on  which  he 
was  concentrated,  that  Bradley  Headstone  replied: 

You  needn’t  take  offence,  I didn’t  mean  to  stop  you. 
You  were  too  loud  in  the  open  street;  that  was  all.” 

T’otherest  Governor,”  replied  Mr.  Riderhood,  molli- 
fied and  mysterious,  I know  wot  it  is  to  be  loud,  and 
I know  wot  it  is  to  be  soft.  Nat’rally  I do.  It  would 
be  a wonder  if  I did  not,  being  by  the  Chris’en  name  of 
Roger,  which  took  it  arter  my  own  father,  which  took 
it  from  his  own  father,  though  which  of  our  family  fust 
took  it  nat’ral  I will  not  in  any  ways  mislead  you  by 
undertakin’  to  say.  And  wishing  that  your  elth  may 


IN  THE  DARK. 


139 


be  better  than  your  looks,  which  your  inside  must  be 
bad  indeed  if  it’s  on  the  footing  of  your  out.” 

Startled  by  the  implication  that  his  face  revealed  too 
much  of  his  mind,  Bradley  made  an  effort  to  clear  his 
brow.  It  might  be  worth  knowing  what  this  strange 
man’s  business  was  with  Lightwood,  or  Wrayburn,  or 
both,  at  such  an  unseasonable  hour.  He  set  himself  to 
find  out,  for  the  man  might  prove  to  be  a messenger 
between  those  two. 

You  call  at  the  Temple  late,”  he  remarked  with  a 
lumbering  show  of  ease. 

Wish  I may  die,”  cried  Mr.  Riderhood,  with  a hoarse 
laugh,  ^4f  I warn’t  a-goin’  to  say  the  self-same  words 
to  you,  T’otherest  Governor  ! ” 

^Ht  chanced  so  with  me.”  said  Bradley,  looking  dis- 
concertedly  about  him. 

And  it  chanced  so  with  me,”  said  Riderhood.  But 
I don’t  mind  telling  you  how.  Why  should  I mind 
telling  you  ? I’m  a Deputy  Lock-keeper  up  the  river,  and 
I was  off  duD^  yes’day,  and  I shall  be  on  to-morrow.” 

^Wes?” 

^Wes,  and  I come  to  London  to  look  arter  my  private 
affairs.  My  private  affairs  is  to  get  appinted  to  the 
Lock  as  reg’lar  keeper  at  fust  hand,  and  to  have  the 
law  of  a busted  B’low-Bridge  steamer  which  drownded 
of  me.  I ain’t  a-goin’  to  be  drownded  and  not  paid  for 
it ! ” 

Bradley  looked  at  him,  as  though  he  were  claiming  to 
be  a Ghost. 

The  steamer,”  said  Mr.  Riderhood  obstinately,^^  run 
me  down  and  drownded  of  me.  Interference  on  the 
part  of  other  parties  brought  me  round  ; but  I never 
asked  ’em  to  bring  me  round,  nor  yet  the  steamer  never 
asked  ’em  to  it.  I mean  to  be  paid  for  the  life  as  the 
steamer  took.” 

Was  that  your  business  at  Mr.  Light  wood’s  cham- 
bers in  the  middle  of  the  night  ? ” asked  Bradley,  eye- 
ing him  with  distrust. 

'^That  and  to  get  a writing  to  be  fust-hand  Lock- 
Keeper.  A recommendation  in  writing  being  looked 
for,  who  else  ought  to  give  it  to  me  ? As  I says  in  the 
letter  in  my  daughter’s  hand,  with  my  mark  put  to  it  to 
make  it  good  in  law.  Who  but  you.  Lawyer  Light- 
wood,  ought  to  hand  over  this  here  stifficate,  and  who 


140 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


but  you  ought  to  go  in  for  damages  on  my  account  agin 
the  Steamer  ? For  (as  I says  under  my  mark)  I have 
had  trouble  enough  along  of  you  and  your  friend.  If 
you,  Lawyer  Lightwood,  had  backed  me  good  and  true, 
and  if  the  T’other  Governor  had  took  me  down  correct 
(I  says  under  my  mark),  I should  have  been  worth  money 
at  the  present  time,  instead  of  having  a barge-load  of 
bad  names  chucked  at  me,  and  being  forced  to  eat  my 
words,  which  is  a unsatisfying  sort  of  food,  wotever 
a man’s  appetite  ! And  when  you  mention  the  middle 
of  the  night,  T’otherest  Governor,”  growled  Mr.  Rider- 
hood,  winding  up  his  monotonous  summary  of  his 
wrongs,  throw  your  eye  on  this  here  bundle  under  my 
arm,  and  bear  in  mind  that  I’m  a walking  back  to  my 
Lock,  and  that  the  Temple  laid  upon  my  line  of  road.” 

Bradley  Headstone’s  face  had  changed  during  this 
latter  recital,  and  he  had  observed  the  speaker  with  a 
more  sustained  attention. 

“^^Do  you  know,”  said  he,  after  a pause,  during  which 
they  walked  on  side  by  side,^^  that  I believe  I could  tell 
you  your  name,  if  I tried?” 

Prove  your  opinion,”  was  the  answer,  accompanied 
with  a stop  and  a stare.  Try.” 

Your  name  is  Riderhood.” 

‘^G’m  blest  if  it  ain’t,”  returned  that  gentleman.  But 
I don’t  know  yourn.” 

That’s  quite  another  thing,”  said  Bradley.  I never 

supposed  you  did.” 

As  Bradley  walked  on  meditating,  the  Rogue  walked 
on  at  his  side  muttering.  The  purport  of  the  muttering 
was:  ^^that  Rogue  Riderhood,  by  George!  seemed  to  be 
made  public  property  on,  now,  and  that  every  man 
seemed  to  think  himself  free  to  handle  his  name  as  if  it 
was  a Street  Pump.”  The  purport  of  the  meditating 
was  : Here  is  an  instrument.  Can  I use  it?  ” 

They  had  walked  along  the  Strand,  and  into  Pall  Mall, 
and  had  turned  up-hill  towards  Hyde  Park  Corner; 
Bradley  Headstone  waiting  on  the  pace  and  lead  of  Ri- 
derhood, and  leaving  him  to  indicate  the  course.  So 
slow  were  the  schoolmaster’s  thoughts,  and  so  indistinct 
his  purposes  when  they  were  but  tributary  to  the  one 
absorbing  purpose — or  rather  when,  like  dark  trees 
under  a stormy  sky,  they  only  lined  the  long  vista  at 
the  end  of  which  he  saw  those  two  figures  of  Wrayburn 


IN  THE  DARK. 


141 


and  Lizzie  on  which  his  eyes  were  fixed — that  at  least 
a good  half  mile  was  traversed  before  he  spoke  again. 
Even  then  it  was  only  to  ask: 

“ Where  is  your  lock?  ” 

“ Twenty  mile  and  odd — call  it  five-and-twenty  mile 
and  odd,  if  you  like — up  stream,”  was  the  sullen  reply. 

“ How  is  it  called?” 

“Plash water  Weir  Mill  Lock.” 

“Suppose  I was  to  offer  you  five  shillings;  what 
then?” 

“ Why,  then,  I’d  take  it,”  said  Mr.  Riderhood. 

The  schoolmaster  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket,  and  pro- 
duced two  half-crowns,  and  placed  them  in  Mr.  Rider- 
hood’s  palm:  who  stopped  at  a convenient  doorstep  to 
ring  them  both,  before  acknowledging  their  receipt. 

“There’s  one  thing  about  you,  T’otherest  Governor,” 
said  Riderhood,  faring  on  again,  “as  looks  well  and 
goes  fur.  You’re  a ready -money  man.  Now;”  when 
he  had  carefully  pocketed  the  coins  on  that  side  of  him- 
self which  was  furthest  from  his  new'  friend  ; “what’s 
this  for?” 

“ For  you.” 

“ Why,  o’  course  I know  that,”  said  Riderhood,  as 
arguing  something  that  was  self-evident.  “O’ course 
I know  very  well  as  no  man  in  his  right  senses  would 
suppose  as  anythink  would  make  me  give  it  up  agin 
when  I’d  once  got  it.  But  what  do  you  want  for  it?” 

“ I don’t  know  that  I want  anything  for  it.  Or  if  I 
do  want  anything  for  it,  I don’t  know  what  it  is.” 
Bradley  gave  this  answer  in  a stolid,  vacant,  and 
self -communing  manner  which  Mr.  Riderhood  found 
very  extraordinary. 

“You  have  no  good-will  towards  this  Wray  burn,” 
said  Bradley,  coming  to  the  name  in  a reluctant  and 
forced  way,  as  if  he  were  dragged  to  it. 

“No.” 

“ Neither  have  1.” 

Riderhood  nodded,  and  asked:  “is  it  for  that?” 

“ It’s  as  much  for  that  as  anything  else.  It’s  some- 
thing to  be  agreed  with,  on  a subject  that  occupies  so 
much  of  one’s  thoughts.” 

“ It  don’t  agree  with  you,”  returned  Mr.  Riderhood 
bluntly.  “No!  It  don’t,  T’otherest  Governor,  and  it’s 
no  use  a lookin’  as  if  you  wanted  to  make  out  that  it  did. 


142 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


I tell  you  it  rankles  in  you,  rusts  in  you  and  pisons 
you.’’ 

Say  that  it  does  so/’  returned  Bradley  with  quiver- 
ing lips;  ''  is  there  no  cause  for  it?  ” 

Cause  enough,  ITl  bet  a pound!”  cried  Mr.  Rider- 
hood. 

Haven’t  you  yourself  declared  that  the  fellow  has 
heaped  provocations,  insults,  and  affronts  on  you,  or 
something  to  that  effect?  He  has  done  the  same  by  me. 
He  is  made  of  venomous  insults  and  affronts,  from  the 
crown  of  his  head  to  the  sole  of  his  foot.  Are  you  so 
hopeful  or  so  stupid,  as  not  to  know  that  he  and  the  other 
will  treat  your  application  with  contempt,  and  light 
their  cigars  with  it?” 

^[1  shouldn’t  wonder  if  they  did,  by  George!”  said 
Riderhood,  turning  angry. 

^Hf  they  did!  They  will.  Let  me  ask  you  a ques- 
tion. I know  something  more  than  your  name  about 
you;  I knew  something  about  Gaffer  Hexam.  When 
did  you  last  set  eyes  upon  his  daughter?” 

When  did  I last  set  eyes  upon  his  daughter,  T’other- 
est  Governor?”  repeated  Mr.  Riderhood,  growing  inten- 
tionally slower  of  comprehension  as  the  other  quickened 
in  his  speech. 

'Wes.  Not  to  speak  to  her.  To  see  her — anywhere?” 

The  Rogue  had  got  the  clue  he  wanted,  though  he 
held  it  with  a clumsy  hand.  Looking  perplexedly  at 
the  passionate  face,  as  if  he  were  trying  to  work  out  a 
sum  in  his  mind,  he  slowly  answered:  "I  ain’t  set  eyes 
upon  her — never  once — not  since  the  day  of  Gaffer’s 
death.” 

"You  know  her  well  by  sight?” 

" I should  think  I did!  No  one  better.” 

" And  you  know  him  as  well?” 

"Who’s  hjm?”  asked  Riderhood,  taking  off  his  hat 
and  rubbing  his  forehead,  as  he  directed  a dull  look  at 
his  questioner. 

" Curse  the  name!  Is  it  so  agreeable  to  you  that  you 
want  to  hear  it  again?” 

" Oh!  Him ! ” said  Riderhood,  who  had  craftily  worked 
the  schoolmaster  into  this  corner,  that  he  might  again 
take  note  of  his  face  under  its  evil  possession.  "I’d 
know  him  among  a thousand,” 

"Did  you” — Bradley  tried  to  ask  it  quietly:  but,  do 


IN  THE  DARE. 


143 


what  he  might  with  his  voice,  he  could  not  subdue  his 
face — ^^did  you  ever  see  them  together?’’ 

(The  Rogue  had  got  the  clue  in  both  hands  now.)  . 

I s^e  ’em  together,  T’otherest  Governor,  on  the  very 
day  when  Gaffer  was  towed  ashore.” 

Bradley  could  have  hidden  a reserved  piece  of  infor- 
mation from  the  sharp  eyes  of  a whole  inquisitive  class, 
but  he  could  not  veil  from  the  eyes  of  the  ignorant 
Riderhood  the  withheld  question  next  in  his  breast. 
^‘You  shall  put  it  plain  if  you  want  it  answered,” 
thought  the  Rogue,  doggedly:  I ain’t  a-going  a wol- 
unteering.” 

Well!  was  he  insolent  to  her  too?”  asked  Bradley 
after  a struggle.  ^^Or  did  he  make  a show  of  being 
kind  to  her?” 

^^He  made  a show  of  being  most  uncommon  kind  to 
her,”  said  Riderhood.  By  George!  now  I ” 

His  flying  off  at  a tangent  was  indisputably  natural. 
Bradley  looked  at  him  for  the  reason. 

Now  I think  of  it,”  said  Mr.  Riderhood,  evasively, 
for  he  was  substituting  the  words  for  ^^Now  I see  you 
so  jealous,”  which  was  the  phrase  really  in  his  mind; 

P’raps  he  went  and  took  me  down  wrong  a purpose, 
on  account  o’  being  sweet  upon  her  ! ” 

The  baseness  of  confirming  him  in  this  suspicion  or 
pretence  of  one  (for  he  could  not  have  really  entertained 
it),  was  a line’s  breadth  beyond  the  mark  the  school- 
master had  reached.  The  business  of  communing  and 
intriguing  with  the  fellow  who  would  have  set  that  stain 
upon  her,  and  upon  her  brother  too,  was  attained.  The 
line’s  breadth  further,  lay  beyond.  He  made  no  reply, 
but  walked  on  with  a lowering  face. 

What  he  might  gain  by  this  acquaintance  he  could 
not  work  out  in  his  slow  and  cumbrous  thoughts^.  The 
man  had  an  injury  against  the  object  of  his  hatred,  and 
that  was  something;  though  it  was  less  than  he  sup- 
posed, for  there  dwelt  in  the  man  no  such  deadly  rage 
and  resentment  as  burned  in  his  own  breast.  The  man 
knew  her,  and  might  by  a fortunate  chance  see  her,  or 
hear  of  her;  that  was  something,  as  enlisting  one  pair 
of  eyes  and  ears  the  more.  The  man  was  a bad  man,  and 
willing  enough  to  be  in  his  pay.  That  was  something, 
for  his  own  state  and  purpose  were  as  bad  as  bad  could 
be,  and  he  seemed  to  derive  a vague  support  from  the 


144 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


possession  of  a congenial  instrument,  though  it  might 
never  be  used. 

Suddenly  he  stood  still,  and  asked  Riderhood  point- 
blank  if  he  knew  where  she  was?  Clearly,  he  (fcd  not 
know.  He  asked  Riderhood  if  he  would  be  willing,  in 
case  any  intelligence  of  her,  or  of  Wrayburn  as  seeking 
her  or  associating  with  her,  should  fall  in  his  way,  to 
communicate  it  if  it  were  paid  for?  He  would  be  very 
willing  indeed.  He  was  ^‘agin  ’em  both,”  he  said 
with  an  oath,  and  for  why?  ’Cause  they  had  both  stood 
betwixt  him  and  his  getting  his  living  by  the  sweat  of 
his  brow. 

^Ht  will  not  be  long  then,”  said  Bradley  Headstone, 
after  some  more  discourse  to  this  effect,  before  we 
see  one  another  again.  Here  is  the  country  road,  and 
here  is  the  day.  Both  have  come  upon  me  by  surprise.” 

'^But,  T’otherest  Governor,”  urged  Mr.  Riderhood, 
don’t  know  where  to  find  you.” 

'Ht  is  of  no  consequence,  I know  where  to  find  you, 
and  I’ll  come  to  your  Lock.” 

'^But,  T’otherest  Governor,”  urged  Mr.  Riderhood 
again,  ''no  luck  never  come  yet  of  a dry  acquaintance. 
Let’s  wet  it  in  a mouthful  of  rum  and  milk,  T’otherest 
Governor.” 

Bradley,  assenting,  went  with  him  into  an  early  public- 
house,  haunted  by  unsavoury  smells  of  musty  hay  and 
stale  straw,  where  returning  carts,  farmers’  men,  gaunt 
dogs,  fowls  of  a beery  breed,  and  certain  human  night- 
birds  fluttering  home  to  roost,  were  solacing  themselves 
after  their  several  manners;  and  where  not  one  of  the 
nightbirds  hovering  about  the  sloppy  bar  failed  to  dis- 
cern at  a glance  in  the  passion-wasted  nightbird  with 
respectable  feathers,  the  worst  nightbird  of  all. 

As  inspiration  of  affection  for  a half-drunken  carter 
going  Ris  way  led  to  Mr.  Riderhood’s  being  elevated  on 
a high  heap  of  baskets  on  a waggon,  and  pursuing  his 
journey  recumbent  on  his  back  with  his  head  on  his 
bundle.  Bradley  then  turned  to  retrace  his  steps,  and 
by-and-bye  struck  off  through  little-traversed  ways,  and 
by-and-bye  reached  school  and  home.  Up  came  the  sun 
to  find  him  washed  and  brushed,  methodically  dressed 
in  decent  black  coat  and  waistcoat,  decent  formal  black 
tie,  and  pepper-and-salt  pantaloons,  with  his  decent 
silver  watch  in  his  pocket,  and  its  decent  hair-guard 


IN  THE  DARK. 


145 


round  his  neck;  n scholastic  huntsman  clad  for  the  field, 
with  his  fresh  pack  yelping  and  barking  round  him. 

Yet  more  really  bewitched  than  the  miserable  creat- 
ures of  the  much-lamented  times,  who  accused  them- 
selves of  impossibilities  under  a contagion  of  horror  and 
the  strongly  suggestive  infiuences  of  Torture,  he  had 
been  ridden  hard  by  Evil  Spirits  in  the  night  that  was 
newly  gone.  He  had  been  spurred  and  whipped  and 
heavily  sweated.  If  a record  of  the  sport  had  usurped 
the  places  of  the  peaceful  texts  from  Scripture  on  the 
wall,  the  most  advanced  of  the  scholars  might  have 
taken  fright  and  run  away  from  the  master. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

MEANING  MISCHIEF. 

TTP  came  the  sun,  streaming  all  over  London,  and  in 
vJ  its  glorious  impartiality  even  condescending  to 
make  prismatic  sparkles  in  the  whiskers  of  Mr.  Alfred 
Lammle  as  he  sat  at  breakfast.  In  need  of  some  bright- 
ening from  without  was  Mr.  Alfred  Lammle,  for  he 
had  the  air  of  being  dull  enough  within,  and  looked 
grievously  discontented. 

Mrs.  Alfred  Lammle  faced  her  lord.  The  happy  pair 
of  swindlers,  with  the  comfortable  tie  between  them 
that  each  had  swindled  the  other,  sat  moodily  observant 
of  the  table-cloth.  Things  looked  so  gloomy  in  the 
breakfast-room,  albeit  on  the  sunny  side  of  *Sackville 
Street,  that  any  of  the  family  tradespeople  glancing 
through  the  blinds  might  have  taken  the  hint  to  send 
in  his  account  and  press  for  it.  But  this,  indeed,  most 
of  the  family  tradespeople  had  already  done  without 
the  hint. 

It  seems  to  me,'’  said  Mrs.  Lammle,  ^^that  you  have 
had  no  money  at  all,  ever  since  we  have  been  married.” 

What  seems  to  you,”  said  Mr.  Lammle,  ^'to  have 
been  the  case,  may  possibly  have  been  the  case;  It 
doesn’t  matter.” 

VOL.  II. 


10 


146 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Was  it  the  speciality  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Rammle,  or  does 
it  ever  obtain  with  other  loving  couples  ? In  these 
matrimonial  dialogues  they  never  addressed  each  other, 
but  always  some  invisible  presence  that  appeared  to 
take  a station  about  midway  between  them.  Perhaps 
the  skeleton  in  the  cupboard  comes  out  to  be  talked  to, 
on  such  domestic  occasions  ? 

“ I have  never  seen  any  money  in  the  house,”  said 
Mrs.  Lammle  to  the  skeleton,  “ except  my  own  annuity. 
That  I swear.” 

“You  needn’t  take  the  trouble  of  swearing,”  said  Mr. 
Lammle  to  the  skeleton;  “once  more,  it  doesn’t  matter. 
You  never  turned  your  annuity  to  so  good  an  account.” 

“Good  an  account!  In  what  way?”  asked  Mrs. 
Lammle. 

“ In  the  way  of  getting  credit,  and  living  well,”  said 
Mr.  Lammle. 

Perhaps  the  skeleton  laughed  scornfully  on  being  in- 
trusted with  this  question  and  this  answer;  certainly 
Mrs.  Lammle  did,  and  Mr.  Lammle  did. 

“ And  what  is  to  happen  next,”  asked  Mrs.  Lammle 
of  the  skeleton. 

“ Smash  is  to  happen  next,”  said  Mr.  Lammle  to  the 
same  authority. 

After  this,  Mrs.  Lammle  looked  disdainfully  at  the 
skeleton — but  without  carrying  the  look  on  to  Mr. 
Lammle— and  drooped  her  eyes.  After  that  Mr.  Lam- 
mle did  exactly  the  same  thing,  and  drooped  his  eyes. 
A servant  then  entering  with  toast,  the  skeleton  re- 
tired into  the  closet,  and  shut  itself  up. 

“Sophronia,”  said  Mr.  Lammle,  when  the  servant 
had  withdrawn.  And  then,  very  much  louder:  “So- 
phronia 1 ” 

“ Well 

“ Attend  to  me,  if  you  please.”  He  eyed  her  sternly 
until  she  did  attend,  and  then  went  on.  “ I want  to 
take  counsel  with  you.  Come,  come;  no  more  trifling. 
You  know  our  league  and  covenant.  We  are  to  work 
together  for  our  joint  interest,  and  you  are  as  knowing 
a hand  as  I am.  W e shouldn’t  be  together,  if  you  were 
not.  What’s  to  be  done?  We  are  hemmed  into  a corner. 
What  shall  we  do  ? ” 

“ Have  you  no  scheme  on  foot  that  will  bring  in  any- 
thing ? ” 


MEANING  MISCHIEF. 


147 


Mr.  Lammle  plunged  into  his  whiskers  for  reflection, 
and  came  out  hopeless  : ''  No  ; as  adventurers  we  are 
obliged  to  play  rash  games  for  chances  of  high  winnings, 
and  there  has  been  a run  of  luck  against  us.” 

She  was  resuming,  Have  you  nothing ” when  he 

stopped  her. 

We,  Sophronia.  We,  we,  we.” 

Have  we  nothing  to  sell  ? ” 

Deuce  a bit!  I have  given  a Jew  a bill  of*  sale  on  this 
furniture,  and  he  could  take  it  to-morrow,  to-day,  now. 
He  would  have  taken  it  before  now,  I believe,  but  for 
Fledgeby.” 

‘ ^ What  has  Fledgeby  to  do  with  him  ? ” 

Knew  him.  Cautioned  me  against  him  before  I got 
into  his  claws.  Couldn’t  persuade  him  then,  in  behalf 
of  somebody  else.” 

you  mean  that  Fledgeby  has  at  all  softened  him 
towards  you  ? ” 

^^Us,  Sophronia.  Us,  us,  us.” 

''  Towards  us  ?” 

^^I  mean  that  the  Jew  has  not  yet  done  what  he 
might  have  done,  and  that  Fledgeby  takes  the  credit  of 
having  got  him  to  hold  his  hand.” 

Do  you  believe  Fledgeby  ?” 

Sophronia,  I never  believe  anybody.  I never  have, 
my  dear,  since  I believed  you.  But  it  looks  like  it.” 

Having  given  her  this  back-handed  reminder  of  her 
mutinous  observations  to  the  skeleton,  Mr.  Lammle  rose 
from  table — perhaps  the  better  to  conceal  a smile,  and 
a white  dint  or  two  about  his  nose — and  took  a turn  on 
the  carpet  and  came  to  the  hearth-rug. 

If  we  could  have  packed  the  brute  off  withGeorgiana; 
— but  however  ; that’s  spilled  milk.” 

As  Lammle,  standing  gathering  up  the  skirts  of  his 
dressing-gown  with  his  back  to  the  fire,  said  this,  look- 
ing down  at  his  wife,  she  turned  pale  and  looked  down 
at  the  ground.  With  a sense  of  disloyalty  upon  her, 
and  perhaps  with  a sense  of  personal  danger — for  she 
was  afraid  of  him — even  afraid  of  his  hand  and  afraid 
of  his  foot,  though  he  had  never  done  her  violence — she 
hastened  to  put  herself  right  in  his  eyes. 

‘‘If  we  could  borrow  money,  Alfred ” 

''  Beg  money,  borrow  money,  or  steal  money.  It  would 
be  all  one  to  us,  Sophronia,”  her  husband  struck  in. 


148 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


— Then,  we  could  weather  this 

No  doubt.  To  offer  another  original  and  undeniable 
remark,  Sophronia,  two  and  two  make  four.” 

But,  seeing  that  she  was  turning  something  in  her 
mind,  he  gathered  up  the  skirts  of  his  dressing-gown 
again,  and  tucking  them  under  one  arm,  and  collecting 
his  ample  whiskers  in  his  other  hand,  kept  his  eye  upon 
her  silently. 

^^It  is  natural,  Alfred,”  she  said,  looking  up  with 
some  timidity  into  his  face,  ‘'^to  think  in  such  an  emer- 
gency of  the  richest  people  we  know,  and  the  simplest.” 

Just  so,  Sophronia.” 

The  Boffins.” 

Just  so,  Sophronia.” 

Is  there  nothing  to  be  done  with  them  ? ” 

What  is  there  to  be  done  with  them,  Sophronia  ?” 

She  cast  about  in  her  thoughts  again,  and  he  kept  his 
eye  upon  her  as  before. 

Of  course  I have  repeatedly  thought  of  the  Boffins, 
Sophronia,”  he  resumed,  after  a fruitless  silence;  but 
I have  seen  my  way  to  nothing.  They  are  well  guarded. 
That  infernal  Secretary  stands  between  them  and — 
people  of  merit.” 

^^If  he  could  be  got  rid  of  ?”  said  she,  brightening  a 
little,  after  more  casting  about. 

Take  time,  Sophronia,”  observed  her  watchful  hus- 
band, in  a patronising  manner. 

If  working  him  out  of  the  way  could  be  presented 
in  the  light  of  a service  to  Mr.  Boffin  ?” 

Take  time,  Sophronia.” 

We  have  remarked  lately,  Alfred,  that  the  old  man 
is  turning  very  suspicious  and  distrustful.” 

Miserly- too,  my  dear;  which  is  far  the  most  un- 
promising for  us.  Nevertheless,  take  time,  Sophronia, 
take  time.” 

She  took  time  and  then  said  : 

Suppose  we  should  address  ourselves  to  that  ten- 
dency in  him  of  which  we  have  made  ourselves  quite 
sure.  Suppose  my  conscience ” 

And  we  know  what  a conscience  it  is,  my  soul. 
Yes?” 

Suppose  my  conscience  should  not  allow  me  to  keep 
to  myself  any  longer  what  that  upstart  girl  told  me  of 
the  Secretary’s  having  made  a declaration  to  her.  Sup- 


MEANING  MISCHIEF.  149 

pose  my  conscience  should  oblige  me  to  repeat  it  to  Mr. 
Boffin.’’ 

I rather  like  that,”  said  Lammle. 

Suppose  I so  repeated  it  to  Mr.  Boffin,  as  to  insinuate 
that  my  sensitive  delicacy  and  honour ” 

Very  good  words,  Sophronia.” 

— As  to  insinuate  that  our  sensitive  delicacy  and 
honour,”  she  resumed,  with  a bitter  stress  upon  the 
phrase,  would  not  allow  us  to  be  silent  parties  to  so 
mercenary  and  designing  a speculation  on  the  Secre- 
tary’s part,  and  so  gross  a breach  of  faith  towards  his 
confiding  employer.  Suppose  I had  imparted  my  virtu- 
ous uneasiness  to  my  excellent  husband,  and  he  had 
said,  in  his  integrity,  ^ Sophronia,  you  must  immedi- 
ately disclose  this  to  Mr.  Boffin.’  ” 

Once  more,  Sophronia,”  observed  Lammle,  changing 
the  leg  on  which  he  stood,  I rather  like  that.” 

You  remark  that  he  is  well  guarded,”  she  pursued. 

I think  so  too.  But  if  this  should  lead  to  his  discharg- 
ing his  Secretary,  there  would  be  a weak  place  made.” 

‘^Go  on  expounding,  Sophronia.  I begin  to  like  this 
very  much.” 

Having,  in  our  unimpeachable  rectitude,  done  him 
the  service  of  opening  his  eyes  to  the  treachery  of  the 
person  he  trusted,  we  shall  have  established  a claim 
upon  him  and  a confidence  with  him.  Whether  it  can 
be  made  much  of,  or  little  of,  we  must  wait — because 
we  can’t  help  it — to  see.  Probably  we  shall  make  the 
most  of  it  that  is  to  be  made.” 

Probably,”  said  Lammle. 

Do  you  think  it  impossible,”  she  asked,  in  the  same 
cold  plotting  way,  ^^that  you  might  replace  the  Secre- 
tary ? ” 

^‘Not  impossible,  Sophronia.  It  might  be  brought 
about.  At  any  rate  it  might  be  skilfully  led  up  to.” 

She  nodded  her  understanding  of  the  hint,  as  she 
looked  at  the  fire.  Mr.  Lammle,”  she  said,  musingly: 
not  without  a slight  ironical  touch:  Mr.  Lammle  would 
be  so  delighted  to  do  anything  in  his  power.  Mr. 
Lammle,  himself  a man  of  business  as  well  as  a capi- 
talist. Mr.  Lammle,  accustomed  to  be  intrusted  with 
the  most  delicate  affairs.  Mr.  Lammle,  who  has  man- 
aged my  own  little  fortune  so  admirably,  but  who,  to 
be  sure,  began  to  make  his  reputation  with  the  advan- 


150 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


tage  of  being  a man  of  property,  above  temptation,  and 
beyond  suspicion.” 

Mr.  Lammle  smiled,  and  even  patted  her  on  the  head. 
In  his  sinister  relish  of  the  scheme,  as  he  stood  above 
her,  making  it  the  subject  of  his  cogitations,  he  seemed 
to  have  twice  as  much  nose  on  his  face  as  he  had  ever 
had  in  his  life. 

He  stood  pondering,  and  she  sat  looking  at  the  dusty 
fire  without  moving,  for  some  time.  But,  the  moment 
he  began  to  speak  again  she  looked  up  with  a wince 
and  attended  to  him,  as  if  that  double-dealing  of  hers 
had  been  in  her  mind,  and  the  fear  were  revived  m her 
of  his  hand  or  his  foot. 

“ It  appears  to  me,  Sophronia,  that  you  have  omitted 
one  branch  of  the  subject.  Perhaps  not,  for  women 
understand  women.  We  might  oust  the  girl  herself?” 

Mrs.  Lammle  shook  her  head.  “ She  has  an  im- 
mensely strong  hold  upon  them  both,  Alfred.  Not  to 
be  compared  with  that  of  a paid  secretary.” 

“ But  the  dear  child,”  said  Lammle,  with  a crooked 
smile,  “ ought  to  have  been  open  with  her  benefactor 
and  benefactress.  The  darling  love  ought  to  have 
reposed  unbounded  confidence  in  her  benefactor  and : 
benefactress.” 

Sophronia  shook  her  head  again. 

“Well!  Women  understand  women,”  said  herhus-- 
band,  rather  disappointed.  “ I don’t  press  it.  It  might 
be  the  making  of  our  fortune  to  make  a clean  sweep  of 
them  both.  With  me  to  manage  the  property,  and  my 
wife  to  manage  the  people — Whew!” 

Again  shaking  her  head,  she  returned:  “They  will 
never  quarrel  with  the  girl.  They  will  never  punish 
the  girl.  We  must  accept  the  girl,  rely  upon  it.” 

“ Well ! ” cried  Lammle,  shrugging  his  shoulders, 
“ so  be  it ; only  always  remember  that  we  don’t  want 
liGr. 

Now,  the  sole  remaining  question  is/’  said  Mrs. 
Lammle,  when  shall  I begin  ? ” 

‘'You  cannot  begin  too  soon,  Sophronia.  As  I have 
told  you,  the  condition  of  our  affairs  is  desperate,  and 
may  be  blown  upon  at  any  moment.” 

“ I must  secure  Mr.  Boffin  alone,  Alfred.  If  his  wife 
was  present,  she  would  throw  oil  upon  the  waters.  I 
know  I should  fail  to  move  him  to  an  angry  outburst  it 


MEANING  MISCHIEF. 


151 


his  wife  was  there.  And  as  to  the  girl  herself— as  I ana 
going  to  betray  her  confidence,  she  is  equally  out  of  the 
question.” 

It  wouldn’t  do  to  write  for  an  appointment  ?’  said 
Lammle. 

“No,  certainly  not.  They  would  wonder  among 
themselves  why  I wrote,  and  I want  to  have  him 
wholly  unprepared.” 

“ Call,  and  ask  to  see  him  alone  ? ” suggested  Lammle. 

“ I would  rather  not  do  that  either.  Leave  it  to  me. 
Spare  me  the  little  carriage  for  to-day,  and  for  to- 
morrow (if  I don’t  succeed  to-day),  and  I’ll  lie  in  wait 
for  him.” 

It  was  barely  settled  when  a manly  forrn  was  seen  to 
pass  the  windows  and  heard  to  knock  and  ring.  “ Here’s 
Fledgeby,”  said  Lammle.  “ He  admires  you,  and  has 
a high  opinion  of  you.  I’ll  be  out.  Coax  him  to  use 
his  infiuence  with  the  Jew.  His  name  is  Riah,  of  the 
House  of  Pubsey  and  Co.  ” Adding  these  words  under 
his  breath,  lest  he  should  be  audible  in  the  erect  ears  of 
Mr.  Fledgeby,  through  two  keyholes  and  the  hall, 
Lammle,  making  signals  of  discretion  to  his  servant, 
went  softly  up-stairs.  * 

“ Mr.  Fledgeby,”  said  Mrs.  Lammle,  giving  him  a 
very  gracious  reception,  “ so  glad  to  see  you  ! My  poor 
dear  Alfred,  who  is  greatly  worried  just  now  about  his 
affairs,  went  out  rather  early.  • Dear  Mr.  Flegeby,  do 
sit  down.” 

Dear  Mr.  Fledgeby  did  sit  down,  and  satisfied  himself 
(or,  judging  from  the  expression  of  his  countenance, 
dissatisfied  himself),  that  nothing  new  had  occurred  in 
the  way  of  whisker-sprouts  since  he  came  round  the 
corner  from  the  Albany. 

“ Dear  Mr.  Fledgeby,  it  was  needless  to  mention  to 
you  that  my  poor  dear  Alfred  is  much  worried  about  his 
affairs  at  present,  for  he  has  told  me  what  a comfort 
you  are  to  him  in  his  temporary  difficulties,  and  what 
a great  service  you  have  rendered  him.  ” 

“ Oh  !”  said  Mr.  Fledgeby. 

“ Yes,”  said  Mrs.  Lammle. 

“ I didn’t  know,”  remarked  Mr.  Fledgeby,  trying  a 
new  part  of  his  chair,  “ but  that  Lammle  might  be  re- 
served about  his  affairs.” 

“ Not  to  me,”  said  Mrs.  Lammle  with  deep  feeling. 


15^ 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Oh,  indeed!  ’’  said  Fledgeby. 

‘'Not  to  me,  dear  Mr.  Fledgeby.  I am  his  wife.’^ 

“ Yes.  I — I always  understood  so,”  said  Mr.  Fledgeby. 

“ And  as  the  wife  of  Alfred,  may  I,  dear  Mr.  Fledgeby, 
wholly  without  his  authority  or  knowledge,  as  I am 
sure  your  discernment  will  perceive,  entreat  you  to 
continue  that  great  service,  and  once  more  use  your 
well-earned  influence  with  Mr.  Riah  for  a little  more 
indulgence?  The  name  I have  heard  Alfred  mention, 
tossing  in  his  drearns,  is  Riah;  is  it  not?  ” 

“ The  name  of  the  Creditor  is  Riah,”  said  Mr.  Fledge- 
by, with  a rather  uncompromising  accent  on  his 
noun-substantive.  “ Saint  Mary  Axe.  Pubsey  and  Co.” 

“Oh  yes!”  exclaimed  Mrs.  Lammle,  clasping  her 
hands  with  a certain  gushing  wildness.  “ Pubsey  and 
Co.!” 

“The  pleading  of  the  feminine ” Mr.  Fledgeby 

began,  and  there  stuck  so  long  for  a word  to  get  on 
with,  that  Mrs.  Lammle  offered  him  sweetly,  “Heart?” 

“No,”  said  Mr.  Fledgeby,  “Gender — is  ever  what  a man 
is  bound  to  listen  to,  and  I wish  it  rested  with  myself. 
But  this  Riah  is  a nasty  one,  Mrs.  Lammle  ; he  really 
is.” 

“ Not  if  you  speak  to  him,  dear  Mr.  Fledgeby.” 

“Upon  my  soul  and  body  he  is  !”  said  Fledgeby. 

“ Try.  Try  once  more,  dearest  Mr.  Fledgeby.  What 
is  there  you  cannot  do  if  you  will  ? ” 

“ Thank  you,”  said  Fledgeby,  “you’re  very  compli- 
mentary to  say  so.  I don’t  mind  trying  him  again  at 
your  request.  But  of  course  I can’t  answer  for  the 
consequences. . Riah  is  a tough  subject,  and  when  he 
says  he’ll  do  a thing,  he’ll  do  it.” 

“Exactly  so,”  cried  Mrs.  Lammle,  “and  when  he 
says  to  you  he’ll  wait,  he’ll  wait.” 

(“  She  is  a devilish  clever  woman,”  thought  Fledgeby. 
“ I didn’t  see  that  opening,  but  she  spies  it  out  and  cuts 
into  it  as  soon  as  it’s  made.”) 

“In  point  of  fact,  dear  Mr.  Fledgeby,”  Mrs.  Lammle 
went  on  in  a very  interesting  manner,  “not  to  affect 
concealment  of  Alfred’s  hopes,  to  you  who  are  so  much 
his  friend,  there  is  a distant  break  in  his  horizon.” 

This  figure  of  speefch  seemed  rather  mysterious  to 
Fascination  Fledgeby,  who  said^  “There’s  a what  in 
his — eh  ? ” 


MEANING  MISCHIEF. 


153 


Alfred,  dear  Mr.  Fledgeby,  discussed  with  me  this 
very  morning  before  he  went  out,  some  prospects  he 
has,  which  might  entirely  change  the  aspect  of  his 
present  troubles.” 

''  Really  ?”  said  Fledgeby. 

O yes  !”  Here  Mrs.  Lammle  brought  her  handker- 
chief into  play.  ''  And  you  know,  dear  Mr.  Fledgeby — 
you  who  study  the  human  heart,  and  study  the  world — 
what  an  affliction  it  would  be  to  lose  position  and  to 
lose  credit,  when  ability  to  tide  over  a very  short  time 
might  save  all  appearances.” 

Oh  ! ” said  Fledgeby.  Then  you  think,  Mrs.  Lam- 
mle, that  if  Lammle  got  time,  he  wouldn’t  burst  up  ? — 
To  use  an  expression,”  Mr.  Fledgeby  apologetically  ex- 
plained, which  is  adopted  in  the  Money  Market.” 

''  Indeed,  yes.  Truly,  truly,  yes  ! ” 

That  makes  all  the  difference,”  said  Fledgeby.  ITl 
make  a point  of  seeing  Riah  at  once.” 

Blessings  on  you,  dearest  Mr.  Fledgeby  !” 

''  Not  at  all,”  said  Fledgeby.  She  gave  him  her  hand. 
‘^The  hand,”  said  Mr.  Fledgeby,  ^'of  a lovely  and  su- 
perior-minded female  is  ever  the  repayment  of  a ” 

‘'Noble  action  !”  said  Mrs.  Lammle,  extremely  anx- 
ious to  get  rid  of  him. 

“ It  wasn’t  what  I was  going  to  say,”  returned  Fledge- 
by, who  never  would,  under  any  circumstances,  accept 
a suggested  expression,  “ but  you’re  very  compli- 
mentary. May  I imprint  a — a one — upon  it  ? Good 
morning  ! ” 

“I  may  depend  upon  your  promptitude,  dearest  Mr. 
Fledgeby  ? ” 

Said  Fledgeby,  looking  back  at  the  door  and  respect- 
fully kissing  his  hand,  “You  may  depend  upon  it.” 

In  fact,  Mr.  Fledgeby  sped  on  his  errand  of  mercy 
through  the  streets  at  so  brisk  a rate  tha  this  feet  might 
have  been  winged  by  all  the  good  spirits  that  wait  on 
Generosity.  They  might  have  taken  up  their  station  in 
his  breast,  too,  for  he  was  blithe  and  mej*ry.  There  was 
quite  a fresh  trill  in  his  voice,  when,  arriving  at  the 
counting-house  in  Saint  Mary  Axe,  and  finding  it  for  the 
moment  empty,  he  trolled  forth  at  the  foot  of  the  stair- 
case: “ Now,  Judah,  what  are  you  up  to  there?” 

The  old  man  appeared  with  his  accustomed  defer- 
ence. 


154 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Halloa!  ’’  said  Fledgeby,  falling  back,  with  a wink. 

You  mean  mischief,  Jerusalem! 

The  old  man  raised  his  eyes  inquiringly. 

''Yes,  you  do,^’  said  Fiedgeby.  "Oh,  you  sinner! 
Oh,  you  dodger!  What!  You’re  going  to  act  upon  that 
bill  of  sale  at  Lammle’s,  are  you?  Nothing  will  turn 
you,  won’t  it?  You  won’t  be  put  off  for  another  single 
minute,  won’t  you?” 

Ordered  to  immediate  action  by  the  master’s  tone  and 
look,  the  old  man  took  up  his  hat  from  the  little  counter 
where  it  lay. 

"You  have  been  told  that  he  might  pull  through  it,  if 
you  didn’t  go  in  to  win,  Wide-Awake;  have  you?”  said 
Fiedgeby.  " And  it’s  not  your  game  that  he  should  pull 
through  it;  ain’t  it?  You  having  got  security,  and 
there  being  enough  to  pay  you?  Oh,  you  Jew!” 

The  old  man  stood  irresolute  and  uncertain  for  a mo- 
ment, as  if  there  might  be  further  instructions  for  him 
in  reserve. 

" Do  I go,  sir?  ” he  at  length  asked  in  a low  voice. 

"Asks  me  if  he  is  going!”  exclaimed  Fiedgeby. 
"Asks  me,  as  if  he  didn’t  know  his  own  purpose!  Asks 
me,  as  if  he  hadn’t  got  his  hat  on  ready!  Asks  me,  as  if 
his  sharp  old  eye — why,  it  cuts  like  a knife — wasn’t  look- 
ing at  his  walking-stick  by  the  door!” 

" Do  I go,  sir?” 

"Do  you  go?”  sneered  Fiedgeby.  "Yes,  you  do  go. 
Toddle,  Judah!” 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

GIVE  A DOG  A BAD  NAME,  AND  HANG  HIM. 

^ ASCINATICN  FLEDGEBY,  left  alone  in  the  count- 
ing-house,  strolled  about  with  his  hat  on  one  side, 
whistling,  and  investigating  the  drawers,  and  prying 
here  and  there  for  any  small  evidences  of  his  being 
cheated,but  could  find  none.  "Not  his  merit  that  he  don’t 
cheat  me,”  was  Mr.  Fledgeby’s  commentary  delivered 
with  a wink,  " but  my  precaution.”  He  then  with  a lazy 


GIVE  A DUG  A BAD  NAME. 


155 


grandeur  asserted  his  rights  as  lord  of  Pubsey  and  Co. 
by  poking  his  cane  at  the  stools  and  boxes,  and  spitting 
in  the  fireplace,  and  so  loitered  royally  to  the  window 
and  looked  out  into  the  narrow  street,  with  his  small 
eyes  just  peering  over  the  top  of  Pubsey  and  Co.’s 
blind.  As  a blind  in  more  senses  than  one,  it  reminded 
him  that  he  was  alone  in  the  counting-house  with  the 
front  door  open.  He  was  moving  away  to  shut  it,  lest 
he  should  be  injudiciously  identified  with  the  establish- 
ment, when  he  was  stopped  by  some  one  coming  to  the 
door. 

This  some  one  was  the  doll’s  dressmaker,  with  a little 
basket  on  her  arm,  and  her  crutch-stick  in  her  hand. 
Her  keen  eyes  had  espied  Mr.  Fledgeby  before  Mr. 
Fledgeby  had  espied  her,  and  he  was  paralysed  in  his 
purpose  of  shutting  her  out,  not  so  much  by  her  ap- 
oroaching  the  door,  as  by  her  favouring  him  with  a 
shower  of  nods  the  instant  he  saw  her.  This  advan- 
tage she  improved  by  hobbling  up  the  steps  with  such 
despatch  that,  before  Mr.  Fledgeby  could  take  measures 
for  her  finding  nobody  at  home,  she  was  face  to  face 
vith  him  in  the  counting-house. 

^^Hope  I see  you  well,  sir,”  said  Miss  Wren.  ^^Mr. 
Riah  in?” 

Fledgeby  had  dropped  into  a chair,  in  the  attitude  of 
one  waiting  wearily.  I suppose  he  will  be  back  soon,” 
he  replied;  he  has  cut  out  and  left  me  expecting  him 
back,  in  an  odd  way.  Haven’t  I seen  you  before?” 

'^Once  before — if  you  had  your  eyesight,”  replied 
Miss  Wren;  the  conditional  clause  in  an  under-tone. 

When  you  were  carrying  on  some  games  up  at  the 
top  of  the  house.  I remember.  How’s  your  friend  ? ” 

I have  more  friends  than  one,  sir,  I hope,”  replied 
Miss  Wren.  Which  friend?” 

Never  mind, said  Mr.  Fledgeby,  shutting  up  one 
eye,  any  of  your  friends,  all  your  friends.  Are  they 
pretty  tglerable  ?” 

Somewhat  confounded.  Miss  Wren  parried  the  pleas- 
antry, and  sat  down  in  a corner  behind  the  door,  with 
her  basket  in  her  lap.  By-and-bye  she  said,  breaking 
a long  and  patient  silence: 

beg  your  pardon,  sir,  but  I am  used  to  find  Mr. 
Riah  at  this  time,  and  so  I generally  come  at  this  time. 
I only  want  to  buy  my  poor  little  two  shillings’  worth 


156 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


of  waste.  Perhaps  you’ll  kindly  let  me  have  it,  and  I’ll 
trot  off  to  my  work.” 

“ 1 let  you  have  it ! ” said  Fledgeby,  turning  his  head  i 
towards  her;  for  he  had  been  sitting  blinking  at  the  i 
light,  and  feeling  his  cheek.  “ Why,  you  don’t  really  i 
suspose  that  I have  anything  to  do  with  the  place,  or  ■ 
the  business;  do  you  ?” 

“Suppose!”  exclaimed  Miss  Wren.  “He  said,  that! 
day,  you  were  the  master.” 

“ The  old  cock  in  black  said  ? Riah  said  ? Why,  he’d 
say  anything.” 

“Well;  but  you  said  so  too,”  returned  Miss  Wren. 
“ Or  at  least  you  took  on  like  the  master,  and  didn’t 
contradict  him.” 

“One  of  his  dodges,”  said  Mr.  Fiedgeby  with  a cool 
and  contemptuous  shrug.  “ He’s  made  of  dodges.  He 
said  to  me,  ‘ Come  up  to  the  top  of  the  house,  sir,  and 
I’ll  show  you  a handsome  girl.  But  I shall  call  you  the 
master.’  So  I went  up  to  the  top  of  the  house,  sir,  and 
he  showed  me  the  handsome  girl  (very  well  worth  look- 
ing at  she  was),  and  I was  called  the  master.  I don’t 
know  why.  I dare  say  he  don’t.  He  loves  a dodge  for 
its  own  sake;  being,”  added  Mr.  Fiedgeby,  after  casting 
about  for  an  expressive  phrase,  “ the  dodgerest  of  all 
the  dodgers.” 

“ Oh,  my  head  ! ” cried  the  doll’s  dressmaker,  holding 
it  with  both  her  hands,  as  if  it  were  cracking.  “ You 
can’t  mean  what  you  say.” 

“I  can,  my  little  woman,”  retorted  Fiedgeby,  “ and  I 
do,  I assure  you.” 

This  repudiation  was  not  only  an  act  of  deliberate 
policy  on  Fledgeby’s  part,  in  case  of  his  being  surprised 
by  any  other  caller,  but  was  also  a retort  upon  Miss 
Wren  for  her  over-sharpness,  and  a pleasant  instance 
of  his  humour  as  regarded  the  old  Jew.  “ He  has  got 
a bad  name  as  an  old  Jew,  and  he  is  paid  for  the  use  of 
it,  and  I’ll  have  my  money’s  worth  out  of  him.”  This 
was  Fledgeby’s  habitual  reflection  in  the  way  of  busi- 
ness, and  it  was  sharpened  just  now  by  the  old  man’s 
presuniing  to  have  a secret  from  him:  though  of  the 
secret  itself,  as  annoying  somebody  else  whom  he  dis- 
liked, he  by  no  means  disapproved. 

Miss  Wren,  with  a fallen  countenance,  sat  behind  the 
door,  looking  thoughtfidly  at  the  ground,  and  the  long 


GIVE  A DOG  A BAD  NAME. 


157 


and  patient  silence  had  again  set  in  for  some  time, 
when  the  expression  of  Mr.  Fledgeby’s  face  betokened 
that  through  the  upper  portion  of  the  door,  which  was 
of  glass,  he  saw  some  one  faltering  on  the  brink  of  the 
counting-house.  Presently  there  was  a rustle  and  a 
tap,  and  then  some  more  rustling  and  another  tap. 
Fledgeby  taking  no  notice,  the  door  was  at  length  softly 
opened,  and  the  dried  face  of  a mild  little  elderly 
gentleman  looked  in. 

''Mr.  Riah  said  this  visitor  very  politely. 

" I am  waiting  for  him,  sir,’’  returned  Mr.  Fledgeby. 
" He  went  out  and  left  me  here.  I expect  him  back 
every  minute.  Perhaps  you  had  better  take  a chair.” 

The  gentleman  took  a chair,  and  put  his  hand  to 
his  forehead,  as  if  he  were  in  a melancholy  frame  of 
mind.  Mr.  Fledgeby  eyed  him  aside,  and  seemed  to  rel- 
ish his  attitude. 

" A fine  day,  sir,”  remarked  Fledgeby. 

The  little  dried  gentleman  was  so  occupied  with  his 
own  depressed  refiections  that  he  did  not  notice  the  re- 
mark until  the  sound  of  Mr.  Fledgeby’s  voi^e  had  died 
out  of  the  counting-house.  Then  he  started,  and  said: 
" I beg  your  pardon,  sir.  I fear  you  spoke  to  me  ? ” 

"I  said,”  remarked  Fledgeby,  a little  louder  than  be- 
fore, "it  was  a fine  day.” 

" I beg  your  pardon.  I beg  your  pardon.  Yes.” 

Again  the  little  dried  gentleman  put  his  hand  to*  his 
forehead,  and  again  Mr.  Fledgeby  seemed  to  enjoy  his 
doing  it.  When  the  gentleman  changed  his  attitude 
with  a sigh,  Fledgeby  spake  with  a grin. 

" Mr.  Twemlow,  I think  ? ” 

The  dried  gentleman  seemed  much  surprised. 

" Had  the  pleasure  of  dining  with  you  at  Lammle’s,” 
said  Fledgeby.  " Even  have  the  honour  of  being  a con- 
nection of  yours.  An  unexpected  sort  of  place  this  to 
meet  in;  but  one  never  knows,  when  one  gets  into  the 
City,  what  people  one  may  knock  up  against.  I hope 
you  have  your  health,  and  are  enjoying  yourself.” 

There  might  have  been  a touch  of  impertinence  in 
the  last  words;  on  the  other  hand,  it  might  have  been 
but  the  native  grace  of  Mr.  Fledgeby’s  manner.  ^Mr. 
Fledgeby  sat  on  a stool  with  a foot  on  the  rail  of  an- 
other stool,  and  his  hat  on.  Mr.  Twemlow  had  un- 
covered on  looking  in  at  the  door,  and  remained  so. 


158  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

Now  the  conscientious  Twemlow,  knowing  what  he 
had  done  to  thwart  the  gracious  Fledgeby,  was  particu- 
larly disconcerted  by  this  encounter.  He  was  as  ill  at 
ease  as  a gentleman  well  could  be.  He  felt  himself 
bound  to  conduct  himself  stiffly  towards  Fledgeby,  and 
he  made  him  a distant  bow.  Fledgeby  made  his  small 
eyes  smaller  in  taking  special  note  of  his  manner.  The 
doll’s  dressmaker  sat  in  her  corner  behind  the  door,  with 
her  eyes  on  the  ground  and  her  hands  folded  on  her 
basket,  holding  her  crutch-stick  between  them,  and 
appearing  to  take  no  heed  of  anything. 

He’s  a long  time,”  muttered  Mr.  Fledgeby,  looking 
at  his  watch.  ^^What  time  may  you  make  it,  Mr. 
Twemlow?” 

Mr.  Twemlow  made  it  ten  minutes  past  twelve,  sir. 

As  near  as  a tohcher,”  assented  Fledgeby.  ''  I hope 
Mr.  Twemlow,  your  business  here  may  be  of  a more 
agreeable  character  than  mine.” 

Thank  you,  sir,”  said  Mr.  Twemlow. 

Fledgeby  again  made  his  small  eyes  smaller,  as  he 
glanced  with  great  complacency  at  Twemlow,  who  was 
timorously  tapping  the  table  with  a folded  letter. 

What  I know  of  Mr.  Riah,”  said  Fledgeby,  with  a 
very  disparaging  utterance  of  his  name,  ''leads  me  to 
believe  that  this  is  about  the  shop  for  disagreeable  busi- 
ness. I have  always  found  him  the  bitingest  and 
tightest  screw  in  London.” 

Mr.  Twemlow  acknowledged  the  remark  with  a little 
distant  bow.  It  evidently  made  him  nervous. 

"So  much  so,”  pursued  Fledgeby,  "that  if  it  wasn’t 
to  be  true  to  a friend,  nobody  should  catch  me  waiting 
here  a single  minute.  But,  if  you  have  friends  in  ad- 
versity, stand  by  them.  That’s  what  I say  and  act  up 
to.” 

The  equitable  Twemlow  felt  that  this  sentiment,  irre- 
spective of  the  utterer,  demanded  his  cordial  assent. 
"You  are  very  right,  sir,”  he  rejoined  with  spirit. 
"You  indicate  the  generous  and  manly  course.” 

"Glad  to  have  your  approbation,”  returned  Fledgeby. 
"It’s  a coincidence,  Mr.  Twemlow;”  here  he  descended 
from  his  perch,  and  sauntered  towards  him;  "that  the 
friends  I am  standing  by  to-day  are  the  friends  at 
whose  house  I met  you  ! The  Lammles.  She’s  a very 
taking  and  agreeable  woman?” 


GIVE  A DOG  A BAD  NAME. 


159 


Conscience  smote  the  gentle  Twemlow  pale.  Yes/’ 
he  said.  ''  She  is.” 

And  wh'en  she  appealed  to  me  this  morning  to  come 
and  try  what  I could  do  to  pacify  their  cremtor,  this 
Mr.  Riah — that  I certainly  have  gained  some  little  in- 
fluence with  in  transacting  business  for  another  friend, 
but  nothing  like  so  much  as  she  supposes — and  when  a 
woman  like  that  spoke  to  me  as  her  dearest  Mr. 
Fledgeby,  and  shed  tears — why,  what  could  I do,  you 
know?” 

Twemlow  gasped  Nothing  but  come.” 

Nothing  but  come.  And  so  I came.  But  why,” 
said  Fledgeby,  putting  his  hands  in  his  pockets  and 
counterfeiting  deep  meditation,  why  Riah  should  have 
started  up  when  I told  him  that  thb  Lammles  entreated 
him  to  hold  over  a Bill  of  Sale  he  has  on  all  their 
effects;  and  why  he  should  have  cut  out,  saying  he 
would  be  back  directly;  and  why  he  should  have  left 
me  here  alone  so  long;  I cannot  understand.” 

The  chivalrous  Twemlow,  Knight  of  the  Simple 
Heart,  was  not  in  a condition  to  offer  any  suggestion. 
He  was  too  penitent,  too  remorseful.  For  the  first  time 
in  his  life  he  had  done  an  underhanded  action,  and  he 
had  done  wrong.  He  had  secretly  interposed  against 
this  confiding  young  man,  for  no  better  real  reason  than 
because  the  young  man’s  ways  were  not  his  ways. 

But  the  confiding  young  man  proceeded  to  heap  coals 
of  fire  on  his  sensitive  head. 

‘^1  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Twemlow;  you  see  I am  ac- 
quainted with  the  nature  of  the  affairs  that  are  trans- 
acted here.  Is  there  anything  I can  do  for  you  here? 
You  have  'always  been  brought  up  as  a gentleman,  and 
never  as  a man  of  business;”  another  touch  of  possible 
impertinence  in- this  place;  and  perhaps  you  are  but 
a poor  man  of  business.  What  else  is  to  be  expected  ! ” 

‘^I  am  even  a poorer  man  of  business  than  I am  a 
man,  sir,”  returned  Twemlow,  and  I could  hardly 
express  my  deficiencv  in  a stronger  way.  I really  do 
not  so  much  as  clearly  understand  my  position  in  the 
matter  on  which  I am  brought  here.  , But  there  are 
reasons  which  make  me  very  delicate  of  accepting  your 
assistance.  I am  greatly,  greatly,  disinclined  to  profit 
by  it.  I don’t  deserve  it.” 

Good  childish  creature  ! Condemned  to  a passage 


160 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


through  the  world  by  such  narrow  little  dimly-lighted 
ways,  and  picking  up  so  few  specks  or  spots  on  the 
road  ! 

Perhaps,”  said  Fledgeby,  you  may  be  a little  proud 
of  entering  on  the  topic — having  been  brought  up  as  a 
gentleman.” 

IPs  not  that,  sir,”  returned  Twemlow,  iPs  not  that. 
I hope  I distinguish  between  true  pride  and  false 
pride.” 

’ I have  no  pride  at  all,  myself,”  said  Fledgeby,  and 
perhaps  I don’t  cut  things  so  fine  as  to  know  one  from 
Pother.  But  I know  this  is  a place  where  even  a man 
of  business  needs  his  wits  about  him  ; and  if  mine  can 
be  of  any  use  to  you  here,  you’re  welcome  to  them.” 

^‘^You  are  very  good,”  said  Twemlow,  faltering. 

But  I am  most  unwilling ” 

‘‘1  don’t,  you  know,”  proceeded  Fledgeby,  with  an 
ill-favoured  glance,  entertain  the  vanity  of  supposing 
that  my  wits  could  be  of  any  use  to  you  in  society,  but 
they  might  be  here.  You  cultivate  society,  and  society 
cultivates  you,  but  Mr.  Riah’s  not  society.  In  society 
Mr.  Riah  is  kept  dark  ; eh,  Mr.  Twemlow  ? ” 

Twemlow,  much  disturbed,  and  with  his  hand  fiutter- 
ing  about  his  forehead,  replied:  Quite  true.” 

The  confiding  young  man  besought  him  to  state  his 
case.  The  innocent  Twemlow,  expecting  Fledgeby  to 
be  astounded  by  what  he  should  unfold,  and  not  for  an 
instant  conceiving  the  possibility  of  its  happening 
every  day,  but  treating  of  it  as  a terrible  phenomenon 
occurring  in  the  course  of  ages,  related  how  that  he  had 
had  a deceased  friend,  a married  civil  officer  with  a 
family,  who  had  wanted  money  for  change  of  place  on 
change  of  post,  and  how  he,  Twemlow,  had  given  him 
his  name,”  with  the  usual,  but  in  the  eyes  of  Twemlow 
almost  incredible  result  that  he  had  been  left  to  repay 
what  he  had  never  had.  How,  in  the  course  of  years, 
he  had  reduced  the  principal  by  trifling  sums,  ‘"hav- 
ing,” said  Twemlow,  “ always  to  observe  great  economy, 
being  in  the  enjoyment  of  a fixed  income  limited  in  ex- 
tent, and  that  depending  on  the  munificence  of  a cer- 
tain nobleman,”  and  had  always  pinched  the  full  inter- 
est out  of  himself  with  punctual  pinches.  How  he 
had  come,  in  course  of  time,  to  look  upon  this  one  only 
debt  of  his  life  as  a regular  quarterly  drawback,  and 


GIVE  A DOG  A BAD  NAME. 


IGl 


no  worse,  when  his  name  ’’  had  some  way  fallen  into 
the  possession  of  Mr.  Riah,  who  had  sent  him  notice  to 
redeem  it  by  paying  up  in  full,  in  one  plump  sum,  or 
take  tremendous  consequences.  This,  with  hazy  re- 
membrances of  how  he  had  been  carried  to  some  office 
to  ''confess  judgment’’  (as  he  recollected  the  phrase), 
and  how  he  had  been  carried  to  another  office  where  his 
life  was  assured  for  somebody  not  wholly  unconnected 
with  the  sherry  trade  whom  he  remembered  by  the  re- 
markable circumstance  that  he  had  a Straduarius  violin 
to  dispose  of,  and  also  a Madonna,  formed  the  sum  and 
substance  of  Mr.  Twemlow’s  narrative.  Through  which 
stalked  the  shadow  of  the  awful  Snigsworth,  eyed  afar 
off  by  money-lenders  as  Security  in  the  Mist,  and 
menacing  Twemlow  with  his  baronial  truncheon. 

To  all  Mr.  Fledgeby  listened  with  the  modest  gravity 
becoming  a confiding  young  man  who  knew  it  all  be- 
forehand, and,  when  it  was  finished,  seriously  shook 
his  head.  "I  don’t  like,  Mr.  Twemlow,”  said  Fledgeby, 
"I  don’t  like  Riah’s  calling  in  the  principal.  If  he’s 
determined  to  call  it  in,  it  must  come.” 

"But  supposing,  sir,”  said  Twemlow,  downcast, 
"that  it  can’t  come?” 

" Then,”  retorted  Fledgeby,  " you  must  go,  you  know.” 

"Where?”  asked  Twemlow,  faintly. 

" To  prison,”  returned  Fledgeby.  Whereat  Mr.  Twem- 
low leaned  his  innocent  head  upon  his  hand,  and 
moaned  a little  moan  of  distress  and  disgrace. 

" However,”  said  Fledgeby,  appearing  to  pluck  up  his 
spirits,  "we’ll  hope  it’s  not  so  bad  as  that  comes  to.  If 
you’ll  allow  me.  I’ll  mention  to  Mr.  Riah  when  he  comes 
in,  who  you  are,  and  I’ll  tell  him  you’re  my  friend,  and 
I’ll  say  my  say  for  you,  instead  of  your  saying  it  for 
yourself;  I may  be  able  to  do  it  in  a more  business-like 
way.  You  won’t  consider  it  a liberty?” 

"I  thank  you  again  and  again,  sir,”  said  Twemdow. 
"I  am  strong,  strongly,  disinclined  to  avail  myself  of 
your  generosity,  though  my  helplessness  yields.  For  I 
cannot  but  feel  that  I — to  put  it  in  the  mildest  form  of 
speech — that  I have  done  nothing  to  deserve  it.” 

"Where  can  he  be?”  muttered  Fledgeby,  referring  to 
his  watch  again.  " What  can  he  have  gone  out  for? 
Did  you  ever  see  him,  Mr.  Twemlow?” 

" Never.” 

VOL.  II. 


11 


162 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


is  a thorough  Jew  to  look  at,  but  he  is  a more 
thorough  Jew  to  deal  with.  He’s  worst  when  he’s  quiet. 
If  he’s  quiet,  I shall  take  it  as  a very  bad  sign.  Keep 
your  eye  upon  him  when  he  comes  in,  and,  if  he’s  quiet, 
don’t  be  hopeful.  Here  he  is! — He  looks  quiet.” 

With  these  words,  which  had  the  effect  of  causing 
the  harmless  Twemlow  painful  agitation,  Mr.  Fledgeby 
withdrew  to  his  former  post,  and  the  old  man  entered 
the  counting-house. 

^^Why,  Mr.  Riah,”  said  Fledgeby,  ‘^1  thought  you 
were  lost! ” 

The  old  man,  glancing  at  the  stranger,  stood  stock- 
still. He  perceived  that  his  master  was  leading  up  to 
the  orders  he  was  to  take,  and  he  waited  to  understand 
them. 

''I  really  thought,”  repeated  Fledgeby  slowly,  ''that 
you  were  lost,  Mr.  Riah.  Why,  now  I look  at  you — but 
no,  you  can’t  have  done  it;  no,  you  can’t  have  done  it!” 

Hat  in  hand,  the  old  man  lifted  his  head,  and  looked 
distressfully  at  Fledgeby  as  seeking  to  know  what  new 
moral  burden  he  was  to  bear. 

"You  can’t  have  rushed  out  to  get  the  start  of  every- 
body else,  and  put  in  that  bill  of  sale  at  Lammle’s?”  said 
Fledgeby.  "Say  you  haven’t,  Mr.  Riah.” 

" Sir,  I have,”  replied  the  old  man  in  a low  voice 

" Oh,  my  eye  ! ” cried  Fledgeby.  " Tut,  tut,  tut ! Dear, 
dear,  dear ! Well ! I knew  you  were  a hard  customer, 
Mr.  Riah,  but  I never  thought  you  were  as  hard  as  that.” 

"Sir,”  said  the  old  man,  with  grea^t  uneasiness,  "I  do 
as  I am  directed.  I am  not  the  principal  here.  I am 
but  the  agent  of  a superior,  and  I have  no  choice,  no 
power.” 

"Don’t  say  so,”  retorted  Fledgeby,  secretly  exultant 
as  the  old  man  stretched  out  his  hands,  with  a shrink- 
ing action  of  defending  himself  against  the  sharp  con- 
struction of  the  two  observers.  "Don’t  play  the  tune 
of  the  trade,  Mr.  Riah.  Y ou’ ve  a right  to  get  in  your  debts, 
if  you’re  determined  to  do  it,  but  don’t  pretend  what 
every  one  in  your  line  regularly  pretends.  At  least, 
don’t  do  it  to  me.  Why  should  you,  Mr.  Riah  ? You 
know  I know  all  about  you.” 

The  old  man  clasped  the  skirt  of  his  long  coat  with 
his  disengaged  hand,  and  directed  a wistful  look  at 
Fledgeby. 


GIVE  A DOG  A BAD  NAME. 


163 


And  don’t/’  said  Fledgeby,  don’t,  I entreat  you  as 
a favour,  Mr.  Riah,  be  so  devilish  meek,  for  I know 
what’ll  follow  if  you  are.  Look  here,  Mr.  P-iah.  This 
gentleman  is  Mr.  Twemlow.” 

The  Jew  turned  to  him  and  bowed.  That  poor  lamb 
bowed  in  return  ; polite  and  terrified. 

have  made  such  a failure,”  proceeded  Fledgeby, 

in  trying  to  do  anything  with  you  for  my  friend 
Lammle,  that  I’ve  hardly  a hope  of  doing  anything  with 
you  for  my  friend  (and  connection  indeed)  Mr.  Twem- 
low. But  I do  think  that  if  you  would  do  a favour  for 
anybody,  you  would  for  me,  and  I won’t  fail  for  want 
of  trying,  and  I’ve  passed  my  promise  to  Mr.  Twemlow 
besides.  Now,  Mr.  foah,  here  is  Mr.  Twemlow.  Always 
good  for  his  interest,  always  coming  up  to  time,  always 
paying  his  little  way.  Now,  why  should  you  press  Mr. 
Twemlow  ? You  can’t  have  any  spite  against  Mr. 
Twemlow  ! Why  not  be  easy  with  Mr.  Twemlow  ? ” 

The  old  man  looked  into  Fledgeby’s  little  eyes  for 
any  sign  of  leave  to  be  easy  with  Mr.  Twemlow  ; but 
there  was  no  sign  in  them. 

/ Mr.  Twemlow  is  no  connection  of  yours,  Mr.  Riah,” 
said  Fledgeby ; ^^you  can’t  want  to  be  even  with  him 
for  having  through  life  gone  in  for  a gentleman  and 
hung  on  to  his  Family.  If  Mr.  Twemlow  has  a contempt 
for  business,  what  can  it  matter  to  you  ? ” 

But  pardon  me,”  interposed  the  gentle  victim,  I 
have  not.  I should  consider  it  presumption.” 

There,  Mr.  Riah  !”  said  Fledgeby,  isn’t  that  hand- 
somely said  ? Come  ! Make  terms  with  me  for  Mr. 
Twemlow.” 

The  old  man  looked  again  for  any  sign  of  permission 
to  spare  the  poor  little  gentleman.  No.  Mr.  Fledgeby 
meant  him  to  be  racked. 

^^I  am  very  sorry,  Mr.  Twemlow,”  said  Riah.  I have 
my  instructions.  I am  invested  with  no  authority  for 
diverging  from  them.  The  money  must  be  paid.” 

In  full  and  slap  down,  do  you  mean,  Mr.  Riah?” 
asked  Fledgeby,  to  make  things  quite  explicit. 

''  In  full,  sir,  and  at  once,”  was  Riah’s  answer. 

Mr.  Fledgeby  shook  his  head  deploringly  at  Twem- 
low, and  mutely  expressed  in  reference  to  the  venerable 
figure  standing  before  him  with  eyes  upon  the  ground  : 

What  a Monster  of  an  Israelite  this  is  ! ” 


1G4 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


''Mr.  Riah  said  Fledgeby. 

The  old  man  lifted  up  his  eyes  once  more  to  the  little 
eyes  in  Mr.  Fledgeby’s  head,  with  some  reviving  hope 
that  the  sign  might  be  coming  yet. 

"Mr.  Riah,  it’s  of  no  use  my  holding  back  the  fact. 
There’s  a certain  great  party  in  the  background  in  Mr. 
Twemlov/s  case,  and  you  know  it.” 

"I  know  it,”  the  old  man  admitted. 

" Now,  I’ll  put  it  as  a plain  point  of  business,  Mr. 
Riah.  Are  you  fully  determined  (as  a plain  point  of 
business)  either  to  have  that  said  great  party’s  security, 
or  that  said  great  party’s  money  ? ” 

"Fully  determined,”  answered  Riah,  as  he  read  his 
master’s  face,  and  learnt  the  book. 

"Not  at  all  caring  for,  and  indeed  as  it  seems  to  me 
rather  enjoying,”  said  Fledgeby,  with  peculiar  unction, 
"the  precious  kick-up  and  row  that  will  come  off  be- 
tween Mr.  Twemlow  and  the  said  great  party  ?” 

This  required  no  answer,  and  received  none.  Poor 
Mr.  Twemlow,  who  had  betrayed  the  keenest  mental 
terrors  since  his  noble  kinsman  loomed  in  the  perspec- 
tive, rose  with  a sigh  to  take  his  departure.  " I thank  you 
very  much,  sir,”  he  said,  offering  Fledgeby  his  feverish 
hand.  "You  have  done  me  an  unmerited  service. 
Thank  you,  thank  you  ! ” 

" Don’t  mention  if,”  answered  Fledgeby.  " It’s  a fail- 
ure so  far,  but  I’ll  stay  behind,  and  take  another  touch 
at  Mr.  Riah.” 

"Do  not  deceive  yourself , Mr.  Twemlow,”  said  the  Jew, 
then  addressing  him  directly  for  the  first  time.  " There 
is  no  hope  for  you.  You  must  expect  no  leniency  here. 
You  must  pay  in  full,  and  you  cannot  pay  too  promptly, 
or  you  will  be  put  to  heavy  charges.  Trust  nothing  to 
me,  sir.  Money,  money,  money.”  When  he  had  said 
these  words  in  an  emphatic  manner,  he  acknowledged 
Mr.  Twemlow’s  still  polite  motion  of  his  head,  and  that 
amiable  little  worthy  took  his  departure  in  the  lowest 
spirits. 

Fascination  Fledgeby  was  in  such  a merry  vein  when 
the  counting-house  was  cleared  of  him,  that  he  had 
nothing  for  it  but  to  go  to  the  window,  and  lean  his 
arms  on  the  frame  of  the  blind,  and  have  his  silent  laugh 
out,  with  his  back  to  his  subordinate.  When  he  turned 
round  again  with  a composed  countenance,  his  subordi- 


GIVE  A DOG  A BAD  KAME. 


105 


nate  still  stood  in  the  same  place,  and  the  dolhs  dress- 
maker sat  behind  the  door  with  a look  of  horror. 

Halloa  cried  Mr.  Fledgeby,  '^you’re  forgetting 
this  young  lady,  Mr.  Riah,  and  she  has  been  waiting 
long  enough  too.  Sell  her  her  waste,  please,  and  give  her 
good  measure,  if  you  can  make  up  your  mind  to  do  the 
liberal  thing  for  once.’’ 

He  looked  on  for  a time,  as  the  Jew  filled  her  little 
basket  with  such  scraps  as  she  was  used  to  buy  ; but, 
his  merry  vein  coming  on  again,  he  was  obliged  to  turn 
round  to  the  window  once  more,  and ' lean  his  arms  on 
the  blind. 

There,  my  Cinderella  dear,”  said  the  old  man  in  a 
whisper,  and  with  a worn-out  look,  ''the  basket’s  full 
now.  Bless  you  ! And  get  you  gone  ! ” 

"Don’t  call  me  your  Cinderella  dear,”  returned  Miss 
Wren.  " Oh,  you  cruel  godmother  !” 

She  shook  that  emphatic  little  forefinger  of  hers  in  his 
face,  at  parting,  as  earnestly  and  reproachfully  as  she 
had  ever  shaken  it  at  her  grim  old  child  at  home. 

"You  are  not  the  godmother  at  all  !”  said  she.  "You 
are  the  Wolf  in  the  Forest,  the  wicked  Wolf  ! And  if 
ever  my  dear  Lizzie  is  sold  and  betrayed,  I shall  know 
who  sold  and  betrayed  her  ! ” 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

MR.  WEGG  PREPARES  A GRINDSTONE  FOR  MR.  BOPFIN’s  NOSE. 

Having  assisted  at  a few  more  expositions  of  the 
lives  of  Misers,  Mr.  Venus  became  almost  indispen- 
sable to  the  evenings  at  the  Bower.  The  circumstance 
of  having  another  listener  to  the  wonders  unfolded  by 
Wegg,  or,  as  it  were,  another  calculator  to  cast  up  the 
guineas  found  in  teapots,  chimneys,  racks  and  mangers, 
and  other  such  banks  of  deposit,  seemed  greatly  to 
heighten  Mr.  Boffin’s  enjoyment ; while  Silas  Wegg,  for 
his  part,  though  of  a jealous  temperament  which  might 
under  ordinary  circumstances  have  resented  the  anato- 
mist’s getting  into  favour,  was  so  very  anxious  to  keep 


166 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


his  eye  on  that  gentleman — lest,  being  too  much  left  to 
himself,  he  should  be  tdmpted  to  play  any  tricks  with 
the  precious  document  in  his  keeping — that  he  never  lost 
an  opportunity  of  commending  him  to  Mr.  BoffiiTs  no- 
tice as  a third  party  whose  company  was  much  to  be 
desired.  Another  friendly  demonstration  towards  him 
Mr.  Wegg  now  regularly  gratified.  After  each  sitting 
was  over,  and  the  patron  had  departed,  Mr.  Wegg  inva- 
riably saw  Mr.  Venus  home.  To  be  sure,  he  as  invariably 
requested*  to  be  refreshed  with  a sight  of  the  paper  in 
which  he  was  a joint  proprietor  ; but  he  never  failed  to 
remark  that  it  was  the  great  pleasure  he  derived  from 
Mr.  Venus’s  improving  society  which  had  insensibly 
lured  him  round  to  Clerkenwell  again,  and  that,  finding 
himself  once  more  attracted  to  the  spot  by  the  social 
powers  of  Mr.  V.,  he  would  beg  leave  to  go  through  that 
little  incidental  procedure,  as  a matter  of  form.  For 
well  I know,  sir,”  Mr.  Wegg  would  add,  ^^that  a man 
of  your  delicate  mind  would  wish  to  be  checked  off  when- 
ever the  opportunity  arises,  and  it  is  not  for  me  to  baulk 
your  feelings.” 

A certain  rustiness  in  Mr.  Venus,  which  never  be- 
came so  lubricated  by  the  oil  of  Mr.  Wegg  but  that  he 
turned  under  the  screw  in  a creaking  and  stiff  manner, 
was  very  noticeable  at  about  this  period.  While  assist- 
ing at  the  literary  evenings,  he  even  went  so  far,  on 
two  or  three  occasions,  as  to  correct  Mr.  Wegg  when  he 
grossly  mispronounced  a word,  or  made  nonsense  of  a 
passage  ; insomuch  that  Mr.  Wegg  took  to  surveying 
his  course  in  the  day,  and  to  marking  arrangements  for 
getting  round  rocks  at  night  instead  of  running  straight 
upon  them.  Of  the  slightest  anatomical  reference  he 
became  particularly  shy,  and,  if  he  saw  a bone  ahead, 
would  go  any  distance  out  of  his  way  rather  than  men- 
tion it  by  name. 

The  adverse  destinies  ordained  that  one  evening  Mr. 
Wegg’s  labouring  bark  became  beset  by  polysyllables, 
and  embarrassed  among  a perfect  archipelago  of  hard 
words.  It  being  necessary  to  take  soundings  every 
minute,  and  to  feel  the  way  with  the  greatest  caution, 
Mr.  Wegg’s  attention  was  fully  employed.  Advantage 
was  taken  of  this  dilemma  by  Mr.  Venus,  to  pass  a 
scrap  of  paper  into  Mr.  Boffin’s  hand,  and  lay  his  finger 
on  his  own  lip. 


A GRINDSTONE  FOR  MR.  BOFFIN’S  NOSE.  1G7 


When  Mr.  Boffin  got  home  at  night  he  found  that  the 
paper  contained  Mr.  Venus’s  card  and  these  words: 

Should  be  glad  to  be  honoured  with  a call  respecting 
business  of  your  own,  about  dusk  on  an  early  evening.” 

The  very  next  evening  saw  Mr.  Boffin  peeping  in  at 
the  preserved  Jfrogs  in  Mr.  Venus’s  shop- window,  and 
saw  Mr.  Venus  espying  Mr.  Boffin  with  the  readiness  of 
one  on  the  alert,  and  beckoning  that  gentleman  into  his 
interior.  Responding,  Mr.  Boffin  was  invited  to  seat 
himself  on  the  box  of  human  miscellanies  before  the 
fire,  and  did  so,  looking  round  the  place  with  admiring 
eyes.  The  fire  being  low  and  fitful,  and  the  dusk  gloomy, 
the  whole  stock  seemed  to  be  winking  and  blinking 
with  both  eyes,  as  Mr.  Venus  did.  The  French  gentle- 
man, though  he  had  no  eyes,  was  not  at  all  behindhand, 
but  appeared,  as  the  flame  rose  and  fell,  to  open 
and  shut  his  no  eyes,  with  the  regularity  of  the  glass- 
eyed dogs  and  ducks  and  birds.  The  big-headed  babies 
were  equally  obliging  in  lending  their  grotesque  aid  to 
the  general  effect. 

''You  see,  Mr.  Venus,  I’ve  lost  no  time,”  said  Mr. 
Boffin.  " Here  I am.” 

" Here  you  are,  sir,”  assented  Mr.  Venus. 

" I don’t  like  secresy,”  pursued  Mr.  Boffin — " at  least 
not  in  a general  way  I don’t — but  I dare  say  you’ll  show 
me  good  reason  for  being  secret  so  far.” 

" I think  I shall,  sir,”  returned  Venus. 

" Good,”  said  Mr.  Boffin.  "You  don’t  expect  Wegg, 
I take  it  for  granted  ? ” 

"No,  sir.  I expect  no  one  but  the  present  company.” 

Mr.  Boffin  glanced  about  him,  as  accepting  under 
that  inclusive  denomination  the  French  gentleman  and 
the  circle  in  which  he  didn’t  move,  and  repeated,  " The 
present  company.” 

" Sir,”  said  Mr.  Venus,  "before  entering  upon  busi- 
ness, I shall  have  to  ask  you  for  your  word  and  honour 
that  we  are  in  confidence.” 

" Let’s  wait  a bit  and  understand  what  the  expres- 
sion means,”  answered  Mr.  Boffin.  " In  confidence  for 
how  long  ? In  confidence  for  ever  and  a day  ? ” 

" I take  your  hint,  sir,”  said  Venus  ; " you  think  you 
might  consider  the  business,  when  you  came  to  know 
it,  to  be  of  a nature  incompatible  with  confidence  on 
your  part  ? ” 


168 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


I might/’  said  Mr.  Boffin  with  a cautious  look. 

''True,  sir.  Well,  sir,”  observed  Venus,  after  clutch- 
ing at  his  dusty  hair,  to  brighten  his  ideas,  " let  us  put 
it  another  way.  I open  the  business  with  you,  relying 
upon  your  honour  not  to  do  anything  in  it,  and  not  to 
mention  me  in  it,  without  my  knowledge.” 

"That  sounds  fair,”  said  Mr.  Boffin.  "I  agree  to 
that.” 

" I have  your  word  and  honour,  sir?  ” 

" My  good  fellow,”  retorted  Mr.  Boffin,"  you  have  mj 
word;  and  how  you  can  have  that, without  my  honour 
too,  I don’t  know.  I’ve  sorted  a lot  of  dust  in  my  time, 
but  I never  knew  the  two  things  go  into  separate 
heaps.” 

This  remark  seemed  rather  to  abash  Mr.  Venus.  He 
hesitated,  and  said,"  Very  true,  sir;”  and  again,  "Very 
true,  sir,”  before  resuming  the  thread  of  his  discourse. 

" Mr.  Boffin,  if  I confess  to  you  that  I fell  into  a pro- 
posal of  which  you  were  the  subject,  and  of  which  you 
oughtn’t  to  have  been  the  subject,  you  will  allow  me  to 
mention,  and  will  please  take  into  favourable  considera- 
tion, that  I was  in  a crushed  state  of  mind  at  the 
time.” 

The  Golden  Dustman,  with  his  hands  folded  on  the 
top  of  his  stout  stick,  with  his  chin  resting  upon  them, 
and  with  something  leering  and  whimsical  in  his  eyes, 
gave  a nod,  and  said,  " Quite  so,  Venus.” 

" That  proposal,  sir,  was  a conspiring  breach  of  your 
confidence  to  such  an  extent,  that  I ought  at  once  to 
have  made  it  known  to  you.  But  I didn’t,  Mr.  Boffin, 
and  I fell  into  it.” 

Without  moving  eye  or  finger,  Mr.  Boffin  gave  another 
nod,  and  placidly  repeated,  " Quite  so,  Venus.” 

"Not  that  Iw^as  ever  hearty  in  it,  sir,”  the  penitent 
anatomist  went  on,  " or  that  I ever  viewed  myself  with 
anything  but  reproach  for  having  turned  out  of  the 

paths  of  science  into  the  paths  of ” he  was  going  to 

say  "villainy,”  but,  unwilling  to  press  too  hard  upon 
himself,  substituted  with  great  emphasis — " Weggery.” 

Placid  and  whimsical  of  look  as  ever,  Mr.  Boffin  an . 
swered:  "Quite  so,  Venus.” 

" And  now,  sir,”  said  Venus,"  having  prepared  your 
mind  in  the  rough,  I will  articulate  the  details.”  With 
which  brief  professional  exordium,  he  entered  on  the 


A GRINDSTONE  FOR  MR.  BOFFIN’S  NOSE.  IGO 

history  of  the  friendly  move,  and  truly  recounted  it. 
One  might  have  thought  that  it  would  have  extracted 
some  show  of  surprise  or  anger,  or  other  emotion,  from 
Mr.  Boffin,  but  it  extracted  nothing  beyond  his  former 
comment:  Quite  so,  Venus.” 

^‘I  have  astonished  you,  sir,  I believe?”  said  Mr. 
Venus,  pausing  dubiously. 

Mr.  Boffin  simply  answered  as  aforesaid:  Quite  so, 
Venus.” 

By  this  time  the  astonishment  was  all  on  the  other 
side.  It  did  not,  however,  so  continue.  For,  when 
Venus  passed  to  Wegg’s  discovery,  and  from  that  to 
their  having  both  seen  Mr.  Boffin  dig  up  the  Dutch 
bottle,  that  gentleman  changed  colour,  changed  his 
attitude,  became  extremely  restless,  and  ended  (when 
Venus  ended)  by  being  in  a state  of  manifest  anxiety, 
trepidation,  and  confusion. 

^^Now,  sir,”  said  Venus,  finishing  oft;  ^^you  best 
know  what  was  in  that  Dutch  bottle,  and  why  you  dug 
it  up,  and  took  it  away.  I don’t  pretend  to  know  any- 
thing more  about  it  than  I saw.  All  I know  is  this:  I 
am  proud  of  my  calling  after  all  (though  it  has  been 
attended  by  one  dreadful  drawback  which  has  told 
upon  my  heart,  and  almost  equally  upon  my  skeleton), 
and  I mean  to  live  by  my  calling.  Putting  the  same 
meaning  into  other  words,  I do  not  mean  to  turn  a single 
dishonest  penny  by  this  affair.  As  the  best  amends  I can 
make  you  for  having  ever  gone  into  it,  I make  known 
to  you,  as  a warning,  what  Wegg  has  found  out.  My 
opinion  is,  that  Wegg  is  not  to  be  silenced  at  a modest 
price,  and  I build  that  opinion  on  his  beginning  to  dis- 
pose of  your  property  the  moment  he  knew  his  power. 
Whether  it’s  worth  your  while  to  silence  him  at  any 
price,  you  will  decide  for  yourself,  and  take  your  meas- 
ures accordingly.  As  far  as  I am  concerned,  I have  no 
price.  If  I am  ever  called  upon  for  the  truth,  I tell  it, 
but  I want  to  do  no  more  than  I have  now  done  and 
ended.” 

Thankee,  Venus!”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  with  a hearty 
grip  of  his  hand;  thankee,  Venus,  thankee,  Venus! ” 
And  then  walked  up  and  down  the  little  shop  in  great 
agitation.  But  look  here,  Venus,”  he  by-and-bye  re- 
sumed, nervously  sitting  down  again;  ^^If  I have  to 
buy  Wegg  up,  I shan’t  buy  him  any  cheaper  for  your 


J70 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIENU. 


being  out  of  it.  Instead  of  liis  having  half  the  money— 
it  was  to  have  been  half,  I suppose?  Share  and  share 
alike?” 

“ It  was  to  have  been  half,  sir,”  answered  Venus. 

“ Instead  of  that,  he’ll  now  have  all.  I shall  pay  the 
same,  if  not  more.  For  you  tell  me  he’s  an  unconscion- 
able dog,  a ravenous  rascal.” 

“ He  is,”  said  Venus. 

“Don’t  you  think,  Venus,”  insinuated  Mr.  Boffin, 
after  looking  at  the  fire  for  a while— “ don’t  you  feel  as 
if — you  might  like  to  pretend  to  be  in  it  till  W egg  was 
bought  up,  and  then  ease  your  mind  by  handing  over  to 
me  what  you  had  made  believe  to  pocket?  ’ 

“No.  I don’t,  sir,”  returned  Venus  very  positively. 

“Not  to  make  amends?”  insinuated  Mr.  Boffin. 

“No,  sir.  It  seems  to  me,  after  maturely  thinking  it 
over,  that  the  best  amends  for  having  got  out  of  the 
square  is  to  get  back  into  the  square.” 

“Humph!”  mused  Mr.  Boffin.  “ When  you  say  the 
square,  you  mean ” 

“ I mean,  said  Venus,  stoutly  and  shortly,  “the  right. 

“ It  appears  to  me,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  grumbling  oyer 
the  fire  in  an  injured  manner,  “ that  the  right  is  with 
me,  if  it’s  anywhere.  I have  much  more  right  to  the 
old  man’s  money  than  the  Crown  can  ever  have.  What 
was  the  Crown  to  him  except  the  King’s  Taxes?  Where- 
as me  and  my  wife,  we  was  all  in  all  to  him.” 

Mr.  Venus,  with  his  head  upon  his  hands,  rendered 
melancholy  by  the  contemplation  of  Mr.  Boffin’s  avarice, 
only  murmured  to  steep  himself  in  the  luxury  of  that 
frame  of  mind:  “ She  did  not  wish  so  to  regard  her- 
self, nor  yet  to  be  so  regarded.” 

“ And  how  am  I to  live,”  asked  Mr.  Boffin,  piteously. 
“ if  I’m  to  be  going  buying  fellows  up  out  of  the  little 
that  I’ve  got  ? And  how  am  I to  set  about  it?  When 
am  I to  get  my  money  ready  ? When  am  I to  make  a 
bid?  You  haven’t  told  me  when  he  threatens  to  drop 

down  upon  me.”  . . i • n 

Venus  explained  under  what  conditions,  and  with 
what  views,  the  dropping  down  upon  Mr.  Boffin  was 
held  over  until  the  Mounds  should  be  cleared  away. 
Mr.  Boffin  listened  attentively.  “I  suppose,”  said  he, 
with  a gleam  of  hope,  “ there’s  no  doubt  about  the 
genuineness  and  date  of  this  confounded  will?” 


A GRINDSTONE  FOR  MR.  BOFFIN’S  NOSE.  171 


None  whatever/’  said  Mr.  Venus. 

Where  might  it  be  deposited  at  present?”  asked 
Mr.  Boffin,  in  a wheedling  tone.” 

^^It’s  in  my  possession,  sir.” 

Is  it?”  he  cried,  with  great  eagerness.  ^^Now,  for 
any  liberal  sum  of  money  that  could  be  agreed  upon, 
Venus,  would  you  put  it  in  the  fire?” 

^^No  sir,  I wouldn’t,”  interrupted  Mr.  Venus. 

^^Nor  pass  it  over  tome?” 

^^That  would  be  the  same  thing.  No,  sir,”  said  Mr. 
Venus. 

The  Golden  Dustman  seemed  about  to  pursue  these 
questions,  when  a stumping  noise  was  heard  outside, 
coming  towards  the  door.  ^^Hush!  here’s  Wegg!” 
said  Venus.  Get  behind  the  young  alligator  in  the 
corner,  Mr.  Boffin,  and  judge  him  for  yourself.  I 
won’t  light  a candle  till  he’s  gone;  there’ll  only  be  the 
glow  of  the  fire;  Wegg’s  well  acquainted  with  the  alli- 
gator, and  he  won’t  take  particular  notice  of  him. 
Draw  your  legs  in,  Mr.  Boffin ; at  present  I see  a pair 
of  shoes  at  the  end  of  his  tail.  Get  your  head  well  be- 
hind his  smile,  Mr.  Boffin,  and  you’ll  lie  comfortable 
there;  you’ll  find  plenty  of  room  behind  his  smile.  He’s 
a little  dusty,  but  he’s  very  like  you  in  tone.  Are 
you  right,  sir?” 

Mr.  Boffin  had  but  whispered  an  affirmative  re- 
sponse, when  Wegg  came  stumping  in.  Partner,” 
said  that  gentleman  in  a sprightly  manner,  ^Glow’s 
yourself  ? ” 

Tolerable,”  returned  Mr.  Venus.  ^^Not  much  to 
boast  of.” 

^Gn-deed!”  said  Wegg:  sorry,  partner,  that  you’re 
not  picking  up  faster,  but  your  soul’s  too  large  for 
your  body,  sir;  that’s  where  it  is.  And  how’s  our  stock- 
in-trade,  partner?  Safe  bind,  safe  find,  partner  ? Is 
that  about  it?” 

^^Do  you  wish  to  see  it  ? ” asked  Venus. 

“If  you  please,  partner,”  said  Wegg,  rubbing  his 
hands.  wish  to  see  it  jintly  with  yourself.  Or,  in 
similar  words  to  some  that  was  set  to  music  some  time 
back: 

‘ I wish  you  to  see  it  with  your  eyes, 

And  I will  pledge  with  mine.’  ” 

Turning  his  back  and  turning  a key,  Mr.  Venus  pro- 


172 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


duced  the  document,  holding  on  by  his  usual  corner. 
Mr.  Wegg,  holding  on  by  the  opposite  corner,  sat  down 
on  the  seat  so  lately  vacated  by  Mr.  Boffin,  and  looked 
it  over.  ‘‘All,  right  sir,”  he  slowly  and  unwillingly 
admitted,  in  his  reluctance  to  loose  his  hold,  “All 
right!  ” And  greedily  v/atched  his  partner  as  he  turned 
his  back  again,  and  turned  his  key  again. 

“There’s  nothing  new,  I suppose!”  said  Yenus,  re- 
suming his  low  chair  behind  the  counter. 

“Yes  there  is,  sir,”  replied  Wegg;  “there  was  some- 
thing new  this  morning.  That  foxy  old  grasper  and 
griper ” 

“ Mr.  Boffin?”  inquired  Venus,  with  a glance  towards 
the  alligator’s  yard  or  two  of  smile. 

“Mister  be  blowed!”  cried  Wegg,  yielding  to  his 
honest  indignation.  “Boffin.  Dusty  Boffin.  That  foxy 
old  grunter  and  grinder,  sir,  turns  into  the  yard  this 
morning,  to  meddle  with  our  property,  a menial  tool  of 
his  own,  a young  man  by  the  name  of  Sloppj^  Ecod, 
when  I say  to  him,  ‘What  do  you  want  here,  young 
man  ? This  is  a private  yard,’  he  pulls  out  a paper 
from  Boffin’s  other  blackguard,  the  one  I w^as  passed 
over  for.  ‘ This  is  to  authorise  Sloppy  to  overlook  the 
carting  and  to  w^atch  the  work.’  That’s  pretty  strong, 
I think,  Mr.  Venus?” 

“ Remember  he  doesn’t  know  vet  of  our  claim  on  the 
property,”  suggested  Venus. 

“ Then  he  must  have  a hint  of  it,”  said  Wegg,  “ and 
a strong  one  that’ll  jog  his  terrors  a bit.  Give  him  an 
inch,  and  he’ll  take  an  ell.  Let  him  alone  this  time, 
and  what’ll  he  do  with  our  property  next?  I tell  you 
what,  Mr.  Venus  : it  comes  to  this;  I must  be  overbear- 
ing with  Boffin,  or  I shall  fly  into  several  pieces.  I can’t 
contain  myself  when  I look  at  him.  Every  time  I see 
him  putting  his  hand  in  his  pocket  I see  him  putting  it 
into  my  pocket.  Every  time  I hear  him  jingling  his 
money,  I hear  him  taking  liberties  with  my  money. 
Flesh  and  blood  can’t  bear  it.  No,”  said  Mr.  Wegg, 
greatly  exasperated,  “ and  I’ll  go  further.  A wooden 
leg  can’t  bear  it!  ” 

“ But,  Mr.  Wegg,”  urged  Venus,  “ it  was  your  own 
idea  that  he  should  not  be  exploded  upon,  till  the  Mounds 
were  carted  away.” 

“But  it  was  likewise  my  idea,  Mr.  Venus,”  retorted 


A GRINDSTONE  FOR  MR.  BOFFIN’S  NOSE.  173 


Wegg,  that  if  he  came  sneaking  and  sniffing  about 
the  property,  he  should  be  threatened,  given  to  under- 
stand that  he  has  no  right  to  it,  and  be  made  our  slave. 
Wasn’t  that  my  idea,  Mr.  Venus?” 

It  certainly  was,  Mr.  Wegg.” 

''It  certainly  was,  as  you  say,  partner,”  assented 
Wegg,  put  into  a better  humour  by  the  ready  admission. 
"Very  well.  I consider  his  planting  one  of  his  menial 
tools  in  the  yard  an  act  of  sneaking  and  sniffing.  And 
his  nose  shall  be  put  to  the  grindstone  for  it.” 

" It  was  not  your  fault,  Mr.  Wegg,  I must  admit,”  said 
Venus,  "that  he  got  off  with  the  Dutch  bottle  that  night.” 

" As  you  handsomely  say  again,  partner  ! No,  it  was 
not  my  fault.  I’d  have  had  that  bottle  out  of  him. 
Was  it  to  be  borne  that  he  should  come,  like  a thief  in 
the  dark,  digging  among  stuff  that  was  far  more  ours 
than  his  (seeing  that  we  could  deprive  him  of  every 
grain  of  it,  if  he  didn’t  buy  us  at  our  own  figure),  and 
carrying  off  treasures  from  its  bowels  ? No,  it  was  not 
to  be  borne.  And  for  that,  too,  his  nose  shall  be  put  to 
the  grindstone.” 

" How  do  you  propose  to  do  it,  Mr.  Wegg?  ” 

"To  put  his  nose  to  the  grindstone?  I propose,”  re- 
turned that  estimable  man,  "to  insult  him  openly. 
And  if,  looking  into  this  eye  of  mine,  he  dares  to  offer 
a word  in  answer,  to  retort  upon  him  befo.re  he  can 
take  his  breath  ' Add  another  word  to  that,  you  dusty 
old  dog,  and  you’re  a beggar  ! ’ ” 

"Suppose  he  says  nothing,  Mr.  Wegg?” 

" Then,”  replied  Wegg,"  we  shall  have  come  to  an  un- 
derstanding with  very  little  trouble,  and  I’ll  break  him 
and  drive  him.  Mr.  Venus,  I’ll  put  him  in  harness,  and 
I’ll  bear  him  up  tight,  and  I’ll  break  him  and  drive 
him.  The  harder  the  old  Dust  is  driven,  sir,  the  higher 
he’ll  pay.  And  I mean  to  be  paid  high,  Mr.  Venus,  I 
promise  you.” 

"You  speak  quite  revengefully,  Mr.  Wegg.” 

" Revengefully,  sir  ! Is  it  for  him  that  1 have  de- 
clined and  failed  night  after  night  ? Is  it  for  his 
pleasure  that  I’ve  waited  at  home  of  an  evening,  like  a 
set  of  skittles,  to  be  set  up  and  knocked  over,  set  up 
and  knocked  over,  by  whatever  balls — or  books— he 
choose  to  bring  against  me  ? Why,  I’m  a hundred 
times  the  man  he  is,  sir;  five  hundred  times  ! ” 


174 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Perhaps  it  was  with  the  malicious  intent  of  urging 
him  on  to  his  worst  that  Mr.  Venus  looked  as  if  he 
doubted  that. 

“ What ! Was  it  outside  the  house  at  present  ockj  • 
pied,  to  its  disgrace,  by  that  minion  of  fortune  and 
worm  of  the  hour,”  said  Wegg,  falling  back  upon  his 
strongest  terms  of  reprobation,  and  slapping  the  counter, 
“that  I,  Silas  Wegg,  five  hundred  times  the  man  he 
ever  was,  sat  in  all  weathers,  waiting  for  a errand  or  a 
customer?  Was  it  outside  that  very  house  as  I first  set 
eyes  upon  him,  rolling  in  the  lap  of  luxury,  when  I was 
a selling  halfpenny  ballads  there  for  a living?  And 
am  I to  grovel  in  the  dust  for  him  to  walk  over  ? No  ! ” 

There  was  a grin  upon  the  ghastly  countenance  of 
the  French  gentleman  under  the  influence  of  the  fire- 
light, as  if  he  were  computing  how  many  thousand 
slanderers  and  traitors  array  themselves  against  the 
fortunate,  on  premises  exactly  answering  to  those  of 
Mr.  W egg.  One  might  have  fancied  that  the  big-headed 
babies  were  toppling  over  with  their  hydrocephalic  at- 
tempts to  reckon  up  the  children  of  men  who  transform 
their  benefactors  into  their  injurers  by  the  same  process. 
The  yard  or  two  of  smile  on  the  part  of  the  alligator 
might  have  been  invested  with  the  meaning,  “All 
about  this  was  quite  familiar  knowledge  down  in  the 
depths  of. the  slime,  ages  ago.” 

“But,”  said  Wegg,  possibly  with  some  slight  percep- 
tion to  the  foregoing  effect,  “ your  speaking  countenance 
remarks,  Mr.  Venus,  that  I’m  duller  and  savager  than 
usual.  Perhaps  I have  allowed  myself  to  brood  too 
much.  Begone,  dull  Care!  ’Tis  gone  sir.  I’ve  looked 
in  upon  you,  and  empire  resumes  her  sway.  For,  as  the 
song  says — subject  to  your  correction,  sir — 

' When  the  heart  of  man  is  depressed  with  cares. 

The  mist  is  dispelled  if  Venus  appears. 

Like  the  notes  of  a fiddle,  you  sweetly,  sir,  sweetly, 

Baises  our  spirits  and  charms  our  ears.  ' 

Good-night  sir.” 

“I  shall  have  a word  or  two  to  say  to  you,  Mr.  Wegg, 
before  long,”  remarked  Venus,  “respecting  my  share 
in  the  project  we’ve  been  speaking  of.” 

“ My  time,  sir,”  returned  Wegg,  “is  yours.  In  the 
meanwhile  let  it  be  fully  understood  that  I shall  not  neg- 
lect bringing  the  grindstone  to  bear,  nor  yet  bringing 


A GRINDSTONE  FOR  MR.  BOFFIN ^S  NOSE.  175 


Dusty  Boffin’s  nose  to  it.  His  nose  once  brought  to  it 
shall  be  held  to  it  by  these  hands,  Mr.  Venus,  till  the 
sparks  flies  out  in  showers.” 

With  this  agreeable  promise  Wegg  stumped  out,  and 
shut  the  shop-door  after  him.  Wait  till  I light  a can- 
dle, Mr.  Boffin,”  said  Venus,  ^^and  youTl  come  out 
more  comfortable.”  So,  he  lighting  a candle  and 
holding  it  up  at  arm’s  length,  Mr.  Boffin  disengaged 
himself  from  behind  the  alligator’s  smile,  with  an  ex- 
pression of  countenance  so  very  downcast  that  it  not 
only  appeared  as  if  the  alligator  had  the  whole  of  the 
joke  to  himself,  but  further  as  if  it  had  been  conceived 
and  executed  at  Mr.  Boffin’s  expense. 

^‘That’s  a treacherous  fellow,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  dusting 
his  arms  and  legs  as  he  came  forth,  the  alligator  having 
been  but  musty  company.  ‘‘  That’s  a dreadful  fellow.” 

^^The  alligator,  sir?”  said  Venus. 

^^No,  Venus,  no.  The  Serpent.” 

You’ll  have  the  goodness  to  notice,  Mr.  Boffin,”  re- 
marked Venus,  that  I said  nothing  to  him  about  my 
going  out  of  the  affair  altogether,  because  I didn’t  wish 
to  take  you  anyways  by  surprise.  But  I can’t  be  too 
soon  out  of  it  for  my  satisfaction,  Mr.  Boffin,  and  I now 
put  it  to  you  when  it  will  suit  your  views  for  me  to 
retire  ? ” 

Thankee,  Venus,  thankee,  Venus;  but  I don’t  know 
what  to  say,”  returned  Mr.  Boffin,  I don’t  know  what 
to  do.  He’ll  drop  down  on  me  anyway.  He  seems  fully 
determined  to  drop  down  ; don’t  he  ? ” 

Mr.  Venus  opined  that  such  was  clearly  his  intention. 

You  might  be  a sort  of  protection  for  me,  if  you  re- 
mained to  it,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  '^you  might  stand 
betwixt  him  and  me,  and  take  the  edge  off  him.  Don’t 
you  feel  as  if  you  could  make  a show  of  remaining  in 
it,  Venus,  till  I had  time  to  turn  myself  round  ?” 

Venus  naturally  inquired  how  long  Mr.  Boffin  thought 
it  might  take  hipi  to  turn  himself  round  ? 

am  sure  I don’t  know,”  was  the  answer,  given 
quite  at  a loss.  Everything  is  so  at  sixes  and  sevens. 
If  I had  never  come  into  the  property,  I shouldn’t  have 
minded.  But  being  in  it,  it  would  be  very  trying  to  be 
turned  out;  now,  don’t  you  acknowledge  that  it  would, 
Venus?” 

Mr.  Venus  preferred,  he  said,  to  leave  Mr.  Boffin  to 


176 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


arrive  at  his  own  conclusions  on  that  delicate  question, 
am  sure  I don’t  know  what  to  do/’  said  Mr.  Boffin. 

If  I ask  advice  of  any  one  else,  it’s  only  letting  in  an- 
other person  to  be  bought  out,  and  then  I shall  be 
ruined  that  way,  and  might  as  well  have  given  up  the 
property  and  gone  slap  to  the  workhouse.  If  I was  to 
take  advice  of  my  young  man,  Rokesmith,  I should  have 
to  buy  him  out.  Sooner  or  later,  of  course,  he’d  drop 
down  upon  me,  like  Wegg.  I was  brought  into  the 
world  to  be  dropped  down  upon,  it  appears  to  me.” 

Mr.  Venus  listened  to  these  lamentations  in  silence, 
while  Mr.  Boffin  jogged  to  and  fro,  holding  his  pockets 
as  if  he  had  a pain  in  them. 

After  all,  you  haven’t  said  what  you  mean  to  do 
yourself,  Venus.  When  you  do  go  out  of  it,  how  do 
you  mean  to  go  ? ” 

Venus  replied  that,  as  Wegg  had  found  the  document 
and  handed  it  to  him,  it  was  his  intention  to  hand  it 
back  to  Wegg,  with  the  declaratioxi  that  he  himself 
would  have  nothing  to  say  to  it,  or  do  with  it,  and 
that  Wegg  must  act  as  he  chose,  and  take  the  conse- 
quences. 

'^And  then  he  drops  down  with  his  whole  weight 
upon  me  !”  cried  Mr.  Boffin,  ruefully.  I’d  sooner  be 
dropped  upon  by  you  than  by  him,  or  even  by  you  jintly, 
than  by  him  alone  ! ” 

Mr.  Venus  could  only  repeat  that  it  was  his  fixed  in- 
tention to  betake  himself  to  the  paths  of  science,  and  to 
walk  in  the  same  all  the  days  of  his  life  ; not  dropping 
down  upon  his  fellow-creatures  until  they  were  de- 
ceased, and  then  only  to  articulate  them  to  the  best  of 
his  humble  ability. 

How  long  could  you  be  persuaded  to  keep  up  the 
appearance  of  remaining  in  it  ? ” asked  Mr.  Boffin,  re- 
tiring on  his  other  idea.  Could  you  be  got  to  do  so, 
till  the  Mounds  are  gone  ? ” 

No.  That  would  protract  the  mental  uneasiness  of 
Mr.  Venus  too  long,  he  said. 

"^Not  if  I was  to  show  you  reason  now  ? ” demanded 
Mr.  Boffin  ; ''not  if  I was  to  show  you  good  and  suf- 
ficient reason  ? ” 

If  by  good  and  sufficient  reason  Mr.  Boffin  meant 
honest  and  unimpeachable  reason,  that  might  weigh 
with  Mr.  Venus  against  his  personal  wishes  and  con- 


A GRINDSTONE  FOR  MR.  BOFFIN’S  NOSE.  177 

venience.  But  he  must  add  that  he  saw  no  opening  to 
the  possibility  of  such  reason  being  shown  him. 

"'Come  and  see  me,  Venus,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  " at  my 
house.” 

"Is  the  reason  there,  sir?”  asked  Mr.  Venus,  with  an 
incredulous  smile  and  blink. 

"It  may  be,  or  may  not  be,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  "just 
as  you  view  it.  But  in  the  meantime  don’t  go  out  of  the 
matter.  Look  here.  Do  this.  Give  me  your  word  that 
you  won’t  take  any  steps  with  Wegg,  without  my  knowl- 
edge, just  as  I have  given  you  my  word  that  I won’t 
without  yours.” 

"Done,  Mr.  Boffin,”  said  Venus  after  brief  consid- 
eration. 

"Thankee,  Venus,  thankee,  Venus!  Done  I” 

"When  shall  I come  to  see  you,  Mr.  Boffin  ?” 

"When  you  like.  The  sooner  the  better.  I must  be 
going  now.  Good-night,  Venus.” 

"Good-night,  sir.” 

" And  good-night  to  the  rest  of  the  present  company,” 
said  Mr.  Boffin,  glancing  round  the  shop.  " They  make 
a queer  show,  Venus,  and  I should  like  to  be  better  ac- 
quainted with  them  some  day.  Good-night,  Venus, 
good-night  1 Thankee,  Venus,  thankee,  Venus!”  With 
that  he  jogged  out  into  the  street,  and  jogged  upon  his 
homeward  way. 

"Now,  I wonder,”  he  meditated  as  he  went  along, 
nursing  his  stick,  " whether  it  can  be  that  Venus  is  set- 
ting himself  to  get  the  better  of  Wegg  ? Whether  it 
can  be,  that  he  means,  when  I have  bought  Wegg  out, 
to  have  me  all  to  himself  and  to  pick  me  clean  to  the 
bones  ?” 

It  was  a cunning  and  suspicious  idea,  quite  in  the  way 
of  his  school  of  Misers,  and  he  looked  very  cunning  and 
suspicious  as  he  went  jogging  through  the  streets.  More 
than  once  or  twice,  more  than  twice  or  thrice,  say  half- 
a-dozen  times,  he  took  his  stick  from  the  arm  on  which 
he  nurscd.it,  and  hit  a straight  sharp  rap  at  the  air  with 
its  head.  Possibly  the  wooden  countenance  of  Mr.  Silas 
Wegg  was  incorporeally  before  him  at  those  moments, 
for  he  hit  with  intense  satisfaction. 

He  was  within  a few  streets  of  his  own  house,  when 
a little  private  carriage,  coming  in  the  contrary  direc- 
tion, passed  him,  turned  round,  and  passed  him  again. 

VOL.  II.  12 


178 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


It  was  a little  carriage  of  eccentric  movement,  for  again 
he  heard  it  stop  behind  him  and  turn  round,  and  again 
he  saw  it  pass  him.  Then  it  stopped,  and  then  went  on 
out  of  sight.  But  not  far  out  of  sight,  for,  when  he 
came  to  the  corner  of  his  own  street,  there  it  stood 
again. 

There  was  a lady's  face  at  the  window  as  he  came  up 
with  this  carriage,  and  he  was  passing  it  when  the  lady 
softly  called  to  him  by  his  name. 

I beg  your  pardon.  Ma’am  !”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  coming 
to  a stop. 

It  is  Mrs.  Lammle,”  said  the  lady. 

Mr.  Boffin  went  up  to  the  window,  and  hoped  Mrs. 
Lammle  was  well. 

^^Not  very  well,  dear  Mr.  Boffin;  I have  fluttered 
myself  by  being — perhaps  foolishly — uneasy  and  anx- 
ious. I have  been  waiting  for  you  some  time.  Can  I 
speak  to  you  ? ” 

Mr.  Boffin  proposed  that  Mrs.  Lammle  should  drive  on 
to  his  house,  a few  hundred  yards  further. 

‘^I  would  rather  not,  Mr.  Boffin,  unless  you  particu- 
larly wish  it.  I feel  the  difficulty  and  delicacy  of  the 
matter  so  much  that  I would  rather  avoid  speaking 
to  you  at  your  own  home.  You  must  think  this  very 
strange  ! ” 

Mr.  Boffin  said  no,  but  meant  yes. 

^'It  is  because  I am  so  grateful  for  the  good  opinion 
of  all  my  friends,  and  am  so  touched  by  it,  that  I can- 
not bear  to  run  the  risk  of  forfeiting  it  in  any  case,  even 
in  the  cause  of  duty.  I have  asked  my  husband  (my  dear 
Alfred,  Mr.  Boffin,)  whether  it  is  the  cause  of  duty,  and 
he  has  most  emphatically  said  Yes.  I wish  I had  asked 
him  sooner.  It  would  have  spared  me  much  distress.” 

Can  this  be  more  dropping  down  upon  me?” 
thought  Mr.  Boffin,  quite  bewildered.) 

^‘It  was  Alfred  who  sent  me  to  you,  Mr.  Boffin. 
Alfred  said,  ^ Don’t  come  back,  Sophronia,  until  you 
have  seen  Mr.  Boffin,  and  told  him  all.  Whatever  he 
may  think  of  it,  he  ought  certainly  to  know  it.’  Would 
you  mind  coming  into  the  carriage?” 

Mr.  Boffin  answered,  Not  at  all,”  and  took  his  seat 
at  Mrs.  Lammle’s  side. 

Drive  slowly  anywhere,”  Mrs.  Lammle  called  to 
her  coachman,  ‘^and  don’t  let  the  carriage  rattle.” 


THE  GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  AT  HIS  WORST.  179 


must  be  more  dropping  down,  I think/’  said  Mr. 
Boffin  to  himself.  What  next  ?” 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  AT  HIS  WORST. 

The  breakfast-table  at  Mr.  Boffin’s  was  usually  a 
very  pleasant  one,  and  was  always  presided  over 
by  Bella.  As  though  he  began  each  new  day  in  his 
by  Bella.  As  though  he  began  each  new  day  in  his 
healthy  natural  character,  and  some  waking  hours 
were  necessary  to  his  relapse  into  the  corrupting  in- 
fluences of  his  wealth,  the  face  and  the  demeanour  of 
the  Golden  Dustman  were  generally  unclouded  at  that 
meal.  It  would  have  been  easy  to  believe  then  that 
there  was  no  change  in  him.  It  was  as  the  day  went 
on  that  the  clouds  gathered,  and  the  brightness  of  the 
morning  became  obscured.  One  might  have  said  that 
the  shadows  of  avarice  and  distrust  lengthened  as  his 
own  shadow  lengthened,  and  that  the  night  closed 
around  him  gradually. 

But,  one  morning  long  afterwards  to  be  remembered, 
it  was  black  midnight  with  the  Golden  Dustman  when 
he  first  appeared.  His  altered  character  had  never  been 
so  grossly  marked.  His  bearing  towards  his  Secretary 
was  so  charged  with  insolent  distrust  and  arrogance, 
that  the  latter  rose  and  left  the  table  before  breakfast 
was  half  done.  The  look  he  directed  at  the  Secretary’s 
retiring  figure  was  so  cunningly  malignant,  that  Bella 
would  have  sat  astounded  and  indignant,  even  though 
he  had  not  gone  the  length  of  secretly  threatening  Roke- 
smith  with  his  clinched  fist  as  he  closed  the  door.  This 
unlucky  morning,  of  all  mornings  in  the  year,  was  the 
morning  next  after  Mr.  Boffin’s  interview  with  Mrs. 
Lammle  in  her  little  carriage. 

Bella  looked  to  Mrs.  Boffin’s  face  for  comment  on,  or 
explanation  of,  this  stormy  humour  in  her  husband,  but 
none  was  there.  An  anxious  and  a distressed  observa- 
tion of  her  own  face  was  all  she  could  read  in  it.  When 
they  were  left  alone  together — which  was  not  until 
noon,  for  Mr.  Boffin  sat  long  in  his  easy-chair,  by  turns 


180 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


jogging  up  and  down  the  breakfast-room,  clenching  his 
fist  and  muttering — Bella,  in  consternation,  asked  her 
what  had  happened,  what  was  wrong?  I am  forbidden 
to  speak  to  you  about  it,  Bella  dear;  I mustn’t  tell 
you,^’  was  all  the  answer  she  could  get.  And  still, 
whenever,  in  her  wonder  and  dismay,  she  raised  her 
eyes  to  Mrs.  Boffin’s  face,  she  saw  in  it  the  same  anxious 
and  distressed  observation  of  her  own. 

Oppressed  by  her  sense  that  trouble  was  impending, 
and  lost  in  speculations  why  Mrs.  Boffin  should  look  at 
her  as  if  she  had  any  part  in  it,  Bella  found  the  day 
long  and  dreary.  It  was  far  on  in  the  afternoon  when, 
she  being  in  her  own  room,  a servant  brought  her  a 
message  from  Mr.  Boffin  begging  her  to  come  to  his. 

Mrs.  Boffin  was  there,  seatefi  on  a sofa,  and  Mr. 
Boffin  w^as  jogging  up  and  down.  On  seeing  Bella  he 
stopped,  beckoned  her  to  him,  and  drew  her  arm  through 
his?  Don’t  be  alarmed,  my  dear,”  he  said,  gently; 

I am  not  angry  with  you.  Why  you  actually  tremble! 
Don’t  be  alarmed,  Bella,  my  dear.  I’ll  see  you  righted.” 

See  me  righted?  ” thought  Bella.  And  then  repeated 
aloud  in  a tone  of  astonishment:  see  me  righted,  sir?” 

Ay,  ay!”  said  Mr.  Boffin.  See  you  righted.  Send 
Mr.  Rokesmith  here,  you  sir.” 

Bella  would  have  been  lost  in  perplexity  if  there  had 
been  pause  enough;  but  the  servant  found  Mr.  Roke- 
smith near  at  hand,  and  he  almost  immediately  pre- 
sented himself. 

Shut  the  door,  sir!”  said  Mr.  Boffin.  I have  got 
something  to  say  to  you  which  I fancy  you’ll  not  be 
pleased  to  hear.” 

I am  sorry  to  reply,  Mr.  Boffin,”  returned  the  Secre- 
tary, as,  having  closed  the  door,  he  turned  and  faced 
him,  ^'that  I think  that  very  likely.” 

What  do  you  mean?  ” blustered  Mr.  Boffin. 

I mean  that  it  has  become  no  novelty  to  me  to  hear 
from  your  lips  what  I would  rather  not  hear.” 

^^Oh!  Perhaps  we  shall  change  that,”  said  Mr.  Boffin 
with  a threatening  roll  of  his  head. 

I hope  so,”  returned  the  Secretary.  He  was  quiet 
and  respectful;  but  stood,  as  Bella  thought  (and  was 
glad  to  think),  on  his  manhood  too. 

''Now,  sir,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  "look  at  this  young  lady 
on  my  arm.” 


THE  GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  AT  HIS  WORST.  181 


Bella  involuntarily  raising  her  eyes,  when  this  sudden 
reference  was  made  to  herself,  met  those  of  Mr.  Roke- 
smith.  He  was  pale  and  seemed  agitated.  Then  her 
eyes  passed  on  to  Mrs.  Boffin’s,  and  she  met  the  look 
again.  In  a flash  it  enlightened  her,  and  she  began  to 
understand  what  she  had  done. 

‘'1  say  to  you,  sir,”  Mr.  Boffin  repeated,  ^‘look  at  this 
young  lady  on  my  arm.” 

do  so,”  returned  the  Secretary. 

As  his  glance  rested  again  on  Bella  for  a moment, 
she  thought  there  was  reproach  in  it.  But  it  is  possible 
that  the  reproach  was  within  herself. 

^^How  dare  you,  sir,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  tamper,  un- 
known to  me,  with  this  young  lady  ? How  dare  you 
come  out  of  your  station,  and  your  place  in  my  house, 
to  pester  this  young  lady  with  your  impudent  addresses  ? ” 

I must  decline  to  answer  questions,”  said  the  Sec- 
retary, that  are  so  offensively  asked.” 

You  decline  to  answer?”  retorted  Mr.  Boffin.  ^Wou 
decline  to  answer,  do  you?  Then  ITl  tell  you  what  it  is, 
Rokesmith;  ITl  answer  for  you.  There  are  two  sides 
to  this  matter,  and  ITl  take  ’em  separately.  The  first 
side  is,  sheer  Insolence.  That’s  the  first  side.” 

The  Secretary  smiled  with  some  bitterness,  as  though 
he  would  have  said,  ^^So  I see  and  hear.” 

It  was  sheer  Insolence  in  you,  I tell  you,”  said  Mr. 
Boffin,  even  to  think  of  this  young  lady.  This  young 
lady  was  far  above  you.  This  young  lady  was  no  match 
for  you.  This  young  lady  was  lying  in  wait  (as  she  was 
qualified  to  do)  for  money,  and  you  had  no  money.” 

Bella  hung  her  head  and  seemed  to  shrink  a little 
from  Mr.  Boffin’s  protecting  arm. 

What  are  you,  I should  like  to  know,”  pursued  Mr. 
Boffin,  that  you  were  to  have  the  audacity  to  follow 
up  this  young  lady  ? This  young  lady  was  looking 
about  the  market  for  a good  bid  ; she  wasn’t  in  it  to  be 
snapped  up  by  fellows  that  had  no  money  to  lay  out ; 
nothing  to  buy  with.” 

Oh,  Mr.  Boffin  ! Mrs.  Boffin,  pray  say  something  for 
me  ! ” murmured  Bella,  disengaging  her  arm,  and  cov- 
ering her  face  with  her  hands. 

Old  lady,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  anticipating  his  wife, 
you  hold  your  tongue.  Bella,  my  dear,  don’t  you  let 
yourself  be  put  out.  I’ll  right  you.” 


- 182 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


But  you  don’t,  you  don’t  right  me  ! ” exclaimed  Bella, 
with  great  emphasis.  You  wrong  me,  wrong  me  ! ” 

Don’t  you  be  put  out,  my  dear,”  complacently  re- 
torted Mr.  Boffin.  ^ I’ll  bring  this  young  man  to  book. 
Now,  you  Rokesmith  ! You  can’t  decline  to  hear,  you 
know,  as  well  as  to  answer.  You  hear  me  tell  you  that 
the  first  side  of  your  conduct  was  Insolence — Insolence 
and  Presumption.  Answer  me  one  thing,  if  you  can. 
Didn’t  this  young  lady  tell  you  so  herself  ? ” 

Did  I,  Mr.  Rokesmith  ?”  asked  Bella  with  her  face 
still  covered.  0 say,  Mr.  Rokesmith  ! Did  I ?” 

Don’t  be  distressed.  Miss  Wilfer  ; it  matters  very 
little  now.” 

Ah  ! You  can’t  deny  it,  though  !”  said  Mr.  Boffin, 
with  a knowing  shake  of  his  head. 

^^But  I have  asked  him  to  forgive  me  since,”  cried 
Bella  ; and  I would  ask  him  to  forgive  me  now  again, 
upon  my  knees,  if  it  would  spare  him  ! ” 

Here  Mrs.  Boffin  broke  out  a-crying. 

Old  lady,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  stop  that  noise  ! Ten- 
der-hearted in  you.  Miss  Bella ; but  I mean  to  have  it 
out  right  through  with  this  young  man,  having  got  him 
into  a corner.  Now,  you  Rokesmith.  I tell  you  that’s 
one  side  of  your  conduct — Insolence  and  Presumption. 
Now,  I’m  a-coming  to  the  other,  which  is  much  worse. 
This  was  a speculation  of  yours.” 

I indignantly  deny  it.” 

It’s  of  no  use  your  denying  it ; it  doesn’t  signify  a 
bit  whether  you  deny  it  or  not ; I’ve  got  a head  upon 
my  shoulders,  and  it  ain’t  a baby’s.  What ! ” said  Mr. 
Boffin,  gathering  himself  together  in  his  most  suspicious 
attitude,  and  wrinkling  his  face  into  a very  map  of 
curves  and  corners.  Don’t  I know  what  grabs  are 
made  at  a man  with  money  ? If  I didn’t  keep  my  eyes 
open  and  my  pockets  buttoned,  shouldn’t  I be  brought 
to  the  workhouse  before  I knew  where  I was  ? Wasn’t 
the  experience  of  Dancer,  and  Elwes,  and  Hopkins,  and 
Blewbury  Jones,  and  ever  so  many  more  of  ’em,  similar 
to  mine  ? Didn’t  everybody  want  to  make  grabs  at  what 
they’d  got,  and  bring ’em  to  poverty  and  ruin  ? Weren’t 
they  forced  to  hide  everything  belonging  to  ’em,  for  fear 
it  should  be  snatched  from  ’em  ? Of  course  they  was. 
I shall  be  told  next  that  they  didn’t  know  human 
natur’  ! ” 


THE  GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  AT  HIS  WORST.  183 

“ They  ! Poor  creatures,”  murmured  the  Secretary. 

“What  do  you  say  ?”  asked  Mr.  Boffin,  snapping  at 
him.  “ However,  you  needn’t  he  at  the  trouble  of  re- 
peating it,  for  it  ain’t  worth  hearing,  and  won’t  go 
down  with  me.  I’m  a-going  to  unfold  your  plan  before 
this  young  lady  ; I’m  a-going  to  show  this  young  lady 
the  second  view  of  you  ; and  nothing  you  can  say  will 
stave  it  off.  (Now,  attend  here,  Bella,  my  dear.) 
Rokesmith,  you’re  a needy  chap.  You’re  a chap  that  I 
pick  up  in  the  street.  Are  you,  or  ain’t  you  ?” 

“ Go  on,  Mr.  Boffin  ; don’t  appeal  to  me.” 

“Not  appeal  to  you,’’  retorted  Mr.  Boffin  as  if  he 
hadn’t  done  so.  “ No,  I should  hope  not  ! Appealing 
to  you  would  he  rather  a rum  course.  As  I was  saying, 
you’re  a needy  chap  that  I pick  up  in  the  street.  You 
come  and,  ask  me  in  the  street  to  take  you  for  a Secre- 
tary, and  I take  you.  Very  good.” 

“ Very  bad,”  murmured  the  Secretary. 

“What  do  you  say  ?”  asked  Mr.  Boffin,  snapping  at 
him  again. 

He  returned  no  answer.  Mr.  Boffin,  after  eyeing  him 
with  a comical  look  of  discomfited  curiosity,  was  fain 
to  begin  afresh. 

“ This.  Rokesmith  is  a needy  young  man  that  I take 
for  my  Secretary  out  of  the  open  street.  This  Roke- 
smith gets  acquainted  with  my  affairs,  and  gets  to 
know  that  I mean  to  settle  a sum  of  money  on  this 
young  lady.  ‘Oho!’  says  this  Rokesmith!”  here  Mr. 
Boffin  clapped  a finger  against  his  nose,  and  tapped  it 
several  times  with  a sneaking  air,  as  embodying  Roke- 
smith confidentially  confabulating  with  his  own  nose; 
“ ‘ This  will  be  a good  haul;  I’ll  go  in  for  this!’  And  so 
this  Rokesmith,  greedy  and  hungering,  begins  a-creep- 
ing  on  his  hands  and  knees  towards'  the  money.  Not  so 
bad  a speculation  either:  for  if  this  young  lady  had  had 
less  spirit,  or  had  had  less  sense,  through  being  at  all  in 
the  romantic  line,  by  George,  he  might  have  worked  it 
out  and _naade  it  pay!  But  fortunately  she  was  too 
many  for  him,  and  a pretty  figure  he  cuts  now  he  is  ex- 
posed. There  he  stands!”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  addressing 
Rokesmith  himself  with  ridiculous  inconsistency.  “ Look 
at  him ! ” 

“Your  unfortunate  suspicions,  Mr.  Boffin ’’began 

the  Secretary. 


184 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


^‘  Precious  unfortunate  for  you,  I can  tell  you,'’  said 
Mr.  Boffin. 

— Are  not  to  be  combated  by  any  one,  and  I address 
myself  to  no  such  hopeless  task.  But  I will  say  a word 
upon  the  truth.” 

^^Yah!  Much  you  care  about  the  truth,”  said  Mr. 
Boffin,  with  a snap  of  his  fingers. 

Noddy!  My  dear  love!”  expostulated  his  wife. 

^^Old  lady,”  returned  Mr.  Boffin,  ^^you  keep  still.  I 
say  to  this  Rokesmith  here,  much  he  cares  about  the 
truth.  I tell  him  again,  much  he  cares  about  the 
truth.” 

Our  connection  being  at  an  end,  Mr.  Boffin,”  said  the 
Secretary,  it  can  be  of  very  little  moment  to  me  what 
you  say.” 

Oh!  You  are  knowing  enough,”  retorted  Mr.  Boffin, 
with  a sly  look,  ^^to  have  found  out  that  our  con- 
nection’s at  an  end,  eh  ? But  you  can’t  get  beforehand 
with  me.  Look  at  this  in  my  hand.  This  is  your  pay, 
on  your  discharge.  You  can  only  follow  suit.  You 
can’t  deprive  me  of  the  lead.  Let’s  have  no  pretending 
that  you  discharge  yourself.  I discharge  you.” 

So  that  I go,”  remarked  the  Secretary,  waving  the 
point  aside  with  his  hand,  ^Mt  is  all  one  to  me.” 

Is  it  ?”  said  Mr.  Boffin.  ''  But  it’s  two  to  me,  let  me 
tell  you.  Allowing  a fellow  that’s  found  out,  to  dis- 
charge himself,  is  one  thing;  discharging  him  for  in- 
solence and  presumption,  and  likewise  for  designs  upon 
his  master’s  money,  is  another.  One  and  one’s  two; 
not  one.  (Old  lady,  don’t  you  cut  in.  You  keep  still.)” 

Have  you  said  all  you  wish  to  say  to  me  ?”  de- 
manded the  Secretary. 

don’t  know  whether  I have  or  not,”  answered  Mr. 
Boffin.  ^Ht  depends.” 

Perhaps  you  will  consider  whether  there  are  any 
other  strong  expressions  that  you  would  like  to  bestow 
upon  me  ? ” 

'H’ll  consider  that,”  said  Mr.  Boffin  obstinately,  '^at 
my  convenience,  and  not  at  ours.  You  want  the  last 
word.  It  may  not  be  suitable  to  let  you  have  it.” 

Noddy  ! My  dear,  dear  Noddy!  You  sound  so 
hard!  ” cried  poor  Mrs.  Boffin,  not  to  be  quite  repressed.' 

Old  lady,”  said  her  husband,  but  without  harshness, 

if  you  cut  in  when  requested  not.  I’ll  get  a pillow  and 


THE  GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  AT  HIS  V/ORST.  185 


carry  you  out  of  the  room  upon  it.  What  do  you  want 
to  say,  you  Rokesmith  ? ” 

To  you,  Mr.  Boffin,  nothing.  But  to  Miss  Wilfer 
and  to  your  good  kind  wife,  a word.” 

Out  with  it  then,”  replied  Mr.  Boffin,  ^^and  cut  it 
short,  for  we’ve  had  enough  of  you.” 

have  borne,”  said  the  Secretary,  in  a low  voice, 
with  my  false  position  here,  that  I might  not  be  sepa- 
rated from  Miss  Wilfer.  To  be  near  her,  has  been  a 
recompense  to  me  from  day  to  day,  even  for  the  un- 
deserved treatment  I have  had  here,  and  for  the  de- 
graded aspect  in  which  she  has  often  seen  me.  Since 
Miss  Wilfer  rejected  me,  I have  never  again  urged  my 
suit,  to  the  best  of  my  belief,  with  a spoken  syllable  or 
a look.  But  I have  never  changed  in  my  devotion  to 
her,  except — if  she  will  forgive  my  saying  so — that  it  is 
deeper  than  it  was,  and  better  founded.” 

^^Now  mark  this  chap’s  saying.  Miss  Wilfer,  when  he 
means  jQ  s.  d..^”  cried  Mr.  Boffin,  with  a cunning  wink. 

Now,  mark  this  chap’s  making  Miss  Wilfer  stand  for 
Pounds,  Shillings,  and  Pence  ! ” 

My  feeling  for  Miss  Wilfer,”  pursued  the  Secretary, 
without  deigning  to  notice  him,  ^Gs  not  one  to  be 
ashamed  of.  I avow  it.  I love  her.  Let  me  go  where 
I may  when  I presently  leave  this  house,  I shall  go  into 
a blank  life,  leaving  her.” 

Leaving  ^ s.  d,  behind  me,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  by  way 
of  commentary,  with  another  wink. 

^‘^That  I am  incapable,”  the  Secretary  went  on,  still 
without  heeding  him,  ^^of  a mercenary  project,  or  a 
mercenary  thought,  in  connection  with  Miss  Wilfer,  is 
nothing  meritorious  in  me,  because  any  prize  that  I 
could  put  before  my  fancy  would  sink  into  insignifi- 
cance beside  her.  If  the  greatest  wealth  or  the  highest 
rank  were  hers,  it  would  only  be  important  in  my  sight 
as  removing  her  still  farther  from  me,  and  making  me 
more  hopeless,  if  that  could  be.  Say,”  remarked  the 
Secretary,  looking  full  at  his  late  master,  say  that 
with  a word  she  could  strip  Mr.  Boffin  of  his  fortune 
and  take  possession  of  it,  she  would  be  of  no  greater 
worth  in  my  eyes  than  she  is.” 

''What  do  you  think  by  this  time,  old  lady,”  asked 
Mr.  Boffin,  turning  to  his  wife  in  a bantering  tone, 
" about  this  Rokesmith  here,  and  his  caring  for  the 


186 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


truth?  You  needn’t  say  what  you  think,  my  dear,  be- 
cause I don’t  want  you  to  cut  in,  but  you  can  think  it 
all  the  same.  As  to  taking  possession  of  my  property, 
I warrant  you  he  wouldn’t  do  that  himself  if  he  could.” 
^^No,”  returned  the  Secretary,  with  another  full  look. 
^^Ha,  ha,  ha!”  laughed  Mr.  Boffin.  There’s  nothing 
like  a good  ’un  while  you  are  about  it.” 

have  been  for  a moment,”  said  the  Secretary, 
turning  from  him  and  falling  into  his  former  manner, 
diverted  from  the  little  I have  to  say.  My  interest  in 
Miss  Wilfer  began  when  I first  saw  her;  even  began 
when  I had  only  heard  of  her.  It  was,  in  fact,  the 
cause  of  my  throwing  myself  in  Mr.  Boffin’s  way,  and 
entering  his  service.  Miss  Wilfer  has  never  known  this 
until  now.  I mention  it  now,  only  as  a corroboration 
(though  I hope  it  may  be  needless)  of  my  being  free 
from  the  sordid  design  attributed  to  me.” 

Now,  this  is  a very  artful  dog,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  with 
a deep  look.  This  is  a longer-headed  schemer  than  I 
thought  him.  See  how  patiently  and  methodically  he 
goes  to  work.  He  gets  to  know  about  me  and  my  prop- 
erty, and  about  this  young  lady,  and  her  share  in  poor 
young  John’s  story,  and  he  puts  this  and  that  together, 
and  he  says  to  himself,  ' I’ll  get  in  with  Boffin,  and  I’ll 
get  in  with  this  young  lady,  and  I’ll  work  ’em  both  at 
the  same  time,  and  I’ll  bring  my  pigs  to  market  some- 
where.’ I hear  him  say  it,  bless  you!  Why,  I look  at 
him,  now,  and  I see  him  say  it!” 

Mr.  Boffin  pointed  at  the  culprit  as  it  were  in  the  act, 
and  hugged  himself  in  his  great  penetration. 

But  luckily  he  hadn’t  to  deal  with  the  people  he  sup- 
posed, Bellay*  my  dear  !”  said  Mr.  Boffin.  No  ! Luck- 
ily he  had  to  deal  with  you,  and  with  me,  and  with 
Daniel  and  Miss  Dancer,  and  with  Elwes,  and  with  Vul- 
ture Hopkins,  and  with  Blewbury  Jones  and  all  the 
rest  of  us,  one  down  t’other  come  on.  And  he’s  beat ; 
that’s  what  he  is;  regularly  beat.  He  thought  to  squeeze 
money  out  of  us,  and  he  has  done  for  himself  instead, 
Bella,  my  dear!  ” 

Bella  my  dear  made  no  response,  gave  no  sign  of  ac- 
quiescence. When  she  had  first  covered  her  face  she 
had  sunk  upon  a chair  with  her  hands  resting  on  the 
back  of  it,  and  had  never  moved  since.  There  was  a 
short  silence  at  this  point,  and  Mrs.  Boffin  softly  rose 


THE  GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  AT  HIS  WORST.  187 

as  if  to  go  to  her.  But  Mr.  Boffin  stopped  her  with  a 
gesture^  and  she  obediently  sat  down  again  and  stayed 
where  she  was. 

There’s  your  pay,  Mr.  Rokesmith,”  said  the  Golden 
Dustman,  jerking  the  folded  scrap  of  paper  he  had  in 
his  hand,  towards  his  late  Secretary.  I dare  say  you 
can  stoop  to  pick  it  up,  after  what  you  have  stooped  to 
here.” 

I have  stooped  to  nothing  but  this,”  Rokesmith 
answered  as  he  took  it  from  the  ground  ; and  this  is 
mine,  for  I have  earned  it  by  the  hardest  of  hard 
labour.” 

'Wou’re  a pretty  quick  packer,  I hope,”  said  Mr. 
Boffin;  because  the  sooner  you  are  gone,  bag  and 
baggage,  the  better  for  all  parties.” 

You.  need  have  no  fear  of  my  lingering.” 

There’s  just  one  thing  though,”  said  Mr.  Boffin, 
that  I should  like  to  ask  you  before  we  come  to  a good 
riddance,  if  it  was  only  to  show  this  young  lady  how 
conceited  you  schemers  are,  in  thinking  that  nobody 
finds  out  how  you  contradict  yourselves.” 

Ask  me  anything  you  wish  to  ask,”  returned  Roke- 
smith, ^^but  use  the  expedition  that  you  recommend.” 

You  pretend  to  have  a mighty  admiration  for  this 
young  lady?”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  laying  his  hand  protect- 
ingly  on  Bella’s  head  without  looking  down  at  her. 

I do  not  pretend.” 

Oh  ! Well.  You  have  a mighty  admiration  for  this 
young  lady — since  you  are  so  particular  ? ” 

‘Wes.” 

“ How  do  you  reconcile  that  with  this  young  lady’s 
being  a weak-spirited,  improvident  idiot,  not  knowing 
what  was  due  to  herself,  flinging  up  her  money  to  the 
church-weathercocks,  and  racing  off  at  a splitting  pace 
for  the  workhouse  ? ” 

“ I don’t  understand  you.” 

“ Don’t  you  ? Or  won’t  you  ? What  else  could  you 
have  made  this  young  lady  out  to  be,  if  she  had  listened 
to  such  addresses  as  yours  ? ” 

“ What  else,  if  I had  been  so  happy  as  to  win  her 
affections  and  possess  her  heart  ?” 

“Win  her  affections,”  retorted  Mr.  Boffin,  with  in- 
effable contempt,  “and  possess  her  heart!  Mew  says 
the  cat.  Quack-quack  says  the  duck.  Bow-wow-wow 


188 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


says  the  dog  ! Win  her  affections  and  possess  her 
heart ! Mew,  Quack-quack,  Bow-wow  ! ’’ 

John  Rokesmith  stared  at  him  in  his  outburst,  as  if 
with  some  faint  idea  that  he  had  gone  mad. 

What  is  due  to  this  young  lady,”  said  Mr.  Boffin, 
is  Money,  and  this,  young  lady  right  well  knows 
it.” 

^Wou  slander  the  young  lady.” 

^ / You  slander  the  young  lady  ; you  with  your  affec- 
tions and  hearts  and  trumpery,”  returned  Mr.  Boffin. 

It’s  of  a piece  with  the  rest  of  your  behaviour.  I 
heard  of  these  doings  of  yours  only  last  night,  or  you 
should  have  heard  of  ’em  from  me,  sooner,  take  your 
oath  of  it.  I heard  of  ’em  from  a lady  with  as  good  a 
headpiece  as  the  best,  and  she  knows  this  young  lady, 
and  I know  this  young  lady,  and  we  all  three  know 
that  it’s  Money  she  makes  a stand  for — money — money, 
money,  and  that  you  and  your  affections  and  hearts  are 
a Lie,  sir  ! ” 

Mrs.  Boffin,”  said  Rokesmith,  quietly  turning  to  her, 
for  your  delicate  and  unvarying  kindness  I thank  you 
with  the  warmest  gratitude.  Good-bye  ! Miss  Wilfer, 
good-bye  ! ” 

And  now,  my  dear,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  laying  his  hand 
on  Bella’s  head  again,  ‘^you  may  begin  to  make  your- 
self quite  comfortable,  and  I hope  you  feel  that  you’ve 
been  righted.” 

But,  Bella  was  so  far  from  appearing  to  feel  it,  that 
she  shrank  from  his  hand  and  from  the  chair,  and, 
starting  up  in  an  incoherent  passion  of  tears,  and 
stretching  out  her  arms,  cried,  Oh,  Mr.  Rokesmith,  be- 
fore you  go,  if  you  could  but  make  me  poor  again  ! Oh  ! 
Make  me  poor  again.  Somebody,  I beg  and  pray,  or  my 
heart  will  break  if  this  goes  on  ! Pa  dear,  make  me 
poor  again,  and  take  me  home  ! I was  bad  enough 
there,  but  I have  been  so  much  worse  here.  Don’t  give 
me  money,  Mr.  Boffin  ; I won’t  have  money.  Keep  it 
away  from  me,  and  only  let  me  speak  to  good  little  Pa, 
and  lay  my  head  upon  his  shoulder,  and  tell  him  all  my 
griefs.  Nobody  else  can  understand  me,  nobody  else 
can  comfort  me,  nobody  else  knows  how  unworthy  I am, 
and  yet  can  love  me  like  a little  child.  I am  better  with 
Pa  than  any  one — more  innocent,  more  sorry,  more 
glad  ! ” So  crying  out  in  a wild  way  that  she  could 


THE  GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  AT  HIS  WORST.  189 

not  bear  this,  Bella  drooped  her  head  on  Mrs.  Boffin’s 
ready  breast. 

John  Rokesmith  from  his  place  in  the  room,  and  Mr. 
Boffin  from  his,  looked  on  at  her  in  silence  until  she 
was  silent  herself.  Then  Mr.  Boffin  observed  in  a sooth- 
ing and  comfortable  tone,  There,  my  dear,  there  ; you 
are  righted  now,  and  it’s  all  right.  I don’t  wonder,  I 
am  sure,  at  your  being  a little  flurried  by  having  a scene 
with  this  fellow,  but  it’s  all  .over,  my  dear,  and  you’re 
righted,  and  it’s— and  it’s  all  right  ! ” Which  Mr.  Boffin 
repeated  with  a highly  satisfled  air  of  completeness  and 
finality. 

‘^1  hate  you!”  cried  Bella,  turning  suddenly  upon 
him,  with  a stamp  of  her  little  foot — at  least,  I can’t 
hate  you,  but  I don’t  like  you.” 

‘‘  Hul — Lo  I ” exclaimed  Mr.  Boffin,  in  an  amazed 
under-tone. 

^Wou’re  a scolding,  unjust,  abusive,  aggravating,  bad 
old  creature  I ” cried  Bella.  I am  angry  with  my  un- 
grateful self  for  calling  you  names  ; but  you  are,  you 
are  ; you  know  you  are  ! ” 

Mr.  Boffin  stared  here  and  stared  there,  as  misdoubt- 
ing that  he  must  be  in  some  sort  of  fit. 

have  heard  you  with  shame,”  said  Bella.  With 
shame  for  myself,  and  with  shame  for  you.  You  ought 
to  be  above  the  base  tale-bearing  of  a time-serving 
woman  ; but  you  are  above  nothing  now.” 

Mr.  Boffin,  seeming  to  become  convinced  that  this 
was  a fit,  rolled  his  eyes  and  loosened  his  neckcloth. 

When  I came  here  I respected  you  and  honoured  you, 
and  I soon  loved  you,”  cried  Bella.  ^A4nd  now  I can’t 
bear  the  sight  of  you.  At  least,  I don’t  know  that  I 
ought  to  go  so  far  as  that — only  you’re  a — you’re  a 
Monster  1 ” Having  shot  this  bolt  out  with  a great 
expenditure  of  force,  Bella  hysterically  laughed  and 
cried  together. 

The  best  wish  I can  wish  you  is,”  said  Bella,  returning 
to  the  charge,  ''  that  you  had  not  one  single  farthing  in 
the  world.  If  any  true  friend  and  well-wisher  could 
make  you  a bankrupt,  you  would  be  a Duck  ; but  as  a 
man  of  property  you  are  a Demon  ! ” 

After  despatching  this  second  bolt  with  a still  greater 
expenditure  of  force,  Bella  laughed  and  cried  still  more. 

''  Mr.  Rokesmith,  pray  stay  one  moment.  Pray  hear 


190 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


one  word  from  me  before  you  go  ! I am  deeply  sorry 
for  the  reproaches  you  have  borne  on  my  account.  Out 
of  the  depths  of  my  heart  I earnestly  and  truly  beg 
your  pardon.” 

As  she  stepped  towards  him,  he  met  her.  As  she  gave 
him  her  hand,  he  put  it  to  his  lips,  and  said,  God  bless 
you!”  No  laughing  was  mixed  with  Bella’s  crying 
then  ; her  tears  were  pure  and  fervent. 

There  is  not  an  ungenerous  word  that  I have  heard 
addressed  to  you — heard  with  scorn  and  indignation, 
Mr.  Rokesmith — but  it  has  wounded  me  far  more  than 
you,  for  I have  deserved  it,  and  you  never  have.  Mr. 
Rokesmith,  it  is  to  me  you  owe  this  perverted  account 
of  what  passed  between  us  that  night.  I parted  with 
the  secret,  even  while  I was  angry  with  myself  for  do- 
ing so.  It  was  very  bad  in  me,  but  indeed  it  was  not 
wicked.  I did  it  in  a moment  of  conceit  and  folly — one 
of  my  many  such  moments — one  of  many  such  hours 
— years.  As  I am  punished  for  it  severely,  try  to  for- 
give it  1 ” 

^‘1  do  with  all  my  soul.” 

Thank  you.  Oh,  thank  you  I Don’t  part  from  me 
till  I have  said  one  other  word,  to  do  you  justice.  The 
only  fault  you  can  be  truly  charged  with,  in  having 
spoken  to  me  as  you  did  that  night — with  how  much 
delicacy  and  how  much  forbearance  no  one  but  I can 
know  or  be  grateful  to  you  for — is,  that  you  laid  your- 
self open  to  be  slighted  by  a worldly  shallow  girl 
whose  head  was  turned,  and  who  was  quite  unable  to  rise 
to  the  worth  of  what  you  offered  her.  Mr.  Rokesmith, 
that  girl  has  often  seen  herself  in  a pitiful  and  poor 
light  since,  but  never  in  so  pitiful  and  poor  a light  as 
now,  when  the  mean  tone  in  which  she  answered  you 
— sordid  and  vain  girl  that  she  was — has  been  echoed 
in  her  ears  by  Mr.  Boffin.” 

He  kissed  her  hand  again. 

Mr.  Boffin’s  speeches  were  detestable  to  me,shocking 
to  me,”  said  Bella,  startling  that  gentleman  with  an- 
other stamp  of  her  little  foot.  ^^It  is  quite  true  that 
there  was  a time,  and  very  lately,  when  I deserved  to 
be  so  ^righted,’  Mr.  Rokesmith;  but  I hope  I shall  never 
deserve  it  again!” 

He  once  more  put  her  hand  to  his  lips,  and  then  relin- 
quished it,  and  left  the  room.  Bella  was  hurrying  back 


THE  GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  AT  HIS  WORST.  191 

to  the  chair  in  which  she  had  hidden  her  face  so  long, 
when,  catching  sight  of  Mrs.  Boffin  by  the  way,  she 
stopped  at  her.  He  is  gone,”  sobbed  Bella  indignantly, 
despairingly,  in  fifty  ways  at  once,  with  her  arms  round 
Mrs.  Boffin’s  neck.  ''He  has  been  most  shamefully 
abused,  and  most  unjustly  and  most  basely  driven  away, 
and  I am  the  cause  of  it!  ” 

All  this  time  Mr.  Boffin  had  been  rolling  his  eyes 
over  his  loosened  neckerchief,  as  if  his  fit  were  still  upon 
him.  Appearing  now  to  think  that  he  was  coming  to, 
he  stared  straight  before  him  for  a while,  tied  his 
neckerchief  again,  took  several  long  inspirations,  swal- 
lowed several  times,  and  ultimately  exclaimed  with  a 
deep  sigh,  as  if  he  felt  himself  on  the  whole  better: 
"Well!” 

No  word,  good  or  bad,  did  Mrs.  Boffin  say;  but  she 
tenderly  took  care  of  Bella,  and  glanced  at  her  husband 
as  if  for  orders.  Mr.  Boffin,  without  imparting  any, 
took  his  seat  on  a chair  over  against  them,  and  there 
sat  leaning  forward,  with  a fixed  countenance,  his  legs 
apart,  a hand  on  each  knee,  and  his  elbows  squared, 
until  Bella  should  dry  her  eyes  and  raise  her  head,  which 
in  the  fulness  of  time  she  did. 

"I  must  go  home,”  said  Bella  rising  hurriedly.  "I 
am  very  grateful  to  you  for  all  you  have  done  for  me, 
but  I can’t  stay  here.” 

"My  darling  girl!”  remonstrated  Mrs.  Boffin. 

"No,  I can’t  stay  here,”  said  Bella;  "I  can’t  in- 
deed.— Ugh  ! you  vicious  old  thing!”  (This  to  Mr. 
Boffin.) 

"Don’t  be  so  rash,  my  love,”  urged  Mrs.  Boffin. 
"Think  well  of  what  you  do.” 

"Yes,  you  had  better  think  well,”  said  Mr.  Boffin. 

"I  shall  never  more  think  well  of  yotf,”  cried  Bella, 
cutting  him  short,  with  intense  defiance  in  her  expres- 
sive little  eye-brows  , and  championship  of  the  late  Sec- 
retary in  every  dimple.  "No!  Never  again!  Your 
money  has  changed  you  to  marble.  You  are  a hard- 
hearted Miser.  You  are  worse  than  Dancer,  worse  than 
Hopkins,  worse  than  Blackberry  Jones,  worse  than  any 
of  the  wretches.  And  more!”  proceeded  Bella,  break- 
ing into  tears  again,  "you  were  wholly  undeserving  of 
the  Gentleman  you  have  lost ! ” 

"Why,  you  don’t  mean  to  say.  Miss  Bella,”  the  Gold- 


192 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


en  Dustman  slowly  remonstrated,  ^^that  you  set  up 
Rokesmith  against  me?” 

‘‘1  do!”  said  Bella.  ''He  is  worth  a million  of 
you.” 

Very  pretty  she  looked,  though  very  angry,  as  she 
made  herself  as  tall  as  she  possibly  could  (which  was 
not  extremely  tall),  and  utterly  renounced  her  patron 
with  a lofty  toss  of  her  rich  brown  head. 

"I  would  rather  he  thought  well  of  me,”  said  Bella, 
"though  he  swept  the  street  for  bread,  than  that  you 
did,  though  you  splashed  the  mud  upon  him  from  the 
wheels  of  a chariot  of  pure  gold. — There!” 

"WellTm  sure!”  cried  Mr.  BofSn,  staring. 

"And  for  a long  time  past,  when  you  have  thought 
you  set  yourself  above  him,  I have  only  seen  you  under 
his  feet,”  said  Bella — "There!  And  throughout  I saw 
in  him  the  master,  anu  I saw  in  you  the  man — There! 
And  when  you  used  him  shamefully,  I took  his  part  and 
loved  him — There!  I boast  of  it!” 

After  which  strong  avowal  Bella  underwent  reaction, 
and  cried  to  any  extent,  with  her  face  on  the  back  of  her 
chair. 

"Now,  look  here,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  as  soon  as  he  could 
find  an  opening  for  breaking  the  silence  and  striking  in. 
" Give  me  your  attention,  Bella.  I am  not  angry.” 

" I am!  ” said  Bella. 

"I  say,”  resumed  the  Golden  Dustman,  "I  am  not 
angry,  and  I mean  kindly  to  you,  and  I want  to  over- 
look this.  So  you’ll  stay  where  you  are,  and  weTl  agree 
to  say  no  more  about  it.” 

"No,  I can’t  stay  here,”  cried  Bella,  rising  hurriedly 
again;  " I can’t  think  of  staying  here.  I must  go  home 
for  good.” 

"Now,  don’t  be  silly,”  Mr.  Boffin  reasoned.  "Don’t 
do  what  you  can’t  undo;  don’t  do  what  you’re  sure  to  be 
sorry  for.” 

"I  shall  never  be  sorry  for  it,’'  said  Bella;  "and  I 
should  always  be  sorry,’  and  should  every  minute  of  my 
life  despise  myself,  if  I remained  here  after  what  has 
happened.” 

"At  least,  Bella,”  argued  Mr.  Boffin,  "let  there  be 
no  mistake  about  it.  Look  before  you  leap,  you  know. 
Stay  where  you  are,  and  all’s  well,  and  all’s  as  it  was 
to  be.  Go  away,  and  you  can  never  come  back.” 


THE  GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  AT  HIS  WORST.  li)o 


know  that  I can  never  come  back,  and  that’s  what 
I mean,”  said  Bella. 

^Wou  mustn’t  expect,”  Mr.  Boffin  pursued,  ^'that  I’m 
a-going  to  settle  money  on  you  if  you  leave  us  like  this, 
because  I am  not.  No,  Bella  ! Be  careful  ! Not  one 
brass  farthing.” 

Expect!”  said  Bella,  haughtily.  Do  you  think 
that  any  power  on  earth  could  make  me  take  it,  if  you 
did,  sir  ? ” 

But  there  was  Mrs.  Boffin  to  part  from,  and,  in  the 
full  flush  of  her  dignity,  the  impressible  little  soul  col- 
lapsed again.  Down  upon  her  knees  before  that  good 
woman,  she  rocked  herself  upon  her  breast,  and  cried, 
and  sobbed,  and  folded  her  in  her  arms  with  all  her 
might. 

You’re  a dear,  a dear,  the  best  of  dears!”  cried 
Bella.  'Wou’re  the  best  of  human  creatures.  I can 
never  be  thankful  enough  to  you,  and  can  never  forget 
you.  If  I should  live  to  be  blind  and  deaf,  I know  I 
shall  see  and  hear  you,  in  my  fancy,  to  the  last  of  my 
dim  old  days!” 

Mrs.  Boffin  wept  most  heartily,  and  embraced  her 
with  air  fondness;  but  said  not  one  single  word  except 
that  she  was  her  dear  girl.  She  said  that  often  enough, 
to  be  sure,  for  she  said  it  over  and  over  again;  but  not 
one  word  else. 

Bella  broke  from  her  at  length,  and  was  going  weeping 
out  of  the  room,  when  in  her  own  little  queer  affectionate 
way,  she  half  relented  towards  Mr.  Boffin. 

^‘^I  am  very  glad,”  sobbed  Bella,  ^^that  I called  you 
names,  sir,  because  you  richly  deserved  it.  But  I am 
very  sorry  that  I called  you  names,  because  you  used 
to  be  so  different.  Say»  good-bye  ! ” 

Good-bye,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  shortly. 

‘Hf  I knew  which  of  your  hands  was  the  least  spoilt, 
I would  ask  you  to  let  me  touch  it,”  said  Bella,  for  the 
last  time.  But  not  because  I repent  of  what  I have 
said  to  you.  For  I don’t.  It’s  true  ! ” 

^^Try  the  left  hand,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  holding  it  out 
in  a stolid  manner;  ^Gt’s  the  least  used.” 

You  have  been  wonderfully  good  and  kind  to  me,” 
said  Bella,  ^^and  I kiss  it  for  that.  You  have  been  as 
bad  as  bad  could  be  to  Mr.  Rokesmith,  and  I throw  it 
away  for  that.  Thank  you  for  myself,  and  good-bye  ! 

VOL.  II.  lo 


194 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Good-bye/’  said  Mr.  Boffin  as  before. 

Bella  caught  him  round  the  neck  and  kissed  him,  and 
ran  out  for  ever. 

She  ran  up-stairs,  and  sat  down  on  the  floor  in  her 
own  room,  and  cried  abundantly.  But  the  day  was  de- 
clining and  she  had  no  time  to  lose.  She  opened  all 
the  places  where  she  kept  her  dresses ; selected  only 
those  she  had  brought  with  her,  leaving  all  the  rest ; 
and  made  a great  misshapen  bundle  of  them,  to  be  sent 
for  afterwards. 

I won’t  take  one  of  the  others,”  said  Bella,  tying 
the  knots  of  the  bundle  very  tight,  in  the  severity  of 
her  resolution.  I’ll  leave  all  the  presents  behind,  and 
begin  again  entirely  on  my  own  account.”  That  the 
resolution  might  be  thoroughly  carried  into  practice, 
she  even  changed  the  dress  she  wore,  for  that  in  which 
she  had  come  to  the  grand  mansion.  Even  the  bonnet 
she  put  on,  was  the  bonnet  that  had  mounted  into  the 
Boffin  chariot  at  Holloway. 

Now  I am  complete,”  said  Bella.  It’s  a little  try- 
ing, but  I have  steeped  my  eyes  in  cold  water,  and 
I won’t  cry  any  more.  You  have  been  a pleasant  room 
to  me,  dear  room.  Adieu  ! We  shall  never  see  each 
other  again.” 

With  a parting  kiss  of  her  Angers  to  it,  she  softly 
closed  the  door,  and  went  with  a light  foot  down  the 
great  staircase,  pausing  and  listening  as  she  went,  that 
she  might  meet  none  of  the  household.  No  one  chanced 
to  be  about,  and  she  got  down  to  the  hall  in  quiet.  The 
door  of  the  late  Secretary’s  room  stood  open.  She 
peeped  in  as  she  passed,  and  divined  from  the  empti- 
ness of  his  table,  and  the  general  appearance  of  things, 
that  he  was  already  gone.  Softly  opening  the  great 
hall  door,  and  softly  closing  it  upon  herself,  she  turned 
and  kissed  it  on  the  outside — insensible  old  combina- 
tion of  wood  and  iron  that  it  was  ! — before  she  ran 
away  from  the  house  at  a swift  pace. 

^^That  was  well  done  !”  panted  Bella,  slackening  in 
the  next  street,  and  subsiding  into  a walk.  If  I had 
left  myself  any  breath  to  cry  with,  I should  have  cried 
again.  Now,  poor  dear  darling  little  Pa,  you  are  going 
to  see  your  lovely  woman  unexpectedly.” 


FEAST  OF  THE  THREE  HOBGOBLINS.  195 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  FEAST  OF  THE  THREE  HOBGOBLINS. 

The  City  looked  unpromising  enough  as  Bella  made 
her  way  along  its  gritty  streets.  Most  of  its  money- 
mills  were  slackening  sail,  or  had  left  off  grinding  for 
the  day.  The  master-millers  had  already  departed,  and 
the  journeymen  were  departing.  There  was  a jaded 
aspect  on  the  business  lanes  and  courts,  and  the  very 
pavements  had  a weary  appearance,  confused  by  the 
tread  of  a million  of  feet.  There  must  be  hours  of  night 
to  temper  down  the  day’s  distraction  of  so  feverish  a 
place.  As  yet  the  worry  of  the  newly-stopped  whirling 
and  grinding  on  the  part  of  the  money-mills  seemed  to 
linger  in  the  air,  and  the  quiet  was  more  like  the  pros- 
tration of  a spent  giant  than  the  repose  of  one  who  was 
renewing  his  strength. 

If  Bella  thought,  as  she  glanced  at  the  mighty  Bank, 
how  agreeable  it  would  be  to  have  an  hour’s  gardening 
there,  with  a bright  copper  shovel,  among  the  money, 
still  she  was  not  in  an  avaricious  vein.  Much  improved 
in  that  respect,  and  with  certain  half -formed  images 
which  had  little  gold  in  their  composition,  dancing  be- 
fore her  bright  eyes,  she  arrived  in  the  drug-flavoured 
region  of  Mincing-lane,  with  the  sensation  of  having 
just  opened  a drawer  in  a chemist’s  shop. 

The  Counting-house  of  Chicksey,  Veneering,  and 
Stobbles  was  pointed  out  by  an  elderly  female  accus- 
tomed to  the  care  of  offices,  who  dropped  upon  Bella 
out  of  a public-house,  wiping  her  mouth,  and  accounted 
for  its  humidity  on  natural  principles  well  known  to  the 
physical  sciences,  by  explaining  that  she  had  looked  in 
at  the  door  to  see  what  o’clock  it  was.  The  counting- 
house  was  a wall-eyed  ground  floor  by  a dark  gateway, 
and  Bella  was  considering,  as  she  approached  it,  could 
there  be  any  precedent  in  the  City  for  her  going  in  and 
asking  for  R.  Wilfer,  when  whom  should  she  see,  sit- 
ting at  one  of  the  windows  with  the  plate-glass  sash 
raised,  but  R.  Wilfer  himself,  preparing  to  take  a slight 
refection  ! 

On  approaching  nearer,  Bella  discerned  that  the  re- 


196 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


fection  had  the  appearance  of  a small  cottage-loaf  and 
a pennyworth  of  milk.  Simultaneously  with  this  dis- 
covery on  her  part,  her  father  discovered  her,  and  in- 
voked the  echoes  of  Mincing  Lane  to  exclaim  My 
gracious  me  ! ” 

He  then  came  cherubically  flying  out  without  a hat, 
and  embraced  her,  and  handed  her  in.  For  it’s  after 
hours,  and  I am  all  alone,  my  dear,”  he  explained,  ^^and 
am  having — as  I sometimes  do  when  they  are  all  gone 
— a quiet  tea.” 

Looking  round  the  office,  as  if  her  father  were  a cap- 
tive and  this  his  cell,  Bella  hugged  him  and  choked 
him  to  her  heart’s  content. 

I never  was  so  surprised,  my  dear!  ” said  her  father, 
couldn’t  believe  my  eyes.  Upon  my  life,  I thought 
they  had  taken  to  lying  ! The  idea  of  your  coming 
down  the  Lane  yourself  1 Why  didn’t  you  send  the 
footman  down  the  Lane,  my  dear?” 

I have  brought  no  footman  with  me.  Pa.” 

^^Oh  indeed!  But  you  have  brought  the  elegant 
turn-out,  my  love?” 

^^No,  Pa.” 

You  never  can  have  walked,  my  dear?” 

^Wes,  I have.  Pa.” 

He  looked  so  very  much  astonished,  that  Bella  could 
not  make  up  her  mind  to  break  it  to  him  just  yet. 

^“^The  consequence  is.  Pa,  that  your  lovely  woman 
feels  a little  faint,  and  would  very  much  like  to  share 
your  tea.” 

The  cottage-loaf  and  the  pennyworth  of  milk  had 
been  set  forth  on  a sheet  of  paper  on  the  window-seat. 
The  cherubic  pocket-knife,  with  the  first  bit  of  the  loaf 
still  on  its  point,  lay  beside  them  where  it  had  been 
hastily  thrown  down.  Bella  took  the  bit  off,  and  put  it 
in  her  mouth.  My  dear  child,”  said  her  father,  the 
idea  of  your  partaking  of  such  lowly  fare.  But  at  least 
you  must  have  your  own  loaf  and  your  own  penn’orth. 
One  moment,  my  dear.  The  Dairy  is  just  over  the  way 
and  round  the  corner.” 

Regardless  of  Bella’s  dissuasions,  he  ran  out,  and 
quickly  returned  with  the  new  supply.  ‘^My  dear 
child,”  he  said,  as  he  spread  it  on  another  piece  of 

paper  before  her,  '^the  idea  of  a splendid !”and 

then  looked  at  her  figure,  and  stopped  short. 


FEAST  OF  THE  THREE  HOBGOBLINS.  197 


^'What’s  the  matter,  Pa?’’ 

— Of  a splendid  female,”  he  resumed  more  slowly, 

putting  up  with  such  accommodation  as  the  present! 
— Is  that  a new  dress  you  have  on,  my  dear?” 

''No,  Pa,  an  old  one.  Don’t  you  remember  it?” 

"Why,  I thought  I remembered  it,  my  dear!” 

"You  should,  for  you  bought  it.  Pa.” 

"Yes,  I thought  I bought  it,  my  dear!”  said  the 
cherub,  giving  himself  a little  shake,  as  if  to  rouse  his 
faculties. 

"And  have  you  grown  so  fickle  that  you  don’t  like 
your  own  taste.  Pa  dear?” 

"Well,  my  love,”  he  returned,  swallowing  a bit  of 
the  cottage-loaf  with  considerable  effort,  for  it  seemed 
to  stick  by  the  way:  "I  should  have  thought  it  was 
hardly  sufficiently  splendid  for  existing  circumstances.” 

" And  so.  Pa,”  said  Bella,  moving  coaxingly  to  his 
side  instead  of  remaining  opposite,  "you  sometimes 
have  a quiet  tea  here  all  alone?  I am  not  in  the  tea’s 
way,  if  I draw  my  arm  over  your  shoulder  like  this. 
Pa?” 

"Yes,  my  dear,  and  no,  my  dear.  Yes  to  the  first 
question,  and  Certainly  Not  to  the  second.  Respecting 
the  quiet  tea,  my  dear,  why  you  see  the  occupations  of 
the  day  are  sometimes  a little  wearing;  and  if  there’s 
nothing  interposed  between  the  day  and  your  mother, 
why,  she  is  sometimes  a little  wearing  too.” 

"I  know.  Pa.” 

"Yes,  my  dear.  So  sometimes  I put  a quiet  tea  at 
the  window  here,  with  a little  quiet  contemplation  of 
the  Lane  (which  comes  soothing),  between  the  day,  and 
domestic ” 

"Bliss,”  suggested  Bella,  sorrowfully. 

" And  domestic  Bliss,”  said  her  father,  quite  contented 
to  accept  the  phrase. 

Bella  kissed  him.  " And  it  is  in  this  dark  dingy  place 
of  captivity,  poor  dear,  that  you  pass  all  the  hours  of 
your  life  when  you  are  not  at  home?  ” 

"Not  at  home,  or  not  on  the  road  there,  or  on  the 
road  here,  my  love.  Yes.  You  see  that  little  desk  in 
the  corner?” 

" In  the  dark  corner,  furthest  both  from  the  light 
and  the  fireplace?  The  shabbiest  desk  of  all  the  desks?” 

" Now,  does  it  really  strike  you  in  that  point  of  view, 


198  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

my  dear?  ” said  her  father,  surveying  it  artistically  with 
his  head  on  one  side:  “ that’s  mine.  That  s called  Rumty  s 

“ Whose  perch?”  asked  Bella  with  great  indignation. 

“ Rumty’s.  You  see,  being  rather  high  and  up  two 
steps,  they  call  it  a Perch.  And  they  call  me  Rumty. 

“How  dare  they!”  exclaimed  Bella.  i ^ i 

“They’re  playful,  Bella,  my  dear ; they’re  playful. 
They’re  more  or  less  younger  than  I 
playful.  What  does  it  matter  ? It  might  be  Surly  or 
Sulky  or  fifty  disagreeable  things  that  I really  shouldn  t 
like  to  be  considered.  But  Rumty ! Lor,  why  not 

^T^  inflict  a heavy  disappointment  on  this  sweet  nature, 
which  had  been,  through  all  her  caprices,  the  object  of 
her  recognition,  love,  and  adnairation  from  infancy, 
Bella  felt  to  be  the  hardest  task  of  her  hard  day  I 
should  have  done  better,”  she  thougnt,  to  tell  him  at 
first  • I should  have  done  better  to  tell  him  just  now, 
when  he  had  some  slight  misgiving  ; he  is  quite  happy 
again,  and  I shall  make  him  wretched.' 

He  was  falling  back  on  his  loaf  and  mill^  with  the 
pleasantest  composure,  and  Bella  stealing  her  arm  a 
Fittle  closer  about  him,  and  at  the  same  tune  sticking  up 

his  hair  with  an  irresistible  propensity  to  play  with  him, 

founded  on  the  habit  of  her  whole  life,  had  PreP^red  her- 
self  to  say  : ''Pa  dear,  dont  be  cast  down,  but  I must 
tin  you  something  disagreeable  ! ” when  he  interrupted 
her  in  an  unlooked-for  manner.  i • ^ 

“Mv  gracious  me!”  he  exclaimed,  invoking  the 
Mincing  Lane  echoes  as  before.  ’’  Phis  is  very 
extraordinary.” 

“What  is.  Pa?” 

“ Why  here’s  Mr.  Rokesmith  now  . , 

“ No,  no.  Pa,  no ! ” cried  Bella,  greatly  flurried.  Surely 
not.”  ^ 

“ Yes,  there  is  ! Look  here  ! . .1,  • 

Sooth  to  say,  Mr.  Rokesmith  not  only  passed  the  win- 
dow, but  came  into  the  counting-house.  And  ncf  only 
came  into  the  counting-house,  but,  An^mg 
there  with  Bella  and  her  father,  rushed  at  Bella  and 
caught  her  in  his  arms,  with  the  rapturous  words  My 
dear  dear  girl ; my  gallant,  generous,  dismterestecb 
courageous,  noble  girl  !”  And  not  only  that  even  (which 


FEAST  OF  THE  THREE  HOBGOBLINS.  199 


one  might  have  thought  astonishment  enough  for  one 
dose),  but  Bella,  after  hanging  her  head  for  a moment, 
lifted  it  up  and  laid  it  on  his  breast,  as  if  that  were  her 
head’s  chosen  and  lasting  resting-place  ! 

I knew  you  would  come  to  him,  and  I followed  you,” 
said  Rokesmith.  My  love,  my  life  ! You  are  mine  ?” 

To  which  Bella  responded,  ^^Yes,  I am  yours  if  you 
think  me  worth  taking  ! ” And,  after  that,  seemed  to 
shrink  to  next  to  nothing  in  the  clasp  of  his  arms,  partly 
because  it  was  such  a strong  one  on  his  part,  and  partly 
because  there  was  such  a yielding  to  it  on  hers. 

The  cherub,  whose  hair  would  have  done  for  itself, 
under  the  influence  of  this  amazing  spectacle,  what 
Bella  had  just  now  done  for  it,  staggered  back  into  the 
window-seat  from  which  he  had  risen,  and  surveyed 
the  pair  with  his  eyes  dilated  to  their  utmost. 

But  we  must  think  of  dear  Pa,”  said  Bella  ; I haven’t 
told  dear  Pa ; let  us  speak  to  Pa.”  Upon  which  they 
turned  to  do  so. 

I wish  first,  my  dear,”  remarked  the  cherub  faintly, 
^^that  you’d  have  the  kindness  to  sprinkle  me  with  a 
little  milk,  for  I feel  as  if  I was — Going.” 

In  fact,  the  good  little  fellow  had  become  alarmingly 
limp,  and  his  senses  seemed  to  be  rapidly  escaping,  from 
the  knees  upward.  Bella  sprinkled  him  with  kisses 
instead  of  milk,  but  gave  him  a little  of  that  article  to 
drink ; and  he  gradually  revived  under  her  caressing 
care. 

We’ll  break  it  to  you  gently,  dearest  Pa,”  said  Bella. 

My  dear,”  returned  the  cherub,  looking  at  them  both, 
‘‘you  broke  so  much  in  the  first — Gush,  if  I may  so  ex- 
press myself — that  I think  I am  equal  to  a good  large 
breakage  now.” 

“Mr.  Wilfer,”  said  John  Rokesmith,  excitedly  and 
joyfully,  “Bella  takes  me,  though  I have  no  fortune, 
even  no  present  occupation  ; nothing  but  what  I can  get 
in  the  life  before  us.  Bella  takes  me  ! ” 

“ Yes,  I should  rather  have  inferred,  my  dear  sir,”  re- 
turned the  cherub  feebly,  “that  Bella  took  you,  from 
what  I have  within  these  few  minutes  remarked.” 

“You  don’t' know.  Pa,”  said  Bella,  “how  ill  I have 
used  him  ! ” . 

“You  don’t  know,  sir,"  said  Rokesmith,  “ what  a heart 
she  has  ! ” 


200 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


You  don’t  know,  Pa/’  said  Bella,  what  a shocking 
creature  I was  growing,  when  he  saved  me  from 
myself  ! ” 

You  don’t  know,  sir,”  said  Rokesmith,  what  a sacri- 
fice she  has  made  for  me  ! ” 

''  My  dear  Bella,”  replied  the  cherub,  still  pathetically 
scared,  and  my  dear  John  Rokesmith,  if  you  will  allow 
me  so  to  call  you ” 

^^Yes  do.  Pa,  do  !”  urged  Bella.  I allow  you,  and 
my  will  is  his  law.  Isn’t  it — dear  John  Rokesmith  ? ” 

There  was  an  engaging  shyness  in  Bella,  coupled  with 
an  engaging  tenderness  of  love  and  confidence  and 
pride,  in  thus  first  calling  him  by  name,  which  made  it 
quite  excusable  in  John  Rokesmith  to  do  what  he  did. 
What  he  did  was,  once  more  to  give  her  the  appearance 
of  vanishing  as  aforesaid. 

'^I  think,  my  dears,”  observed  the  cherub,  '^that  if 
you  could  make  it  convenient  to  sit  one  on  one  side  of 
me,  and  the  other  on  the  other,  we  should  get  on 
rather  more  consecutively,  and  make  things  rather 
plainer.  John  Rokesmith  mentioned,  a while  ago,  that 
he  had  no  present  occupation.” 

None,”  said  Rokesmith. 

^^No,  Pa,  none,”  said  Bella. 

From  which  I argue,”  proceeded  the  cherub,  ^^that 
he  has  left  Mr.  Boffin?” 

Yes,  Pa.  And  so ” 

Stop  a bit,  my  dear.  I wish  to  lead  up  to  it  by 
degrees.  And  that  Mr.  Boffin  has  not  treated  him 
well  ?” 

'^Has  treated  him  most  shamefully,  dear  Pa!”  cried 
Bella,  with  a hashing  face. 

'^Of  which,”  pursued  the  cherub,  enjoining  patience 
with  his  hand,  ‘^a  certain  mercenary  young  person 
distantly  related  to  myself,  could  not  approve  ? Am  I 
leading  up  to  it  right?” 

Could  not  approve,  sweet  Pa,”  said  Bella,  with  a 
tearful  laugh  and  a joyful  kiss. 

^^Upon  which,"  pursued  the  cherub,  ^^the  certain' 
mercenary  young  person  distantly  related  to  myself, 
having  previously  observed  and  mentioned  to  myself 
that  prosperity  was  spoiling  Mr.  Boffin,  felt  that  she 
must  not  sell  her  sense  of  what  was  right  and  what 
was  wrong,  and  what  was  true  and  what  was  false,  and 


FEAST  OP  THE  THREE  HOBaOBLINS.  201 

what  was  just  and  what  was  unjust,  for  any  price  that 
could  be  paid  to  her  by  any  one  alive  ? Am  I leading- 
up  to  it  right?  ” 

With  another  tearful  laugh  Bella  joyfully  kissed  him 
again. 

And  therefore  and  therefore,”  the  cherub  went  on 
in  a glowing  voice,  as  Bella’s  hand  stole  gradually  up 
his  waistcoat  to  his  neck,  “ this  mercenary  young  person 
distantly  related  to  myself,  refused  the  price,  took  off 
the  splendid  fashions  that  were  part  of  it,  put  on  the 
comparatively  poor  dress  that  I had  last  given  her  and 
trusting  to  my  supporting  her  in  what  was  right,  came 
straight  to  me.  Have  I led  up  to  it?  ” 

Bella’s  hand  was  round  his  neck  by  this  time,  and 
her  face  was  on  it. 

“The  mercenary  young  person  distantly  related  to 
niy&Glf,  said.  liGr  g*ood  fatliGr^  did  wgII  ! Th.G  niGrcG- 
nary  young  person  distantly  related  to  myself,  did  not 
trust  to  me  in  vain  ! I admire  this  mercenary  young 
person  distantly  related  to  myself  more  in  this  dress 
than  if  she  had  come  to  me  in  China  silks.  Cashmere 
siiawls,  and  Grolconda  diamonds.  I Iovg  this  yonn^ 
person  dearly.  I say  to  the  man  of  this  young  person’s 
heart,  out  of  my  heart  and  with  all  of  it,  ‘ My  blessing 
j i?  ongag'ement  betwixt  you,  and  she  brings  you  a 
good  fortune  when  she  brings  you  the  poverty  she  has 
accepted  for  your  sake  and  the  honest  truth’s  ! ’ ” 

T little  man’s  voice  failed  him  as  he  gave 

John  Rokesmith  his  hand,  and  he  was  silent,  bending 
his  face  low  over  his  daughter.  But,  not  for  long.  He 
soon  looked  up,  saying  in  a sprightly  tone  : 

‘iriid  now,  rny  dear  child,  if  you  think  you  can  en- 
tertain John  Rokesmith  for  a minute  and  a half  I’ll  run 
over  to  the  Dairy,  and  fetch  him  a cottage  loaf  and  a 
drink  of  milk,  that  we  may  all  have  tea  together.” 

H was,  as  Bella  gaily  said,  like  the  supper  provided 
tor  the  three  nursery  hobgoblins  at  their  house  in  the 
torest,  without  their  thunderous  low  growlings  of  the 
alarrnmg  discovery,  “Somebody’s  been  drinking  my 
^ delicious  repast ; by  far  the  most  de- 
licious that  Bella,  or  John  Rokesmith,  or  even  R.  Wilfer 
had  ever  made.  The  uncongenial  oddity  of  its  sur- 
1 brass  knobs  of  the  iron  safe  of 

bhicksey.  Veneering,  and  Stobbles  staring  from  a 


202 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRlENl). 


corner,  like  the  eyes  of  some  dull  dragon,  only  made  it 
the  more  delightful. 

To  think,”  said  the  cherub,  looking  round  the  office 
with  unspeakable  enjoyment,  '‘that  anything  of  a ten- 
der nature  should  come  off  here,  is  what  tickles  me.  To 
think  that  ever  I should  have  seen  my  Bella  folded  in 
the  arms  of  her  future  husband  here,  you  know  ! ” 

It  was  not  until  the  cottage  loaves  and  the  milk  had 
for  some  time  disappeared,  and  the  foreshadowings  of 
night  were  creeping  over  Mincing  Lane,  that  the  cherub 
by  degrees  became  a little  nervous,  and  said  to  Bella, 
as  he  cleared  his  throat  : 

" Hem  ! — Have  you  thought  at  all  abotit  your  mother, 
my  dear  ? ” 

"Yes,  Pa.” 

"And  your  sister  Lavvy,  for  instance,  my  dear?” 

" Yes,  Pa.  I think  we  had  better  not  enter  into  par- 
ticulars at  home.  I think  it  will  be  quite  enough  to 
say  that  I had  a difference  with  Mr.  Boffin,  and  have 
left  for  good.” 

"John  Rokesmith  being  acquainted  with  your  Ma, 
my  love,”  said  her  father,  after  some  slight  hesitation, 
" I need  have  no  delicacy  in  hinting  before  him  that 
you  may  perhaps  find  your  Ma  a little  wearing.” 

"A  little,  patient  Pa?”  said  Bella  with  a tuneful 
laugh:  the  tunefuller  for  being  so  loving  in  its  tone. 

" Well ! We’ll  say,  strictly  in  confidence  among  our- 
selves, wearing;  we  won’t  qualify  it,”  the  cherub  stoutly 
admitted.  "And  your  sister’s  temper  is  wearing.” 

"I  don’t  mind.  Pa.” 

"And  you  must  prepare  yourself,  you  know,  my  pre- 
ciqus,”  said  her  father,  with  much  gentleness,  "for  our 
looking  very  poor  and  meagre  at  home,  and  being  at  the 
best  but  very  uncomfortable,  after  Mr.  Boffin’s  house.” 

" I don’t  mind.  Pa.  I could  bear  much  harder  trials 
for  John.” 

The  closing  words  were  not  so  softly  and  blushingly 
said  but  that  John  heard  them,  and  showed  that  he 
heard  them  by  again  assisting  Bella  to  another  of  those 
mysterious  disappearances. 

"Well  !”  said  the  cherub  gaily,  and  not  expressing 
disapproval,  "when  you — when  you  come  back  from 
retirement,  my  love,  and  reappear  on  the  surface,  I 
think  it  will  be  time  to  lock  up  and  go.” 


FEAST  OF  THE  THREE  HOBGOBLINS.  203 


If  the  counting-house  of  Chicksey,  Veneering,  and 
Stobbles  had  ever  been  shut  up  by  three  happier  people, 
glad  as  most  people  were  to  shut  it  up,  they  must  have 
been  superlatively  happy  indeed.  But  first  Bella 
mounted  upon  Rumty’s  Perch,  and  said,  ^^Show  me 
what  you  do  here  all  day  long,  dear  Pa.  Do  you  write 
like  this?”  laying  her  round  cheek  upon  her  plump  left 
arm,  and  losing  sight  of  her  pen  in  waves  of  hair,  in  a 
highly  unbusiness-like  manner.  Though  John  Roke- 
smith  seemed  to  like  it. 

So,  the  three  hobgoblins,  having  effaced  all  traces  of 
their  feast,  and  swept  up  the  crumbs,  came  out  of  Minc- 
ing Lane  to  walk  to  Holloway;  and  if  two  of  the  hob- 
goblins didn’t  wish  the  distance  twice  as  long  as  it  was, 
the  third  hobgoblin  was  much  mistaken.  Indeed,  that 
modest  spirit  deemed  himself  so  much  in  the  way  of 
their  deep  enjoymentof  the  journey,  that  he  apologetic- 
ally remarked:  ^^I  thi^k,  my  dears,  Pll  take  the  lead 
on  the  other  side  of  the  road,  and  seem  not  to  belong  to 
you.”  Which  he  did,  cherubically  strewing  the  path 
with  smiles,  in  the  absence  of  flowers. 

It  was  almost  ten  o’clock  when  they  stopped  within 
view  of  Wilfer  Castle;  and  then,  the  spot  being  quiet 
and  deserted,  Bella  began  a series  of  disappearances 
which  threatened  to  last  all  night. 

‘^1  think,  John,”  the  cherub  hinted  at  last,  ^^that  if 
you  can  spare  me  the  young  person  distantly  related  to 
myself.  I’ll  take  her  in.” 

I can’t  spare  her,”  answered  John,  but  I must  lend 
her  to  you. — My  Darling!”  A word  of  magic  which 
caused  Bella  instantly  to  disappear  again. 

Now,  dearest  Pa,”  said  Bella,  when  she  became 
visible,  put  your  hand  in  mine,  and  we’ll  run  home 
as  fast  as  ever  we  can  run,  and  get  it  over.  Now,  Pa. 
Once! ” 

My  dear,”  the  cherub  faltered,  with  something  of  a 
craven  air,  I was  going  to  observe  that  if  your 
mother ” 

'^You  mustn’t  hang  back,  sir,  to  gain  time,”  cried 
Bella,  putting  out  her  right  foot;  ^'do  you  see  that,  sir? 
That’s  the  mark;  come  up  to  the  mark,  sir.  Once! 
Twice!  Three  times  and  away.  Pa!  ” Off  she  skimmed, 
bearing  the  cherub  along,  nor  ever  stopped,  nor  suffered 
him  to  stop,  until  she  had  pulled  at  the  bell.  ''  Now, 


204 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


dear  Pa/’  said  Bella,  taking  him  by  both  ears  as  if  he 
were  a pitcher,  and  conveying  his  face  to  her  rosy  lips, 

we  are  in  for  it!  ” 

Miss  Lavvy  came  out  to  open  the  gate,  waited  on  by 
that  attentive  cavalier  and  friend  of  the  family,  Mr. 
George  Sampson.  Why,  it’s  never  Bella!  ” exclaimed 
Miss  Lavvy,  starting  back  at  the  sight.  And  then 
bawled,  '^Ma!  Here’s  Bella!  ” 

This  produced,  before  they  could  get  into  the  house, 
Mrs.  Wilfer.  Who,  standing  in  the  portal,  received 
them  with  ghostly  gloom,  and  all  her  other  appliances 
of  ceremony. 

''My  child  is  welcome,  though  unlooked  for,”  said 
she,  at  the  time  presenting  her  cheek  as  if  it  were  a 
cool  slate  for  visitors  to  enroll  themselves  upon.  "You 
too,  R.  W.,  are  welcome,  though  late.  Does  the  male 
domestic  of  Mrs.  Boffin  hear  me  there?”  This  deep 
toned  inquiry  was  ca>st  forth  into  the  night  for  response 
from  the  menial  in  question. 

"There  is  no  one  waiting,  Ma  dear,”  said  Bella. 

"There  is  no  one  waiting?”  repeated  Mrs.  Wilfer  in 
majestic  accents. 

"No,  Ma  dear.” 

A dignified  shiver  pervaded  Mrs.  Wilfer’s  shoulders 
and  gloves,  as  who  should^  say,  "An  Enigma  !”  and 
then  she  marched  at  the  head  of  the  procession  to  the 
family  keeping-room,  where  she  observed: 

"Unless,  R.  W. who  started  on  being  solemnly 
turned  upon:  "you  have  taken  the  precaution  of  mak- 
ing some  addition  to  our  frugal  supper  on  your  way 
home,  it  will  prove  but  a distasteful  one  to  Bella.  Cold 
neck  of  mutton  and  a lettuce  can  ill  compete  with  the 
luxuries  of  Mr.  Boffin’s  board.” 

" Pray  don’t  talk  like  that,  Ma  dear,”  said  Bella; 
" Mr.  Boffin’s  board  is  nothing  to  me.” 

But,  here  Miss  Lavinia,  who  had  been  intently  eyeing 
Bella’s  bonnet,  struck  in  with  "Why,  Bella!” 

" Yes,  Lavvy,  I know.” 

The  Irrepressible  lowered  her  eyes  to  Bella’s  dress, 
and  stopped  to  look  at  it,  exclaiming  again:  "Why, 
Bella!  ” 

"Yes,  Lavvy,  I know  what  I have  got  on.  I was  going 
to  tell  Ma  when  you  interrupted.  I have  left  Mr.  Bof- 
ftns’s  house  for  good,  Ma,  and  I have  come  home  again.” 


FEAST  OF  THE  THREE  HOBGOBLINS.  205 


Mrs.  Wilfer  spake  no  word,  but,  having  glared  at 
her  offspring  for  a minute  or  two  in  an  awful  silence, 
retired  into  her  corner  of  state  backward,  and  sat 
down  : like  a frozen  article  on  sale  in  a Russian 
market. 

‘‘In  short,  dear  Ma,’’  said  Bella,  taking  off  the  depre- 
cated bonnet  and  shaking  out  her  hair,  I have  had  a 
very  serious  difference  with  Mr.  Boffin  on  the  subject 
of  the  treatment  of  a member  of  his  household,  and  it’s 
a final  difference,  and  there’s  an  end  of  all.” 

And  I am  bound  to  tell  you,  my  dear,”  added  R.  W., 
submissively,  that  Bella  has  acted  in  a truly  brave 
spirit,  and  with  a truly  right  feeling.  And  therefore 
I hope,  my  dear,  you’ll  not  allow  yourself  to  be  greatly 
-disappointed.” 

George!”  said  Miss  Lawvy,  in  a sepulchral,  warning 
voice,  founded  on  her  mother’s;  George  Sampson, 
speak!  What  did  I tell  you  about  those  Boffins?” 

Mr.  Sampson,  perceiving  his  frail  bark  to  be  labouring 
among  shoals  and  breakers,  thought  it  safest  not  to 
refer  back  to  any  particular  thing  that  he  had  been 
told,  lest  he  should  refer  back  to  the  wrong  thing. 
With  admirable  seamanship  he  got  his  bark  into  deep 
water  by  murmuring  “Yes,  indeed.” 

'Wes!  I told  George  Sampson,  as  George  Sampson 
tells  you,”  said  MissLavvy,  "that  those  hateful  Boffins 
would  pick  a quarrel  with  Bella  as  soon  as  her  novelty 
had  worn  off.  Have  they  done  it,  or  have  they  not  ? 
Was  I right,  or  was  I wrong?  And  what  do  you  say  to 
us,  Bella,  of  your  Boffins  now  ? ” 

" Lavvy  and  Ma,”  said  Bella,  " I say  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Boffin  what  I always  have  said;  and  I always  shall  say 
of  them  what  I always  have  said.  But  nothing  will  in- 
duce me  to  quarrel  with  any  one  to-night.  I hope  you 
are  not  sorry  to  see  me,  Ma  dear,”  kissing  her;  "and  I 
hope  you  are  not  sorry  to  see  me,  Lavvy,”  kissing  her 
too  ; " and,  as  I notice  the  lettuce  Ma  mentioned,  on  the 
table.  I’ll  make  the  salad.” 

Bella  playfully  setting  herself  about  the  task,  Mrs. 
Wilfer’s  impressive  countenance  followed  her  with 
glaring  eyes,  presenting  a combination  of  the  once 
popular  sign  of  the  Saracen’s  Head,  with  a piece  of 
Dutch  clock-work,  and  suggesting  to  an  imaginative 
mind  that  from  the  composition  of  the  salad  her 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


::^06 

daughter  might  prudently  omit  the  vinegar.  But  no 
word  issued  from  the  majestic  matron’s  lips.  And  this 
was  more  terrific  to  her  husband  (as  perhaps  she  knew) 
than  any  fiow  of  eloquence  with  which  she  could  have 
edified  the  company. 

'^Now,  Ma  dear/’  said  Bella  in  due  course,  ''the 
salad’s  ready,  and  it’s  past  supper-time.” 

Mrs.  W ilf  er  rose,  but  remained  speechless.  ' ' George  I ” 
said  Miss  Lavinia  in  her  voice  of  warning,  "Ma’s 
chair!”  Mr.  Sampson  fiewto  the  excellent  lady’s  back, 
and  followed  her  up  close,  chair  in  hand,  as  she  stalked 
to  the  banquet.  Arrived  at  the  table,  she  took  her  rigid 
seat,  after  favouring  Mr.  Sampson  with  a glare  for  him- 
self, which  caused  the  young  gentleman  to  retire  to  his 
place  in  much  confusion. 

The  cherub,  not  presuming  to  address  so  tremendous 
an  object,  transacted  her  supper  through  the  agency  of 
a third  person,  as  " Mutton  to  your  Ma,  Bella,  my  dear;” 
and  " Lavvy,  I dare  say  your  Ma  would  take  some  let- 
tuce if  you  were  to  put  it  on  her  plate.”  Mrs.  Wilfer’s 
manner  of  receiving  those  viands  was  marked  by  pe- 
trified absence  of  mind;  in  which  state,  likewise,  she 
partook  of  them,  occasionally  laying  down  her  knife 
and  fork,  as  saying  within  her  own  spirit,"  What  is  this 
I am  doing?”  and  glaring  at  one  or  other  of  the  party, 
as  if  in  indignant  search  of  information.  A magnetic 
result  of  such  glaring  was,  that  the  person  glared  at 
could  not  by  any  means  successfully  pretend  to  be 
ignorant  of  the  fact ; so  that  a bystander,  without  be- 
holding Mrs.  Wilfer  at  all,  must  have  known  at  whom 
she  was  glaring,  by  seeing  her  refracted  from  the  coun- 
tenance of  the  beglared  one. 

Miss  Lavinia  was  extremely  affable  to  Mr.  Sampson 
on  this  special  occasion,  and  took  the  opportunity  of  in- 
forming her  sister  why. 

" It  was  not  worth  troubling  you  about,  Bella,  when 
7fou  were  in  a sphere  so  far  removed  from  your  family 
as  to  make  it  a matter  in  which  you  could  be  expected 
to  take  very  little  interest,”  said  Lavinia  with  a toss  of 
her  chin  ; " but  George  Sampson  is  paying  his  addresses 
to  me.” 

Bella  was  glad  to  hear  it.  Mr.  Sampson  became 
thoughtfully  red,  and  felt  called  upon  to  encircle  Miss 
Lavinia’s  waist  with  his  arm  ; but  encountering  a large 


FEAST  OF  THE  THREE  HOBGOBLINS.  307 


pin  in  the  young  lady’s  belt,  sacrificed  a finger,  uttered 
a sharp  exclamation,  and  attracted  the  lightning  of 
Mrs.  Wilfer’s  glare. 

George  is  getting  on  very  well,”  said  Miss  Lavinia 
— which  might  not  have  been  supposed  at  the  moment 
— ^^and  I dare  say  we  shall  be  married  one  of  these 
days.  I didn’t  care  to  mention  it  when  you  were  with 

your  Bof ” here  Miss  Lavinia  checked  herself  in  a 

bounce,  and  added  more  placidly,  when  you  were  with 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin  ; but  now  I think  it  sisterly  to  name 
the  circumstance.” 

Thank  you,  Lavvy  dear.  I congratulate  you.” 

Thank  you,  Bella.  The  truth  is,  George  and  I did 
discuss  whether  I should  tell  you;  but  I said  to  George 
that  you  wouldn’t  be  much  interested  in  so  paltry  an 
affair,  and  that  it  was  far  more  likely  you  would  rather 
detach  yourself  from  us  altogether  than  have  him  added 
to  the  rest  of  us.” 

That  was  a mistake,  dear  Lavvy,”  said  Bella. 

turns  out  to  be,”  replied  Miss  Lavinia ; but  cir- 
cumstances have  changed,  you  know,  my  dear.  George 
is  in  a new  situation,  and  his  prospects  are  very  good 
indeed.  I shouldn’t  have  had  the  courage  to  tell  you  so 
yesterday,  when  you  would  have  thought  his  prospects 
poor,  and  not  worth  notice  ; but  I feel  quite  bold  to- 
night.” 

When  did  you  begin  to  feel  timid,  Lavvy  ?”  inquired 
Bella,  with  a smile. 

didn’t  say  that  I ever  felt  timid,  Bella,”  replied  the 
Irrepressible.  But  perhaps  I might  have  said,  if  I had 
not  been  restrained  by  delicacy  towards  a sister’s  feel- 
ings, that  I have  for  some  time  felt  independent : too 
independent,  my  dear,  to  subject  myself  to  have  my 
intended  match  (you’ll  prick  yourself  again,  George) 
looked  down  upon.  It  is  not  that  I could  have  blamed 
you  for  looking  down  upon  it,  when  you  were  looking 
up  to  a rich  and  great  match,  Bella ; it  is  only  that  I 
was  independent.” 

Whether  the  Irrepressible  felt  slighted  by  Bella’s 
declaration  that  she  would  nosfc  quarrel,  or  whether  her 
spitefulness  was  evoked  by  Bella’s  return  to  the  sphere 
of  Mr.  George  Sampson’s  courtship,  or  whether  it  was 
a necessary  fillip  to  her  spirits  that  she  should  come  into 
collision  with  somebody  on  the  present  occasion, — any- 


208 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


how,  she  made  a dash  at  her  stately  parent  now  with 
the  greatest  impetuosity. 

Ma,  pray  don’t  sit  staring  at  me  in  that  intensely 
aggravating  manner  ! If  you  see  a black  on  my  nose, 
tell  me  so ; if  you  don’t,  leave  me  alone.” 

^^Do  you  address  Me  in  those  words?”  said  Mrs. 
Wilfer.  Do  you  presume  ? ” 

Don’t  talk  about  presuming,  Ma,  for  goodness’  sake. 
A girl  who  is  old  enough  to  be  engaged,  is  quite  old 
enough  to  object  to  be  stared  at  as  if  she  was  a Clock.” 

^'Audacious  one  !”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer.  'Wour  grand- 
mamma, if  so  addressed  by  one  of  her  daughters,  at 
any  age,  would  have  insisted  on  her  retiring  to  a dark 
apartment.” 

My  grandmamma,”  returned  Lavvy,  folding  arms 
and  leaning  back  in  her  chair,  ''  wouldn’t  have  sat  star- 
ing people  out  of  countenance,  I think.” 

She  would  !”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer. 

Then  it’s  a pity  she  didn’t  know  better,”  said  Lavvy. 

And  if  my  grandmamma  wasn’t  in  her  dotage  when 
she  took  to  insisting  on  people’s  retiring  to  dark  apart- 
ments, she  ought  to  have  been.  A pretty  exhibition  my 
grandmamma  must  have  made  of  herself  ! I wonder 
whether  she  ever  insisted  on  people’s  retiring  into  the 
ball  of  St.  Paul’s  ; and  if  she  did,  how  she  got  them 
there  ! ” 

Silence!”  proclaimed  Mrs.  Wilfer.  ^^I  command 
silence  I ” 

I have  not  the  slightest  intention  of  being  silent, 
Ma,”  returned  Lavinia  coolly,  but  quite  the  contrary. 
I am  not  going  to  be  eyed  as  if  I had  come  from  the 
Boffins,  and  sit  silent  under  it.  I am  not  going  to  have 
George  Sampson  eyed  as  if  he  had  come  from  the  Boffins, 
and  sit  silent  under  it.  If  Pa  thinks  proper  to  be  eyed 
as  if  he  had  come  from  the  Boffins  also,  well  and  good. 
I don’t  choose  to.  And  I won’t  1 ” 

Lavinia’s  engineering  having  made  this  crooked 
opening  at  Bella,  Mrs.  Wilfer  strode  into  it. 

^Wou  rebellious  spirit!  You ^ mutinous  child!  .Tell 
me  this,  Lavinia.  If,  in  violation  of  your  mother’s 
sentiments,  you  had  condescended  to  allow  yourself  to 
be  patronised  by  the  Boffins,  and  if  you  had  come  from 
those  halls  of  slavery ” 

That’s  mere  nonsense,  Ma,”  said  Lavinia. 


FEAST  OF  THE  THREE  HOBGOBLINS.  SOd 


exclaimed  Mrs.  Wilfer,  with  sublime 

severity. 

Halls  of  slavery,  Ma,  is  mere  stuff  and  nonsense,’’ 
returned  the  unmoved  Irrepressible. 

I say,  presumptuous  child,  if  you  had  come  from 
the  neighbourhood  of  Portland  Place,  bending  under  the 
yoke  of  patronage  and  attended  by  its  domestics  in 
glittering  garb  to  visit  me,  do  you  think  my  deep- 
seated  feelings  could  have  been  expressed  in  looks?” 

All  I think  about  it  is,”  returned  Lavinia,  that  I 
should  wish  them  expressed  to ‘the  right  person.” 

And  if,”  pursued  her  mother,  if,  making  light  of 
my  warnings  that  the  face  of  Mrs.  Boffin  alone  was  a 
face  teeming  with  evil,  you  had  clung  to  Mrs.  Boffin 
instead  of  to  me,  and  had,  after  all,  come  home  rejected 
by  Mrs.  Boffin,  trampled  under  foot  by  Mrs.  Boffin,  and 
cast  out  by  Mrs.  Boffin,  do  you  think  my  feelings  could 
have  been  expressed  iu  looks?” 

Lavinia  was  about  replying  to  her  honoured  parent 
that  she  might  as  well  have  dispensed  with  her  looks 
altogether  then,  when  Bella  arose  and  said,  Good 
night,  dear  Ma.  I have  had  a tiring  day,  and  I’ll  go  to 
bed.”  This  broke  up  the  agreeable  party.  Mr.  George 
Sampson  shortly  afterwards  took  his  leave,  accom- 
panied by  Miss  Lavinia  with  a candle  as  far  as  the  hall, 
and  without  a candle  as  far  as  the  garden  gate:  Mrs. 
Wilfer,  washing  her  hands  of  the  Boffins,  went  to  bed 
after  the  manner  of  Lady  Macbeth;  and  R.  W.  was 
left  alone,  among  the  dilapidations  of  the  supper-table, 
in  a melancholy  attitude. 

But  a light  footstep  roused  him  from  his  meditations, 
and  it  was  Bella’s.  Her  pretty  hair  was  hanging  all 
about  her,  and  she  had  tripped  down  softly,  brush  in 
hand,  and  barefoot,  to  say  good-night  to  him. 

^^My  dear,  you  most  unquestionably  are  a lovely 
woman,”  said  the  cherub,  taking  up  a tress  in  his  hand. 

Look  here,  sir,”  said  Bella;  ^‘^when  your  lovely 
woman  marries,  you  shall  have  that  piece  if  you  like, 
and  she’ll  make  you  a chain  of  it.  Would  you  prize 
that  remembrance  of  the  dear  creature?” 

‘Wes,  my  precious.” 

“ Then  you  shall  have  it  if  you’re  good,  sir.  I am 
very,  very  sorry,  dearest  Pa,  to  have  brought  home  all 
this  trouble.” 

VOL.  II. 


14 


210 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


My  pet/^  returned  her  father,  in  the  simplest  good 
faith,  ''  don’t  make  yourself  uneasy  about  that.  It 
really  is  not  worth  mentioning,  because  things  at  home 
would  have  taken  pretty  much  the  same  turn  any  way. 
If  your  mother  and  sister  don’t  find  one  subject  to  get 
at  times  a little  wearing  on,  they  find  another.  We’re 
never  out  of  a wearing  subject,  my  dear,  I assure  you. 
I am  afraid  you  find  your  old  room  with  Lavvy  dread- 
fully inconvenient,  Bella.” 

^^No,  I don’t.  Pa;  I don’t  mind.  Why  don’t  I mind,  do 
you  think.  Pa?” 

Well,  my  child,  you  used  to  complain  of  it  when  it 
wasn’t  such  a contrast  as  it  must  be  now.  Upon  my 
word,  I can  only  answer,  because  you  are  so  much  im- 
proved.” 

No,  Pa.  Because  I am  so  thankful  and  so  happy.” 

Here  she  choked  him  until  her  long  hair  made  him 
sneeze,  and  then  she  laughed  until  she  made  him  laugh, 
and  then  she  choked  him  again  that  they  might  not  be 
overheard. 

Listen,  sir,”  said  Bella.  Your  lovely  woman  was 
told  her  fortune  to-night  on  her  way  home.  It  won’t  be 
a large  fortune,  because  if  the  lovely  woman’s  Intended 
gets  a certain  appointment  that  he  hopes  to  get  soon, 
she  will  marry  on  a hundred  and  fifty  pounds  a year. 
But  that’s  at  first,  and  even  if  it  should  never  be  more, 
the  lovely  woman  will  make  it  quite  enough.  But  that’s 
not  all,  sir.  In  the  fortune  there’s  a certain  fair  man — 
a little  man,  the  fortune-teller  said — who,  it  seems,  will 
always  find  himself  near  the  lovely  woman,  and  will 
always  have  kept,  expressly  for  him,  such  a peaceful 
corner  in  the  lovely  woman’s  little  house  as  never  was. 
Tell  me  the  name  of  that  man,  sir.” 

Is  he  a Knave  in  the  pack  of  cards?”  inquired  the 
cherub,  with  a twinkle  in  his  eyes. 

'Wes!”  cried  Bella,  in  high  glee,  choking  him  again. 
"He’s  the  Knave  of  Wilfers!  Dear  Pa,  the  lovely 
woman  means  to  look  forward  to  this  fortune  that  has 
been  told  for  her  so  delightfully,  and  to  cause  it  to 
make  her  a much  better  lovely  woman  than  she  ever 
has  been  yet.  What  the  little  fair  man  is  expected 
to  do,  sir,  is  to  look  forward  to  it  also,  by  saying 
to  himself,  when  he  is  in  danger  of  being  over- worried, 
' I see  land  at  last!  ’ ” 


A SOCIAL  CHORUS. 


211 


I see  land  at  last  ! ’’  repeated  her  father. 

^'There’s  a dear  Knave  of  Wilfers!”  exclaimed 
Bella;  then  putting  out  her  small  white  bare  foot, 
That’s  the  mark,  sir.  Come  to  the  mark.  Put  your 
boot  against  it.  We  keep  to  it  together,  mind  ! Now, 
sir,  you  may  kiss  the  lovely  woman  before  she  runs 
away,  so  thankful  and  so  happy.  Oh  yes,  fair  little 
man,  so  thankful  and  so  happy  ! ” 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

A SOCIAL  CHORUS. 

Amazement  sits  enthroned  upon  the  countenances 
of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Alfred  Lammle’s  circle  of  ac- 
quaintance when  the  disposal  of  their  first-class  furni- 
ture and  effects  (including  a Billiard  Table  in  capital 
letters),  ^'by  auction,  under  a bill  of  sale,”  is  publicly 
announced  on  a waving  hearthrug  in  Sackville  Street. 
But,  nobody  is  half  so  much  amazed  as  Hamilton  Ve- 
neering, Esquire,  M.P.  for  Pocket  Breaches,  who  in- 
stantly begins  to  find  out  that  the  Lammles  are  the  only 
people  ever  entered  on  his  soul’s  register  who  are  not 
the  oldest  and  dearest  friends  he  has  in  the  world.  Mrs. 
Veneering,  W.  M.  P.  for  Pocket  Breaches,  like  a faith- 
ful wife,  shares  her  husband’s  discovery  and  inexpres- 
sible astonishment.  Perhaps  the  Veneerings  twain  may 
deem  the  last  unutterable  feeling  particularly  due  to 
their  reputation,  by  reason  that  once  upon  a time  some 
of  the  longer  heads  in  the  City  are  whispered  to  have 
shaken  themselves,  when  Veneering’s  extensive  deal- 
ings and  great  wealth  were  mentioned.  But,  it  is  certain 
that  neither  Mr.  nor  Mrs.  Veneering  can  find  words  to 
wonder  in,  and  it  becomes  necessary  that  they  give  to 
the  oldest  and  dearest  friends  they  have  in  the  world, 
a wondering  dinner. 

For,  it  is  by  this  time  noticeable  that,  whatever  be- 
falls, the  Veneerings  must  give  a dinner  upon  it.  Lady 
Tippins  lives  in  a chronic  state  of  invitation  to  dine  with 
the  Veneerings,  and  in  a chronic  state  of  infiamma- 


212 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


tion  arising  from  the  dinners.  Boots  and  Brewer  go 
about  in  cabs,  with  no  other  intelligible  business  on 
earth  than  to  beat  up  people  to  come  and  dine  with 
the  Veneerings.  Veneering  pervades  the  legislative 
lobbies,  intent  upon  entrapping  his  fellow-legislators 
to  dinner.  Mrs.  Veneering  dined  with  five-and-twenty 
bran-new  faces  over  night;  calls  upon  them  all  to-day; 
sends  them  every  one  a dinner-card  to-morrow,  for 
the  week  after  next ; before  that  dinner  is  digested, 
calls  upon  their  brothers  and  sisters,  their  sons  and 
daughters,  their  nephews  and  nieces,  their  aunts  an'd 
uncles  and  cousins,  and  invites  them  all  to  dinner. 
And  still,  as  at  first,  howsoever,  the  dining  circle 
widens,  it  is  to  be  observed  that  all  the  diners  are  con- 
sistent in  apijearing  to  go  to  the  Veneerings,  not  to  dine 
with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Veneering  (which  would  seem  to  be 
the  last  thing  in  their  minds),  but  to  dine  with  one 
another. 

Perhaps,  after  all, — who  knows? — Veneering  may  find 
this  dining,  though  expensive,  remunerative,  in  the 
sense  that  it  makes  champions.  Mr,  Podsnap,  as  a re- 
presentative man,  is  not  alone  in  caring  very  particu- 
larly for  his  own  dignity,  if  not  for  that  of  his  acquaint- 
ances, and  therefore  in  angrily  supporting  the  ac- 
quaintances who  have  taken  out  his  Permit,  lest,  in 
their  being  lessened,  he  should  be.  The  gold  and  silver 
camels,  and  the  ice-pails,  and  the  rest  of  the  Veneer- 
ing table  decorations,  make  a brilliant  show,  and  when 
I,  Podsnap,  casually  remark  elsewhere  that  I dined  last 
Monday  with  a gorgeous  caravan  of  camels,  I find  it 
personally  offensive  to  have  it  hinted  to  me  that  they 
are  broken-kneed  camels,  or  camels  labouring  under 
suspicion  of  any  sort.  ‘‘1  don’t  display  camels  my- 
self, I am  above  them:  I am  a more  solid  man;  but 
these  camels  have  basked  in  the  light  of  my  counten- 
ance, and  how  dare  you,  sir,  insinuate  to  me  that  I 
have  irradiated  any  but  unimpeachable  camels?” 

The  camels  are  polishing  up  in  the  Analytical’s 
pantry  for  the  dinner  of  wonderment  on  the  occasion 
of  the  Lammles  going  to  pieces,  and  Mr.  Twemlow 
feels  a little  queer  on  the  sofa  at  his  lodgings  over  the 
stable  yard  in  Duke  Street,  Saitit  James’s,  in  conse- 
quence of  having  taken  two  advertised  pills  at  about 
mid-day,  on  the  faith  of  the  printed  representation  ac- 


A SOCIAL  CHORUS. 


213 


companying  the  box  (price  one-and-a-penny-halfpenny, 
government  stamp  included),  that  the  same  ‘^‘^will  be 
found  highly  salutary  as  a precautionary  measure  in 
connection  with  the  pleasures  of  the  table.’’  To  whom, 
while  sickly  with  the  fancy  of  an  insoluble  pill  stick- 
ing in  his  gullet,  and  also  with  the  sensation  of  a de- 
posit of  warm  gum  languidly  wandering  within  him  a 
little  lower  down,  a servant  enters  with  the  announce- 
ment that  a lady  wishes  to  speak  to  him. 

A lady ! ” says  Twemlow,  pluming  his  ruffled 
feathers.  Ask  the  favour  of  the  lady’s  name.” 

The  lady’s  name  is  Lammle.  The  lady  will  not  de- 
tain Mr.  Twemlow  longer  than  a very  few  minutes. 
The  lady  is  sure  that  Mr.  Twemlow  will  do  her  the 
kindness  to  see  her,  on  being  told  that  she  particularly 
desires  a short  interview.  The  lady  has  no  doubt  what- 
ever of  Mr.  Twemlow’s  compliance  when  he  hears  her 
name.  Has  begged  the  servant  to  be  particular  not  to 
mistake  her  name.  Would  have  sent  in  a card,  but 
has  none. 

'^Show  the  lady  in.”  Lady,  shown  in,  comes  in. 

Mr.  Twemlow’s  little  rooms  are  modestly  furnished, 
in  an  old-fashioned  manner  (rather  like  the  house- 
keeper’s room  at  Snigs worthy  Park),  and  would  be 
bare  of  mere  ornament,  were  it  not  for  a full-length 
engraving  of  the  sublime  Snigsworth,  over  the  chim- 
neypiece,  snorting  at  a Corinthian  column,  with  an 
enormous  roll  of  paper  at  his  feet,  and  a heavy  curtain 
going  to  tumble  down  on  his  head ; those  accessories 
being  understood  to  represent  the  noble  lord  as  some- 
how in  the  act  of  saving  his  country. 

Pray  take  a seat,  Mrs.  Lammle.”  Mrs.  Lammle 
takes  a seat  and  opens  the  conversation. 

I have  no  doubt,  Mr.  Twemlow,  that  you  have  heard 
of  a reverse  of  fortune  having  befallen  us.  Of  course 
you  have  heard  of  it,  for  no  kind  of  news  travels  so 
fast — among  one’s  friends  especially.” 

Mindful  of  the  wondering  dinner,  Twemlow,  with  a 
little  twinge,  admits  the  imputation. 

'^Probably  it  will  not,”  says  Mrs.  Lammle,  with  a 
certain  hardened  manner  upon  her  that  makes  Twem- 
low shrink,  ^^have  surprised  you  so  much  as  some 
others,  after  what  passed  between  us  at  the  house 
which  is  now  turned  out  at  windows.  I have  taken 


314 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


the  liberty  of  calling  upon  you,  Mr.  Twemlow,  to  add  a 
sort  of  postscript  to  what  I said  that  day.” 

Mr.  Twemlow’s  dry  and  hollow  cheeks  become  more 
dry  and  hollow  at  the  prospect  of  some  new  complica- 
tion. 

Really/'  says  the  uneasy  little  gentleman,  really, 
Mrs.  Lammle,  I should  take  it  as  a favour  if  you  could 
excuse  me  from  any  further  confidence.  It  has  ever 
been  one  of  the  objects  of  my  life — which,  unfortunate- 
ly, has  not  had  many  objects — to  be  inoffensive,  and  to 
keep  oift  of  cabals  and  interferences.” 

Mrs.  Lammle,  by  far  the  more  observant  of  the  two, 
scarcely  finds  it  necessary  to  look  at  Twemlow  while 
he  speaks,  so  easily  does  she  read  him. 

My  postscript — to  retain  the  term  I have  used  ”— 
says  Mrs.  Lammle,  fixing  her  eyes  on  his  face,  to  en- 
force what  she  says  herself — ^'coincides  exactly  with 
what  you  say,  Mr.  Twemlow.  So  far  from  troubling 
you  with  any  new  confidence,  I merely  wish  to  remind 
you  what  the  old  one  was.  So  far  from  asking  you 
for  interference,  I merely  wish  to  claim  your  strict  neu- 
trality.” 

Twemfow  going  on  to  reply,  she  rests  her  eyes  again, 
knowing  her  ears  to  be  quite  enough  for  the  contents  of 
so  weak  a vessel. 

I can,  I suppose,”  says  Twemlow,  nervously,  ''  offer 
no  reasonable  objection  to  hearing  anything  that  you 
do  me  the  honour  to  wish  to  say  to  me  under  those  heads. 
But  if  I may,  with  all  possible  delicacy  and  politeness, 
entreat  you  not  to  range  beyond  them,  I — I beg  to  do 
so.” 

Sir,”  says  Mrs.  Lammle,  raising  her  eyes  to  his  face 
again,  and  quite  daunting  him  with  her  hardened  man- 
ner, '^I  imparted  to  you  a certain  piece  of  knowledge, 
to  be  imparted  again,  as  you  thought  best,  to  a certain 
person.” 

Which  I did,”  says  Twemlow. 

And  for  doing  which,  I thank  you  ; though,  indeed, 
I scarcely  know  why  I turned  traitress  to  my  husband 
in  the  matter,  for  the  girl  is  a poor  little  fool.  I was  a 
poor  little  fool  once  myself  ; I can  find  no  better  reason.” 
Seeing  the  effect  she  produces  on  him  by  her  indiffer- 
ent laugh  and  cold  look,  she  keeps  her  eyes  upon  him 
as  she  proceeds.  Mr.  Twemlow,  if  you  should  chance 


A SOCIAL  CHORUS. 


216 


to  see  my  husband,  or  to  see  me,  or  to  see  both  of  us, 
in  the  favour  or  confidence  of  any  one  else — whether  of 
our  common  acquaintance  or  not,  is  of  no  consequence 
— you  have  no  right  to  use  against  us  the  knowledge  I 
intrusted  you  with,  for  one  special  purpose  which  has 
been  accomplished.  This  is  what  I came  to  say.  It  is  not 
a stipulation  ; to  a gentleman  it  is  simply  a reminder.'’ 

Twemlow  sits  murmuring  to  himself  with  his  hand  to 
his  forehead. 

It  is  so  plain  a case,”  Mrs.  Lammle  goes  on,  as  be- 
tween me  (from  the  first  relying  on  your  honour)  and 
you,  that  I will  not  waste  another  word  upon  it.”  She 
looks  steadily  at  Mr.  Twemlow,  until,  with  a shrug,  he 
makes  her  a little  one-sided  bow,  as  though  saying. 
Yes,  I think  you  have  a right  to  rely  upon  me,”  and 
then  she  moistens  her  lips,  and  shows  a sense  of  relief. 

I trust  I have  kept  the  promise  I made  through  your 
servant,  that  I would  detain  you  a very  few  minutes. 
I need  trouble  you  no  longer,  Mr.  Twemlow.” 

Stay  ! ” says  Twemlow,  rising  as  she  rises.  Pardon 
me  a moment.  I should  never  have  sought  you  out, 
madam,  to  say  what  I am  going  to  say,  but  since  you 
have  sought  me  out  and  are  here,  I will  throw  it  off  my 
mind.  Was  it  quite  consistent,  in  candour,  with  our 
taking  that  resolution  against  Mr.  Fledgeby,  that  you 
should  afterwards  address  Mr.  Fledgeby  as  your  dear 
and  confidential  friend,  and  entreat  a favour  of  Mr. 
Fledgeby  ? Always  supposing  that  you  did  ; I assert 
no  knowledge  of  my  own  on  the  subject ; it  has  been 
represented  to  me  that  you  did.” 

Then  he  told  you  ? ” retorts  Mrs.  Lammle,  who  again 
has  saved  her  eyes  while  listening,  and  uses  them  with 
strong  effect  while  speaking. 

^Wes.” 

'Ht  is  strange  that  he  should  have  told  you  the  truth,” 
says  Mrs.  Lammle,  seriously  pondering.  Pray  where 
did  a circumstance  so  very  extraordinary  happen  ? ” 
Twemlow  hesitates.  He  is  shorter  than  the  lady  as 
well  as  weaker,  and,  as  she  stands  above  him  with  her 
hardened  manner  and  her  well-used  eyes,  he  finds  him- 
self at  such  a disadvantage  that  he  would  like  to  be  of 
the  opposite  sex. 

May  I ask  where  it  happened,  Mr.  Twemlow  ? In 
strict  confidence  ? ” 


21G 


OUR  MUTUAL  URIENI). 


'^1  must  confess/’ says  the  mild  little  gentleman^ 
coming  to  his  answer  by  degrees,  ‘^that  I felt  some 
compunctions  when  Mr.  Fledgeby  mentioned  it. 
I must  admit  that  I could  not  regard  myself  in  an 
agreeable  light.  More  particularly,  as  Mr.  Fledgeby 
did,  with  great  civility,  which  I could  not  feel  that  I 
deserved  from  him,  render  me  the  same  service  that 
you  had  entreated  him  to  render  you.” 

It  is  a part  of  the  true  nobility  of  the  poor  gentle- 
man’s soul  to  say  this  last  sentence.  Otherwise,”  he 
has  reflected,  shall  assume  the  superior  position  of 
having  no  difficulties  of  my  own,  while  I know  of  hers. 
Which  would  be  mean,  very  mean.” 

Was  Mr.  Fledgeby’s  advocacy  as  effectual  in  your 
case  as  in  ours  ? ” Mrs.  Lammle  demands. 

As  ^effectual.” 

'^Can  you  make  up  your  mind  to  tell  me  where  you 
saw  Mr.  Fledgeby,  Mr.  Twemlow  ? ” 

'‘1  beg  your  pardon.  I fully  intended  to  have  done 
so.  The  reservation  was  not  intentional.  I encountered 
Mr.  Fledgeby,  quite  by  accident,  on  the-spot.  By  the 
expression,  on  the  spot,  I mean  at  Mr.  Riah’s,  in  Saint 
Mary  Axe.” 

^^Have  you  the  misfortune  to  be  in  Mr.  Riah’s  hands, 
then  ? ” 

^'Unfortunately,  madam,”  returns  Twemlow,  "the 
one  money-obligation  to  which  I stand  committed,  the 
one  debt  of  my  life  (but  it  is  a just  debt ; pray  observe 
that  I don’t  dispute  it),  has  fallen  into  Mr.  Riah’s 
hands.” 

" Mr.  Twemlow,”  says  Mrs.  Lammle,  fixing  his  eyes 
with  hers:  which  he  would  prevent  her  doing  if  he 
could,  but  he  can’t;  "it  has  fallen  into  Mr.  Fledgeby’s 
hands.  Mr.  Riah  is  his  mask.  It  has  fallen  into  Mr. 
Fledgeby’s  hands.  Let  me  tell  you  that  for  your  guid- 
ance. The  information  may  be  of  use  to  you,  if  only  to 
prevent  your  credulity,  in  judging  another  man’s  truth- 
fulness by  your  own,  from  being  imposed  upon.” 

"Impossible!”  cries  Twemlow,  standing  aghast. 
" How  do  you  know  it  ? ” 

" I scarcely  know  how  I know  it.  The  whole  train  of 
circumstances  seemed  to  take  Are  at  once  and  show  it 
to  me.” 

"Oh  1 Then  you  have  no  proof?  ” 


A SOCIAL  CHORUS. 


217 


It  is  very  strange/’  says  Mrs.  Lammle,  coldly  and 
boldly,  and  with  some  disdain,  ^^how  like  men  are  to 
one  another  in  some  things,  though  their  characters  are 
as  different  as  can  be  ! No  two  men  can  have  less 
affinity  between  them,  one  would  say,  than  Mr.  Twem- 
low  and  my  husband.  Yet  my  husband  replies  to  me 
‘ You  have  no  proof,’  and  Mr.  Twemlow  replies  to  me 
with  the  very  same  words.” 

But  why,  madam,”  Twemlow  ventures  gently  to 
argue,  Consider  why  the  very  same  words  ? Because 
they  state  the  fact.  Because  you  have  no  proof.” 

^^Men  are  very  wise  in  their  way,”  quoth  Mrs.  Lammle, 
glancing  haughtily  at  the  Snigsworth  portrait,  and  shak- 
ing out  her  dress  before  departing  ; but  they  have  wis- 
dom to  learn.  My  husband,  who  is  not  over-confiding, 
ingenuous,  or  inexperienced,  sees  this  plain  thing  no 
more  than  Mr.  Twemlow  does — because  there  is  no  proof ! 
Yet  I believe  five  women  out  of  six,  in  my  place,  would 
see  it  as  clearly  as  I do.  However,  I will  never  rest  (if 
only  in  remembrance  of  Mr.  Fledgeby’s  having  kissed 
my  hand)  until  my  husband  does  see  it.  And  you  will 
do  well  for  yourself  to  see  it  from  this  time  forth,  Mr. 
Twemlow,  though  I can  give  you  no  proof.” 

As  she  moves  towards  the  door,  Mr.  Twemlow,  at- 
tending on  her,  expresses  his  soothing  hope  that  the 
condition  of  Mr.  Lammle’s  affairs  is  not  irretrievable. 

don’t  know,”  Mrs.  Lammle  answers,  stopping,  and 
sketching  out  the  pattern  of  the  paper  on  the  wall  with 
the  point  of  her  parasol ; ^Ht  depends.  There  may  be 
an  opening  for  him  dawning  now,  or  there  may  be  none. 
We  shall  soon  find  out.  If  none,  we  are  bankrupt 
here,  and  must  go  abroad,  I suppose.” 

Mr.  Twemlow,  in  his  good-natured  desire  to  make 
the  best  of  it,  remarks  that  there  are  pleasant  lives 
abroad. 

Yes,”  returns  Mrs.  Lammle,  still  sketching  on  the 
wall ; but  I doubt  whether  billiard-playing,  card-play- 
ing, and  so  forth,  for  the  means  to  live  under  suspicion 
at  a dirty  table-d’hote,  is  one  of  them.” 

It  is  much  for  Mr.  Lammle,  Twemlow  politely  inti- 
mates (though  greatly  shocked),  to  have  one  always  be- 
side him  who  is  attached  to  him  in  all  his  fortunes,  and 
whose  restraining  influence  will  prevent  him  from 
courses  that  would  be  discreditable  and  ruinous.  As 


218 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


he  says  it,  Mrs.  Lammle  leaves  off  sketching,  and  looks 
at  him. 

'^Restraining  influence,  Mr.  Twemlow  ? We  must 
eat  and  drink,  and  dress,  and  have  a roof  over  our 
heads.  Always  beside  him  and  attached  in  all  his 
fortunes  ? Not  much  to  boast  of  in  that ; what  can  a 
woman  at  my  age  do  ? My  husband  and  I deceived  one 
another  when  we  married  ; we  must  bear  the  conse- 
quences of  the  deception — that  is  to  say,  bear  one  an- 
other, and  bear  the  burden  of  scheming  together  for 
to-day’s  dinner  and  to-morrow’s  breakfast — till  death 
divorces  us.” 

With  those  words  she  walks  out  into  Duke  Street, 
Saint  James’s.  Mr.  Twemlow  returning  to  his  sofa, 
lays  down  his  aching  head  on  its  slippery  little  horse- 
hair bolster,  with  a strong  internal  conviction  that  a 
painful  interview  is  not  the  kind  of  thing  to  be  taken 
after  the  dinner  pills  which  are  so  highly  salutary  in 
connection  with  the  pleasures  of  the  table. 

But,  six  o’clock  in  the  evening  finds  the  worthy  little 
gentleman  getting  better,  and  also  getting  himself  into 
his  obsolete  little  silk  stockings  and  pumps,  for  the 
wondering  dinner  at  the  Veneerings.  And  seven 
o’clock  in  the  evening  finds  him  trotting  out  into  Duke 
Street,  to  trot  to  the  corner  and  save  a sixpence  in 
coach  hire. 

Tippins  the  divine  has  dined  herself  into  such  a con- 
dition by  this  time,  that  a morbid  mind  might  desire 
her,  for  a blessed  change,  to  sup  at  last,  and  turn  into 
bed.  Such  a mind  has  Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn,  whom 
Twemlow  finds  contemplating  Tippins  with  the  moodiest 
of  visages,  while  that  playful  creature  rallies  him  on 
being  so  long  overdue  at  the  woolsack.  Skittish  is  Tip- 
pins with  Mortimer  Lightwood  too,  and  has  raps  to 
give  him  with  her  fan  for  having  been  best  man  at  the 
nuptials  of  these  deceiving  what’s-their-names  who 
have  gone  to  pieces.  Though,  indeed,  the  fan  is  gen- 
erally lively,  and  taps  away  at  the  men  in  all  directions, 
with  something  of  a grisly  sound  suggestive  of  the 
clattering  of  Lady  Tippins’s  bones. 

A new  race  of  intimate  friends  has  sprung  up  at 
Veneerings  since  he  went  into  Parliament  for  the  pub-  • 
lie  good,  to  whom  Mrs.  Veneering  is  very  attentive. 
These  friends,  like  astronomical  distances,  are  only  to 


A SOCIAL  CHORUS. 


219 


be  spoken  of  in  the  very  largest  figures.  Boots  says 
that  one  of  them  is  a Contractor  who  (it  has  been  cal- 
culated) gives  employment,  directly  and  indirectly,  to 
five  hundred  thousand  men.  Brewer  says  that  another 
of  them  is  a Chairman,  in  such  request  at  so  many 
Boards,  so  far  apart,  that  he  never  travels  less  by  rail- 
way than  three  thousand  miles  a week.  Buffer  says 
that  another  of  them  hadn’t  a sixpence  eighteen  months 
ago  and,  through  the  brilliancy  of  his  genius  in  get- 
ting those  shares  issued  at  eighty-five,  and  buying  them 
all  up  with  no  money  and  selling  them  at  par  for  cash, 
has  now  three  hundred  and  seventy-five  thousand 
pounds — Buffer  particularly  insisting  on  the  odd  seventy- 
five,  and  declining  to  take  a farthing  less.  With  Buf- 
fer, Boots,  and  Brewer,  Lady  Tippins  is  eminently 
facetious  on  the  subject  of  these  Fathers  of  the  Scrip- 
Church  : surveying  them  through  her  eyeglass,  and  in- 
quiring whether  Boots  and  Brewer  and  Buffer  think  they 
will  make  her  fortune  if  she  makes  love  to  them  ? with 
other  pleasantries  of  that  nature.  Veneering,  in  his 
different  way,  is  much  occupied  with  the  Fathers  too, 
piously  retiring  with  them  into  the  conservatory,  from 
which  retreat  the  word  Committee”  is  occasionally, 
heard,  and  where  the  Fathers  instruct  Veneering  how 
he  must  leave  the  valley  of  the  piano  on  his  left,  take 
the  level  of  the  mantelpiece,  cross  by  an  open  cutting 
at  the  candelabra,  seize  the  carrying  traffic  at  the  con- 
sole, and  cut  up  the  opposition  root  and  branch  at  the 
window  curtains. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Podsnap  are  of  the  company,  and  the 
Fathers  descry  in  Mrs.  Podsnap  a fine  woman.  She  is 
consigned  to  a Father — Boots’s  Father,  who  employs  five 
hundred  thousand  men — and  is  brought  to  anchor  on 
Veneering’s  left;  thus  affording  opportunity  to  the 
sportive  Tippins,  on  his  right  (he,  as  usual,  being  mere 
vacant  space),  to  entreat  to  be  told  something  about 
those  loves  of  Navvies,  and  whether  they  really  do  live 
on  raw  beefsteaks,  and  drink  porter  out  of  their  bar- 
rows.  But,  in  spite  of  such  little  skirmishes  it  is  felt 
that  this  was  to  be  a wondering  dinner,  and  that  the 
wondering  must  not  be  neglected.  Accordingly,  Brewer, 
as  the  man  who  has  the  greatest  reputation  to 
sustain,  becomes  the  interpreter  of  the  general 
instinct. 


220 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


I took/’  says  Brewer  in  a favourable  pause,  ^^a  cab 
this  morning,  and  I rattled  off  to  that  Sale.” 

Boots  (devoured  by  envy)  says,  ^^So  did  I.” 

Buffer  says,  ^^So  did  I;”  but  can  find  nobody  to  care 
whether  he  did  or  not. 

^^And  what  was  it  like?”  inquired  Veneering. 

I assure  you,”  replies  Brewer,  looking  about  for 
anybody  else  to  address  his  answer  to,  and  giving  the 
preference  to  Lightwood;  I assure  you,  the  things 
were  going  for  a song.  Handsome  things  enough,  but 
fetching  nothing.” 

'^So  I heard  this  afternoon,”  says  Lightwood. 

Brewer  begs  to  know  now,  Would  it  be  fair  to  ask  a 
professional  man  how — on — earth — these — people — ever 
— did — come — to — such — a — total  smash  ?”  (Brewer’s 
divisions  being  for  emphasis.) 

Lightwood  replies  that  he  was  consulted  certainly, 
but  could  give  no  opinion  which  would  pay  off  the  Bill 
of  Sale,  and  therefore  violates  no  confidence  in  suppos- 
ing that  it  came  of  their  living  beyond  their  means. 

''  But  how,”  says  Veneering,  can  people  do  that?” 

Hah!  That  is  felt  on  all  hands  to  be  a shot  in  the 
bull’s  eye.  How  can  people  do  that?  The  Analytical 
Chemist  going  round  with  champagne,  looks  very  much 
as  if  he  could  give  them  a pretty  good  idea  how  people 
did  that,  if  he  had  a mind. 

How,”  says  Mrs.  Veneering,  laying  down  her  fork  to 
press  her  aquiline  hands  together  at  the  tips  of  the 
fingers,  and  addressing  the  Father  who  travels  the 
three  thousand  miles  per  week:  ^^howa  mother  can 
look  at  her  baby,  and  know  that  she  lives  beyond  her 
husband’s  means,  I cannot  imagine.”  • 

Eugene  suggests  that  Mrs.  Lammle,  not  being  a 
mother,  had  no  baby  to  look  at. 

True,”  says  Mrs.  Veneering,  ^^but  the  principle  is 
the  same.” 

Boots  is  clear  that  the  principle  is  the  same.  So  is 
Buffer.  It  is  the  unfortunate  destiny  of  Buffer  to  dam- 
age a cause  by  espousing  it.  The  rest  of  the  company 
have  meekly  yielded  to  the  proposition  that  the  prin- 
ciple is  the  same,  until  Buffer  says  it  is;  when  instantly 
a general  murmur  arises  that  the  principle  is  not  the 
same. 

^'But  I don’t  understand,”  says  the  Father  of  the 


A SOCIi^L  CHORUSo 


221 


three  hundred  and  seventy-five  thousand  pounds,  — if 
these  people  spoken  of,  occupied  the  position  of  being 
in  society — they  were  in  society?” 

Veneering  is  bound  to  confess  that  they  dined  here, 
and  were  even  married  from  here. 

Then  I don’t  understand,”  pursues  the  Father, 

how  even  their  living  beyond  their  means  could  bring 
them  to  what  has  been  termed  a total  smash.  Because, 
there  is  always  such  a thing  as  an  adjustment  of  affairs, 
in  the  case  of  people  of  any  standing  at  all.” 

Eugene  (who  would  seem  to  be  in  a gloomy  state  of 
suggestiveness),  suggests,  Suppose  you  have  no  means 
and  live  beyond  them?” 

This  is  too  insolvent  a state  of  things  for  the  Father 
to  entertain.  It  is  too  insolvent  a state  of  things  for 
any  one  with  any  self-respect  to  entertain,  and  is  uni- 
versally scouted.  But,  it  is  so  amazing  how  any 
people  can  have  come  to  a total  smash,  that  everybody 
feels  bound  to  account  for  it  specially.  One  of  the 
Fathers  says,  Gaming  table.”  Another  of  the  Fathers 
says,  Speculated  without  knowing  that  speculation  is 
a science.”  Boots  says  ''Horses.”  Lady  Tippins  says 
to  her  fan,  "Two  establishments.”  Mr.  Pod  snap,  say- 
ing nothing,  is  referred  to  for  his  opinion;  which  he 
delivers  as  follows ; much  flushed  and  extremely 
angry: 

" Don’t  ask  me.  I desire  to  take  no  part  in  the  dis- 
cussion of  these  people’s  affairs.  I abhor  the  subject. 
It  is  an  odious  subject,  an  offensive  subject,  a subject 
that  makes  me  sick,  and  I ” And,  with  his  favour- 

ite right-arm  flourish  which  sweeps  away  everything 
and  settles  it  for  ever,  Mr.  Podsnap  sweeps  these  incon- 
veniently unexplainable  wretches  who  have  lived  be- 
yond their  means  and  gone  to  total  smash,  off  the  face 
of  the  universe. 

Eugene,  leaning  back  in  his  chair,  is  observing  Mr. 
Podsnap  with  an  irreverent  face,  and  may  be  about  to 
offer  a new  suggestion,  when  the  Analytical  is  beheld 
in  collision  with  the  Coachman;  the  Coachman  mani- 
festing a purpose  oncoming  at  the  company  with  a 
silver  salver,  as  thou^  intent  upon  making  a collec- 
tion for  his  wife  and  family;  the  Analytical  cutting 
him  off  at  the  sideboard.  The  superior  stateliness,  if 
not  the  superior  generalship,  of  the  Analytical  prevails 


222 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


over  a man  who  is  as  nothing  off  the  box  ; and  the 
Coachman,  yielding  up  his  salver,  retires  defeated. 

Then,  the  Analytical,  perusing  a scrap  of  paper  lying 
on  the  salver,  with  the  air  of  a literary  Censor,  adjusts 
it,  takes  his  time  about  going  to  the  table  with  it,  and 
presents  it  to  Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn.  Whereupon  the 
pleasant  Tippins  says  aloud,  ^^  The  Lord  Chancellor  has 
resigned!’’ 

With  distracting  coolness  and  slowness — for  he 
knows  the  curiosity  of  the  Charmer  to  be  always  de- 
vouring— Eugene  makes  a pretence  of  getting  out  an 
eyeglass,  polishing  it,  and  reading  the  paper  with  diffi- 
culty, long  after  he  has  seen  what  is  written  on  it. 
What  is  written  on  it  in  wet  ink,  is: 

' ^ Y oung  Blight.  ” 

Waiting?”  says  Eugene  over  his  shoulder,  in  con- 
fidence, with  the  Analytical. 

‘^Waiting,”  returns  the  Analytical  in  responsive  con- 
fidence. Eugene  looks  Excuse  me,”  towards  Mrs. 
Veneering,  goes  out,  and  finds  Young  Blight,  Morti- 
mer’s clerk,  at  the  hall  door. 

‘‘Yon  told  me  to  bring  him,  sir,  to  wherever  you  was, 
if  he  come  while  you  was  out  and  I was  in,”  says  that 
discreet  young  gentleman,  standing  on  tiptoe  to  whisper; 
^^and  I’ve  brought  him.” 

Sharp  boy.  Where  is?”  asks  Eugene. 

He’s  in  a cab,  sir,  at  the  door.  I thought  it  best  not 
to  show  him,  you  see,  if  it  could  be  helped;  for  he’s 
a shaking  all  over,  like — ” Blight’s  smile  is  perhaps  in- 
spired by  the  surrounding  dishes  of  sweets — ^^like  Glue 
Monge.” 

Sharp  boy  again,”  returns  Eugene.  ^^I’ll  go  to 
him.” 

Goes  out  straightway,  and,  leisurely  leaning  his  arms 
on  the  open  window  of  a cab  in  waiting,  looks  in  at  Mr. 
Dolls:  who  has  brought  his  own  atmosphere  with  him, 
and  would  seem  from  its  odour  to  have  brought  it,  for 
convenience  of  carriage,  in  a rum-cask. 

‘^Now  Dolls,  wake  up!” 

‘ ^ Mist  W rayburn  ? Drection.  Fifteen  shillings ! ” 

After  carefully  reading  the  IPlngy  scrap  of  paper 
handed  to  him,  and  as  carefully  tucking  it  into  his 
waistcoat  pocket,  Eugene  tells  out  the  money;  begin- 
ning incautiously  by  telling  the  first  shilling  into  Mr. 


A SOCIAL  CHORUS. 


223 


Doll’s  hand,  which  instantly  jerks  it  out  of  window; 
and  ending  by  telling  the  fifteen  shillings  on  the  seat. 

“ Give  him  a ride  back  to  Charing  Cross,  sharp  boy, 
and  there  get  rid  of  him.” 

Returning  to  the  dining-room,  and  pausing  for  an  in- 
stant behind  the  screen  of  the  door,  Eugene  overhears, 
above  the  hum  and  clatter,  the  fair  Tippins  saying ; 
“ I am  dying  to  ask  him  what  he  was  called  out  for  ! ” 

“Are  you?”  mutters  Eugene;  “then  perhaps  if  you 
can’t  ask  him,  you’ll  die.  So  I’ll  be  a benefactor  to  so- 
ciety, and  go.  A stroll  and  a cigar,  and  I can  think 
this  over.  Think  this  over.”  Thus,  with  a thoughtful 
face,  he  finds  his  hat  and  cloak,  unseen  of  the  Ana- 
lytical, and  goes  his  way. 


THE  END  OF  THE  THIRD  BOOK. 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


O')  4. 


BOOK  THE  FOURTH.  A TURNHSTG. 


CHAPTER  I. 

SETTING  TRAPS. 

PL  ASH  WATER  Weir-Mill  Lock  looked  tranquil  and 
pretty  on  an  evening  in  the  summer  time.  A soft 
air  stirred  the  leaves  of  the  fresh  green  trees,  and  passed 
like  a smooth  shadow  over  the  river,  and  like  a 
smoother  shadow  over  the  yielding  grass.  The  voice  of 
the  falling  water,  like  the  voices  of  the  sea  and  the 
wind,  were  as  an  outer  memory  to  a contemplative 
listener;  but  not  particularly  so  to  Mr.  Riderhood,  who 
sat  on  one  of  the  blunt  wooden  levers  of  his  lock-gates, 
dozing.  Wine  must  be  got  into  a butt  by  some  agency 
before  it  can  be  drawn  out;  and  the  wine  of  sentiment 
never  having  been  got  into  Mr.  Riderhood  by  any 
agency,  nothing  in  nature  tapped  him. 

As  the  Rogue  sat,  ever  and  again  nodding  himself  off 
his  balance,  his  recovery  was  always  attended  by  an 
angry  stare  and  growl,  as  if,  in  the  absence  of  any  one 
else,  he  had  aggressive  inclinations  towards  himself. 
In  one  of  these  starts  the  cry  of  Lock,  ho  ! Lock 
prevented  his  relapse  into  a doze.  Shaking  himself  as 
he  got  up,  like  the  surly  brute  he  was,  he  gave  his 
growl  a responsive  twist  at  the  end,  and  turned  his  face 
down-stream  to  see  who  hailed. 

It  was  an  amateur-sculler,  well  up  to  his  work  though 
taking  it  easily,  in  so  light  a boat  that  the  Rogue  re- 
marked: ^^A  little  less  on  you,  and  you’d  a’most  ha’ 
been  a Wagerbut;”  then  went  to  work  at  his  windlass 
handles  and  sluices,  to  let  the  sculler  in.  As  the  latter 
stood  in  his  boat,  holding  on  by  the  boat-hook  to  the 
woodwork  at  the  Lock  side,  waiting  for  the  gates  to 
open.  Rogue  Riderhood  recognised  his  T’other  Gov- 
ernor,” Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn;  who  was,  however,  too 
indifferent  or  too  much  engaged  to  recognise  him. 

The  creaking  lock-gates  opened  slowly,  and  tlie  light 


SETTING  TRAPS. 


225 


boat  passed  in  as  soon  as  there  was  room  enough  and 
the  creaking  Lock-gates  closed  upon  it^  and  it  floated 
low  down  in  the  dock  between  the  two  sets  of  gates, 
until  the  water  should  rise  and  the  second  gates  should 
open  and  let  it  out.  When  Riderhood  had  run  to  his 
second  windlass  and  turned  it,  and  while  he  leaned 
against  the  lever  of  that  gate  to  help  it  to  swing  open 
presently,  he  noticed,  lying  to  rest  under  the  green 
hedge  by  the  towing-path  astern  of  the  Lock,  a Barge- 
man. 

The  water  rose  and  rose  as  the  sluice  poured  in,  dis- 
persing the  scum  which  had  formed  behind  the  lumber- 
ing gates,  and  sending  the  boat  up,  so  that  the  sculler 
gradually  rose  like  an  apparition  against  the  light  from 
the  bargeman’s  point  of  view.  Riderhood  observed 
that  the  bargeman  rose  too,  leaning  on  bis  arm,  and 
seemed  to  have  his  eyes  fastened  on  the  rising  figure. 

But,  there  was  the  toll  to  be  taken,  as  the  gates  were 
now  complaining  and  opening,  The  T’other  Governor 
tossed  it  ashore,  twisted  in  a piece  t)f  paper,  and  as  he 
did  so,  knew  his  man. 

''Ay,  Ay?  It’s  you,  is  it,  honest  friend?”  said 
Eugene,  seating  himself  preparatory  to  resuming  his 
sculls.  "You  got  the  place,  then?” 

" I got  the  place,  and  no  thanks  to  you  for  it,  nor  yet 
none  to  Lawyer  Lightwood,”  gruffly  answered  Rider- 
hood. 

"We  saved  our  recommendation,  honest  fellow,” 
said  Eugene,  " for  the  next  candidate — the  one  who 
will  offer  himself  when  you  are  transported  or  hanged. 
Don’t  be  long  about  it;  will  you  be  so  good?” 

So  imperturbable  was  the  air  with  which  he  gravely 
bent  to  his  work  that  Riderhood  remained  staring  at 
him,  without  having  found  a retort,  until  he  had  rowed 
past  a line  of  wooden  objects  by  the  weir,  which  showed 
like  huge  teetotums  standing  at  rest  in  the  water,  and 
was  almost  hidden  by  the  drooping  boughs  on  the  left 
bank,  as  he  rowed  away  keeping  out  of  the  opposing 
current.  It  being  then  too  late  to  retort  with  any  effect 
— if  that  could  ever  have  been  done — the  honest  man 
confined  himself  to  cursing  and  growling  in  a grim 
under-tone.  Having  then  got  his  gates  shut,  he  crossed 
back  by  his  plank  Lock-bridge  to  the  towing-path  side 
of  the  river. 

VOL.  IL 


15 


OtJR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


226 

If,  in  so  doing,  he  took  another  glance  at  the  barge- 
man, he  did  it  by  stealth.  He  cast  himself  on  the 
grass  by  the  Lock  side,  in  an  indolent  way,  with  his 
back  in  that  direction,  and,  having  gathered  a few 
blades,  fell  to  chewing  them.  The  dip  of  Eugene  Wray- 
burn’s  sculls  had  become  hardly  audible  in  his  ears 
when  the  bargeman  passed  him,  putting  the  utmost 
width  that  he  could  between  them,  and  keeping  under 
the  hedge.  Then  Riderhood  sat  up  and  took  a long 
look  at  his  figure,  and  then  cried:  Hi — i — i!  Lock,  ho! 
Lock!  Plash  water  Weir-Mill  Lock!” 

The  bargeman  stopped,  and  looked  back. 

Plash  water  Weir-Mill  Lock,  Uotherest  Gov — or — nor 
— or — or — or!”  cried  Mr.  Riderhood,  with  his  hands  to 
his  mouth. 

The  bargeman  turned  back.  Approaching  nearer  and 
nearer,  the  bargeman  became  Bradley  Headstone,  in 
rough  water-side  second-hand  clothing. 

Wish  I may  die,”  said  Riderhood,  smiting  his  right 
leg,  and  laughing,  as  he  sat  on  the  grass,  'Gf  you  ain’t 
ha’  been  a imitating  me,  T’otherest  Governor!  Never 
thought  myself  so  good-looking  afore!” 

Truly,  Bradley  Headstone  had  taken  careful  note  of 
the  honest  man’s  dress  in  the  course  of  that  night-walk 
they  had  had  together.  He  must  have  committed  it  to 
memory,  and  slowly  got  it  by  heart.  It  was  exactly  re- 
produced in  the  dress  he  now  wore.  And  whereas,  in 
his  own  schoolmaster  clothes,  he  usually  looked  as  if 
they  were  the  clothes  of  some  other  man,  he  now  looked, 
in  the  clothes  of  some  other  man  or  men,  as  if  they 
were  his  own. 

This  your  Lock  ?”  said  Bradley,  whose  surprise  had 
a genuine  air:  ^'they  told  me,  where  I last  inquired, 
it  was  the  third  I should  come  to.  This  is  only  the 
second.” 

'Ht’s  my  belief.  Governor,”  returned  Riderhood,  with 
a wink  and  shake  of  his  head,  ^Ghat  you’ve  dropped 
one  in  your  counting.  It  ain’t  Locks  as  youWe  been  giv- 
ing your  mind  to.  No,  no!” 

As  he  expressively  jerked  his  pointing  finger  in  the 
direction  the  boat  had  taken,  a fiush  of  impatience 
mounted  into  Bradley’s  face,  and  he  looked  anxiously 
up  the  river. 

It  ain’t  Locks  as  you\^  been  a reckoning  up,”  said 


SETTING  TEAPS.  227 

Riderhood  when  the  schoolmaster’s  eyes  came  back 
again.  ‘‘No,  no!” 

What  other  calculations  do  you  suppose  I have  been 
occupied  with  ? Mathematics  ? ” 

I never  heerd  it  called  that.  It’s  a long  word  for  it. 
Hows’ever,  p’raps  you  call  it  so,”  said  Riderhood,  stub- 
bornly chewing  his  grass. 

^at.  What?” 

''I’ll  say  them  instead  of  it,  if  you  like,”  was  the 
coolly-growled  reply.  " It’s  safer  talk,  too.” 

"What  do  you  mean  that  I should  understand  by 
them?” 

" Spites,  affronts,  offences  giv’  and  took,  deadly  aggra- 
wations,  such  like,”  answered  Riderhood. 

Do  what  Bradley  Headstone  would,  he  could  not  keep 
that  former  flush  of  impatience  out  of  his  face,  or  so 
master  his  eyes  as  to  prevent  their  again  looking  anx- 
iously up  the  river. 

'*Ha,  ha!  Don’t  be  afeerd,  T’otherest,”  said  Rider- 
hood. ' ' The  T’other’s  got  to  make  way  agin  the  stream, 
and  he  takes  it  easy.  You  can  soon  come  up  with  him. 
But  wot’s  the  good  of  saying  that  to  you?  You  know 
how  fur  you  could  have  outwalked  him  betwixt  any- 
wheres about  where  he  lost  the  tide — say  Richmond — 
and  this,  if  you  had  had  a mind  to  it.” 

'•You  think  I have  been  following  him?  ” said  Bradley. 

"I  KNOW  you  have,”  said  Riderhood. 

"Well!  I have,  I have,”  Bradley  admitted.  "But,” 
with  another  anxious  look  up  the  river,  "he  may  land.” 

"Easy  you!  He  won’t  be  lost  if  he  does  land,”  said 
Riderhood.  " He  must  leave  his  boat  behind  him.  He 
can’t  make  a bundle  or  a parcel  on  it,  and  carry  it 
ashore  with  him  under  his  arm.” 

"He  was  speaking  to  you  just  now,”  said  Bradley, 
kneeling  on  one  knee  on  the  grass  beside  the  Lock- 
keeper.  "What  did  he  say.” 

"Cheek,”  said  Riderhood. 

"What?” 

"Cheek,”  repeated  Riderhood,  with  an  angry  oath, 
"cheek  is  what  he  said.  He  can’t  say  nothing  but 
cheek.  I’d  ha’  liked  to  plump  down  aboard  of  him, 
neck  and  crop,  with  a heavy  jump,  and  sunk  him.” 

Bradley  turned  away  his  haggard  face  for  a few 
moments,  and  then  said,  tearing  up  a tuft  of  grass: 


228 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Damn  him! 

Hooroar ! cried  Riderhood.  Does  you  credit!  Hoo- 
roar!  I cry  chorus  to  the  T’otherest.’’ 

What  turn/’  said  Bradley,  with  an  effort  of  self -re- 
pression that  forced  him  to  wipe  his  face,  did  his  inso- 
lence take  to-day?” 

It  took  the  turn,”  answered  Riderhood,  with  sullen 
ferocity,  ^^of  hoping  as  I was  getting  ready  to  be 
hanged.” 

Let  him  look  to  that,”  cried  Bradley.  ‘^Let  him 
look  to  that!  It  will  be  bad  for  him  when  men  he  has 
injured,  and  at  whom  he  has  jeered,  are  thinking  of 
getting  hanged.  Let  him  get  ready  for  his  fate,  when 
that  comes  about.  There  was  more  meaning  in  what 
he  said  than  he  knew  of,  or  he  wouldn’t  have  had  brains 
enough  to  say  it.  Let  him  look  to  it;  let  him  look  to  it! 
When  men  he  has  wronged,  and  on  whom  he  has  be- 
stowed his  insolence,  are  getting  ready  to  be  hanged, 
there  is  a death-bell  ringing.  And  not  for  them.” 

Riderhood,  looking  fixedly  at  him,  gradually  arose 
from  his  recumbent  posture  while  the  schoolmaster  said 
these  words  with  the  utmost  concentration  of  rage  and 
hatred.  So,  when  the  words  were  all  spoken,  he  too 
kneeled  on  one  knee  on  the  grass,  and  the  two  men 
looked  at  one  another. 

^^Oh!”  said  Riderhood,  very  deliberately  spitting  out 
the  grass  he  had  been  chewing.  Then,  I make  out, 
T’otherest,  as  he  is  a-going  to  her?” 

He  left  London,”  answered  Bradley,  yesterday.  I 
have  hardly  a doubt,  this  time,  that  at  last  he  is  going 
to  her.” 

‘Wou  ain’t  sure,  then?” 

‘‘1  am  as  sure  here,”  said  Bradley,  with  a clutch  at 
the  breast  of  his  coarse  shirt,  ^^as  if  it  was  written 
there;”  with  a blow  or  a stab  at  the  sky. 

Ah!  But,  judging  from  the  looks  on  you,”  retorted 
Riderhood,  completely  ridding  himself  of  his  grass,  and 
drawing  his  sleeve  across  his  mouth,  you’ve  made 
ekally  sure  afore,  and  have  got  disappinted.  It  has  told 
upon  you.” 

Listen,”  said  Bradley,  in  a low-  voice,  bending  for- 
ward to  lay  his  hand  upon  the  Lock-keeper’s  shoulder. 

These  are  my  holidays.” 

^^Are  they,  by  George!”  muttered  Riderhood,  with 


SETTING  TRAPS. 


229 


liis  eyes  on  the  passion-wasted  face.  ^^Your  working 
days  must  be  stiff 'uns,  if  these  is  your  holidays.’’ 

‘‘And  I have  never  left  him,”  pursued  Bradley,  waving 
the  interruption  aside  with  an  impatient  hand,  “since 
they  began.  And  I never  will  leave  him  now,  till  I 
have  seen  him  with  her.” 

“And  when  you  have  seen  him  with  her?”  said  Ri- 
derhood.  ^ 

“ — I’ll  come  back  to  you.” 

Riderhood  stiffened  the  knee  on  which  he  had  been 
resting,  got  up,  and  looked  gloomily  at  his  new  friend. 
After  a few  moments  they  walked  side  by  side  in  the 
direction  the  boat  had  taken,  as  if  by  tacit  consent ; 
Bradley  pressing  forward,  and  Riderhood  holding 
back  ; Bradley  getting  out  his  neat  prim  purse  into  his 
hand  (a  present  made  him  by  penny  subscription  among 
his  pupils)  ; and  Riderhood,  unfolding  his  arms  to 
smear  his  coat-cuff  across  his  mouth  with  a thought- 
ful air. 

“ I have  a pound  for  you,”  said  Bradley. 

“You’ve  two,”  said  Riderhood. 

Bradley  held  a sovereign  between  his  fingers.  Slouch- 
ing at  his  side,  with  his  eyes  upon  the  towing-path, 
Riderhood  held  his  left  hand  open,  with  a certain  slight 
drawing  action  towards  himself.  Bradley  dipped  in  his 
purse  for  another  sovereign,  and  two  chinked  in  Rider- 
hood’s  hand,  the  drawing  action  of  which,  promptly 
strengthening,  drew  them  home  to  his  pocket. 

“Now,  I must  follow  him,”  said  Bradley  Headstone. 
“ He  takes  this  river  road — the  fool! — to  confuse  obser- 
vation, or  divert  attention,  if  not  solely  to  baffle  me. 
But  he  must  have  the  power  of  making  himself  invisible 
before  he  can  shake  Me  off.” 

Riderhood  stopped.  “ If  you  don’t  get  disappinted 
again,  T’otherest,  maybe  you’ll  put  up  at  the  Lock-house 
when  you  come  back  ? ” 

“ I will.” 

Riderhood  nodded,  and  the  figure  of  the  bargeman 
went  its  way  along  the  soft  turf  by  the  side  of  the  tow- 
ing-path, keeping  near  the  hedge,  and  moving  quickly. 
They  had  turned  a point  from  which  a long  stretch  of 
river  was  visible.  A stranger  to  the  scene  might  have 
been  certain  that  here  and  there  along  the  line  of  hedge 
a figure  stood,  watching  the  bargeman,  and  waiting  for 


S30 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


him  to  come  up.  So  he  himself  had  often  believed  at 
first,  until  his  eyes  became  used  to  the  posts,  bearing 
the  dagger  that  slew  Wat  Tyler,  in  the  City  of  London 
shield. 

Within  Mr.  Riderhood’s  knowledge  all  daggers  were 
as  one.  Even  to  Bradley  Headstone,  who  could  have 
told  to  the  letter,  without  book,  all  about  Wat  Tyler, 
Lord  Mayor  Walworth,  and  the  King,  that  it  is  dutiful 
for  youth  to  know,  there  was  but  one  subject  living  in 
the  world  for  every  sharp  destructive  instrument  that 
summer  evening.  So,  Riderhood  looking  after  him  as 
he  went,  and  he  with  his  furtive  hand  laid  upon  the 
dagger  as  he  passed  it,  and  his  eyes  upon  the  boat,  were 
much  upon  a par. 

The  boat  went  on,  under  the  arching  trees,  and  over 
their  tranquil  shadows  in  the  water.  The  bargeman 
skulking  on  the  opposite  bank  of  the  stream,  went 
on  after  it.  Sparkles  of  light  showed  Riderhood 
when  and  where  the  rower  dipped  his  blades,  until, 
even  as  he  stood  idly  watching,  the  sun  went  down  and 
the  landscape  was  dyed  red.  And  then  the  red  had  the 
appearance  of  fading  out  of  it  and  mounting  up  to 
Heaven,  as  we  say  that  blood,  guiltily  shed,  does. 

Turning  back  towards  his  Lock  (he  had  not  gone  out 
of  view  of  it),  the  Rogue  pondered  as  deeply  as  it  was 
within  the  contracted  power  of  such  a fellow  to  do. 

Why  did  he  copy  my  clothes  ? He  could  have  looked 
like  what  he  wanted  to  look  like,  without  that.”  This 
was  the  subject-matter  in  his  thoughts ; in  which,  too, 
there  came  lumbering  up,  by  times,  like  any  half-float- 
ing  and  half -sinking  rubbish  in  the  river,  the  question, 
Was  it  done  by  accident  ? The  setting  of  a trap  for 
finding  out  whether  it  was  accidentally  done,  soon  su- 
perseded, as  a practical  piece  of  cunning,  the  abstruser 
inquiry  why  otherwise  it  was  done.  And  he  devised  a 
means. 

Rogue  Riderhood  went  into  his  Lock-house,  and 
brought  forth,  into  the  now  sober  grey  light,  his  chest 
of  clothes.  Sitting  on  the  grass  beside  it,  he  turned 
out,  one  by  one,  the  articles  it  contained,  until  he  came 
to  a conspicuous  bright  red  neckerchief  stained  black 
here  and  there  by  wear.  It  arrested  his  attention,  and 
he  sat  pausing  over  it,  until  he  took  off  the  rusty 
colourless  wisp  that  he  wore  round  his  throat,  and  sub- 


SETTING  TRAPS. 


231 


stituted  the  red  neckerchief,  leaving  the  long  ends  flow- 
ing. ^^Now/’  said  the  Rogue,  ^^if  arter  he  sees  me  in 
this  neckhankecher,  I see  him  in  a simdar  neckhanke- 
cher,  it  won’t  be  accident ! ” Elated  by  his  device,  he 
carried  his  chest  in  again,  and  went  to  supper. 

^^Lock  ho!  Lock!”  It  was  a light  night,  and  a 
barge  coming  down  summoned  him  out  of  a long  doze. 
In  due  course  he  had  let  the  barge  through  and  was 
alone  again,  looking  to  the  closing  of  his  gates,  when 
Bradley  Headstone  appeared  before  him,  standing  on 
the  brink  of  the  Lock. 

Halloa  I”  said Riderhood.  Back  a’  ready,  T’other- 
est?” 

He  has  put  up  for  the  night  at  an  Angler’s  Inn,”  was 
the  fatigued  and  hoarse  reply.  ^'He  goes  on,  up  the 
river,  at  six  in  the  morning.  I have  come  back  for  a 
couple  of  hours’  rest.” 

'^You  want  ’em,”  said  Riderhood,  making  towards 
the  schoolmaster  by  his  plank  bridge. 

‘‘1  don’t  want  them,”  returned  Bradley,  irritably, 
''because  I would  rather  not  have  them,  but  would 
much  prefer  to  follow  him  all  night.  However,  if  he 
won’t  lead,  I can’t  follow.  I have  been  waiting  about, 
until  I could  discove!*,  for  a certainty,  at  what  time  he 
starts:  if  I couldn’t  have  made  sure  of  it,  I should  have 
stayed  there. — This  would  be  a bad  pit  for  a man  to  be 
flung  into  with  his  hands  tied.  These  slippery  smooth 
walls  would  give  him  no  chance.  And  I suppose  those 
gates  would  suck  him  down?” 

" Suck  him  down,  or  s waller  him  up,  he  wouldn’t  get 
out,”  said  Riderhood.  "Not  even  if  his  hands  warn’t 
tied,  he  wouldn’t.  Shut  him  in  at  both  ends,  and  I’d 
give  him  a pint  o’  old  ale  ever  to  come  up  to  me  stand- 
ing here.” 

Bradley  looked  down  with  a ghastly  relish.  "You 
run  about  the  brink,  and  run  across  it,  in  this  uncertain 
light,  on  a few  inches’  width  of  rotten  wood,”  said  he. 
" I wonder  you  have  no  thought  of  being  drowned.” 

" I can’t  be,”  said  Riderhood. 

"You  can’t  be  drowned?  ” 

"No!”  said  Riderhood,  shaking  his  head  with  an  air 
of  thorough  conviction,  "it’s  well  known.  I’ve  been 
brought  out  o’  drowning,  and  I can’t  be  drowned.  I 
wouldn’t  have- that  there  busted  B’lowbridger  aware  on 


232 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


it,  or  her  people  might  make  it  tell  agin’  the  damages  I 
mean  to  get.  But  it’s  well  known  to  water-side  char- 
acters like  myself,  that  him  as  has  been  brought  out  o’ 
drowning,  can  never  be  drowned.” 

Bradley  smiled  sourly  at  the  ignorance  he  would  have 
corrected  in  one  of  his  pupils,  and  continued  to  look 
down  into  the  water,  as  if  the  place  had  a gloomy  fasci- 
nation for  him. 

You  seem  to  like  it,”  said  Riderhood. 

He  took  no  notice,  but  stood  looking  down,  as  if  he 
had  not  heard  the  words.  There  was  a very  dark  ex- 
pression on  his  face;  an  expression  that  the  Rogue  found 
it  hard  to  understand.  It  was  fierce,  and  full  of  pur- 
pose; but  the  purpose  might  have  been  as  much  against 
himself  as  against  another.  If  he  had  stepped  back  for 
a spring,  taken  a leap,  and  thrown  himself  in,  it  would 
have  been  no  surprising  sequel  to  the  look.  Perhaps 
his  troubled  soul,  set  upon  some  violence,  did  hover  for 
the  moment  between  that  violence  and  another. 

'' Didn’t  you  say,”  asked  Riderhood,  after  watching 
him  for  a while  with  a sidelong  glance,  ‘^as  you  had 
come  back  for  a couple  o’  hours’  rest  ?”  But,  even  then 
he  had  to  jog  him  with  his  elbow  before  he  answered. 

^^Eh?  Yes.” 

Hadn’t  you  better  come  in  and  take  your  couple  o’ 
hours’  rest  ? ” 

Thank  you.  Yes.” 

With  the  look  of  one  just  awakened,  he  followed 
Riderhood  into  the  Lock-house,  where  the  latter  pro- 
duced from  a cup-board  some  cold  salt  beef  and  half  a 
loaf,  some  gin  in  a bottle,  and  some  water  in  a jug.  The 
last  he  brought  in,  cool  and  dripping,  from  the  river. 

There,  T’otherest,”  said  Riderhood,  stooping  over 
him  to  put  it  on  the  table.  You’d  better  take  a bite 
and  a sup,  afore  you  takes  your  snooze.”  The  draggling 
ends  of  the  red  neckerchief  caught  the  schoolmaster’s 
eyes.  Riderhood  saw  him  look  at  it. 

Oh  ! ” thought  that  worthy.  ^Wou’re  a-taking 
notice,  are  you  ? Come  ! You  shall  have  a good  squint 
at  it  then.”  With  which  refiection  he  sat  down  on  the 
other  side  of  the  table,  threw  open  his  vest,  and  made 
a pretence  of  re-tying  the  neckerchief  with  much  de- 
liberation. 

Bradley  ate  and  drank.  As  he  sat  at  his  platter  and 


IN  THE  LOCK-KEEPEH’S  HOUSE. 


Our  Mutual  Friend. 


SETTING  TRAPS. 


233 


mug,  Riderhood  saw  him,  again  and  yet  again,  steal  a 
look  at  the  neckerchief,  as  if  he  were  correcting  his 
slow  observation  and  prompting  his  sluggish  memory. 

When  you’re  ready  for  your  snooze  ? ” said  that  honest 
creature,  ‘ ^ chuck  yourself  on  my  bed  in  the  corner, 
T’otherest.  It’ll  be  broad  day  afore  three.  I’ll  call  you 
early.’’ 

^^I  shall  require  no  calling,”  answered  Bradley.  And 
soon  afterwards,  divesting  himself  only  of  his  shoes 
and  coat,  laid  himself  down. 

Riderhood  leaning  back  in  his  wooden  arm-chair  with 
his  arms  folded  on  his  breast,  looked  at  him  lying  with 
his  right  hand  clenched  in  his  sleep  and  his  teeth  set, 
until  a film  came  over  his  own  sight,  and  he  slept  too. 
He  awoke  to  find  that  it  was  daylight,  and  that  his 
visitor  was  already  astir,  and  going  out  to  the  river- 
side to  cool  his  head: — Though  I’m  blest,”  muttered 
Riderhood  at  the  Lock-house  door,  looking  aftel*  him, 
'Gf  I think  there’s  water  enough  in  all  the  Thames  to 
do  that  for  you  ! ” Within  five  minutes  he  had  taken 
his  departure,  and  was  passing  on  into  the  calm  distance 
as  he  had  passed  yesterday.  Riderhood  knew  when  a 
fish  leaped  by  his  starting  and  glancing  round. 

Lock  ho!  Lock!”  at  intervals  all  day,  and  ^^Lock 
ho!  Lock!”  thrice  in  the  ensuing  night,  but  no  return 
of  Bradley.  The  second  day  was  sultry  and  oppressive. 
In  the  afternoon,  a thunderstorm  came  up,  and  had  but 
newly  broken  into  a furious  sweep  of  rain  when  he 
rushed  in  at  the  door,  like  the  storm  itself. 

^‘You’ve  seen  him  with  her!”  exclaimed  Riderhood, 
starting  up. 

I have.” 

Where?” 

At  his  journey’s  end.  His  boat’s  hauled  up  for 
three  days.  I heard  him  give  the  order.  Then,  I saw 
him  wait  for  her  and  meet  her.  I saw  them  ” — he 
stopped  as  though  he  were  suffocating,  and  began 
again — saw  them  walking  side  by  side,  last  night.” 

What  did  you  do?” 

Nothing.” 

What  are  you  going  to  do?” 

He  dropped  into  a chair,  and  laughed.  Immediately 
afterwards,  a great  spirt  of  blood  burst  from  his  nose. 

How  does  that  happen?”  asked  Riderhood. 


234 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


don’t  know.  I can’t  keep  it  back.  It  has  hap- 
pened twice — three  times — four  times — I don’t  know 
how  many  times — since  last  night.  I taste  it,  smell  it, 
see  it,  it  chokes  me,  and  then  it  breaks  out  like  this.” 

He  went  into  the  pelting  rain  again  with  his  head 
bare,  and,  bending  low  over  the  river,  and  scooping  up 
the  water  with  his  two  hands,  washed  the  blood  away. 
All  beyond  his  figure,  as  Riderhood  looked  from  the 
door,  was  a vast  dark  curtain  in  solemn  movement  to- 
wards one  quarter  of  the  heavens.  He  raised  his  head 
and  came  back,  wet  from  head  to  foot,  but  with  the 
lower  part  of  his  sleeves,  where  he  had  dipped  into  the 
river,  streaming  water. 

Your  face  is  like  a ghost’s,”  said  Riderhood. 

Did  you  ever  see  a ghost?”  was  the  sullen  retort. 

I mean  to  say  you’re  quite  wore  out.” 

That  may  well  be.  I have  had  no  rest  since  I left 
here.  * I don’t  remember  that  I have  so  much  as  sat 
down  since  I left  here.” 

Lie  down  now,  then,”  said  Riderhood. 
will  if  you’ll  give*  me  something  to  quench  my 
thirst  first.” 

The  bottle  and  jug  were  again  produced,  and  he  mixed 
a weak  draught,  and  another,  and  drank  both  in  quick 
succession.  ''You  asked  me  something,”  he  said  then. 

"No,  I didn’t,”  replied  Riderhood. 

" I tell  you,”  retorted  Bradley,  turning  upon  him  in  a 
wild  and  desperate  manner,  "you  asked  me  something 
before  I went  out  to  wash  my  face  in  the  river.” 

"Oh!  Then?”  said  Riderhood,  backing  a little,  "I 
asked  you  wot  you  wos  a-going  to  do?” 

" How  can  a man  in  this  state  know?”  he  answered, 
protesting  with  both  his  tremulous  hands,  with  an  action 
so  vigourously  angry  that  he  shook  the  water  from  his 
sleeves  upon  the  fioor,  as  if  he  had  wrung  them.  " How 
can  Dplan  anything  if  I haven’t  sleep?” 

"Why,  that’s  what  I as  good  as  said,”  returned  the 
other.  " Didn’t  I say  lie  down?” 

"Well,  perhaps  you  did.” 

"Well  ! Anyways  I says  it  again.  Sleep  where  you 
slept  last;  the  sounder  and  longer  you  can  sleep,  the 
better  you’ll  know  arterwards  what  you’re  up  to.” 

His  pointing  to  the  truckle  bed  in  the  corner  seemed 
gradually  to  bring  that  poor  couch  to  Bradley’s  wander- 


SETTING  TRAPS. 


235 


ing  remembrance.  He  slipped  off  his  worn  down-trod- 
den shoes,  and  cast  himself  heavily,  all  wet  as  he  was, 
upon  the  bed. 

Riderhood  sat  down  in  his  wooden  arm-chair,  and 
looked  through  the  window  at  the  lightning,  and  lis- 
tened to  the  thunder.  But,  his  thoughts  were  far  from 
being  absorbed  by  the  thunder  and  the  lightning,  for 
again  and  again  and  again  he  looked  very  curiously  at 
the  exhausted  man  upon  the  bed.  The  man  had  turned 
up  the  collar  of  the  rough  coat  he  wore,  to  shelter  him- 
self from  the  storm,  and  had  buttoned  it  about  his  neck. 
Unconscious  of  that,  and  of  most  things,  he  had  left  the 
coat  so,  both  when  he  had  laved  his  face  in  the  river, 
and  when  he  had  cast  himself  upon  the  bed  ; though 
it  would  have  been  much  easier  to  him  if  he  had  un- 
loosened it. 

The  thunder  rolled  heavily,  and  the  forked  lightning 
seemed  to  make  jagged  rents  in  every  part  of  the  vast 
curtain  without,  as  Riderhood  sat  by  the  window,  glanc- 
ing at  the  bed.  Sometimes  he  saw  the  man  upon  the 
bed  by  a red  light;  sometimes  by  a blue;  sometimes 
he  scarcely  saw  him  in  the  darkness  of  the  storm; 
sometimes  he  saw  nothing  of  him  in  the  blinding  glare 
of  palpitating  white  fire.  Anon,  the  rain  would  come 
again  with  a tremendous  rush,  and  the  river  would 
seem  to  rise  to  meet  it,  and  a blast  of  wind,  bursting 
upon  the  door,  would  flutter  the  hair  and  dress  of  the 
man,  as  if  invisible  messengers  were  come  around  the 
bed  to  carry  him  away.  From  all  these  phases  of  the 
storm,  Riderhood  would  turn,  as  if  they  were  interrup- 
tions— rather  striking  interruptions,  possibly,  but  inter- 
ruptions still — of  his  scrutiny  of  the  sleeper. 

He  sleeps  sound,”  he  said  within  himself;  yet  he’s 
that  up  to  me  and  that  noticing  of  me  that  my  getting 
out  of  my  chair  may  wake  him,  when  a rattling  peal 
won’t;  let  alone  my  touching  of  him.” 

He  very  cautiously  rose  to  his  feet.  T’otherest,”  he 
said,  in  a low,  calm  voice,  ‘ ^ are  you  a lying  easy  ? There’s 
a chill  in  the  air,  governor.  Shall  I put  a coat  over 
you  ? ” 

No  answer. 

That’s  about  what  it  is  a’ready,  you  see,”  muttered 
Riderhood  in  a lower  and  a different  voice;  a coat  over 
you,  a coat  over  you!  ” 


236 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


The  sleeper  moving  an  arm,  he  sat  down  again  in  his 
chair,  and  feigned  to  watch  the  storm  from  the  window. 
It  was  a grand  spectacle,  but  not  so  grand  as  to  keep 
his  eyes,  for  half  a minute  together,  from  stealing  a 
look  at  the  man  upon  the  bed. 

It  was  at  the  concealed  throat  of  the  sleeper  that 
Riderhood  so  often  looked  so  curiously,  until  the  sleep 
seemed  to  deepen  into  the  stupor  of  the  dead-tired  in 
mind  and  body.  Then  Riderhood  came  from  the  window 
cautiously,  and  stood  by  the  bed. 

^^Poor  man!”  he  murmured  in  a low  tone,  with  a 
crafty  face,  and  a very  watchful  eye  and  ready  foot, 
lest  he  should  start  up;  '^this  here  coat  of  his  must 
make  him  uneasy  in  his  sleep.  Shall  I loosen  it  for 
him,  and  make  him  more  comfortable?  Ah!  I think  I 
ought  to  it,  poor  man.  I think  I will.” 

He  touched  the  first  button  with  a very  cautious 
hand,  and  a step  backward.  But,  the  sleeper  remaining 
in  profound  unconsciousness,  he  touched  the  other 
buttons  with  a more  assured  hand,  and  perhaps  the 
more  lightly  on  that  account.  Softly  and  slowly,  he 
opened  the  coat  and  drew  it  back. 

The  draggling  ends  of  a bright-red  neckerchief  were 
then  disclosed,  and  he  had  even  been  at  the  pains  of 
dipping  parts  of  it  in  some  liquid,  to  give  it  the  appear- 
ance of  having  become  stained  by  wear.  With  a much- 
perplexed  face,  Riderhood  looked  from  it  to  the  sleeper, 
and  from  the  sleeper  to  it,  and  finally  crept  back  to  his 
chair,  and  there,  with  his  hand  to  his  chin,  sat  long  in 
a brown  study,  looking  at  both. 


CHAPTER  II. 

* 

THE  GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  RISES  A LITTLE. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lammle  had  come  to  breakfast  with  Mr. 

and  Mrs.  Boffin.  They  were  not  absolutely  unin- 
vited, but  had  pressed  themselves  with  so  much  urgency 
on  the  golden  couple,  that  evasion  of  the  honour  and 
pleasure  of  their  company  would  have  been  difficult,  if 


GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  RISES  A LITTLE.  237 


desired.  They  were  in  a charming  state  of  ^rnind,  were 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lammle,  and  almost  as  fond  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Boffin  as  of  one  another.  ^ 

''My  dear  Mrs.  Boffin/’  said  Mrs.  Lammle,  "it  im^ 
parts  new  life  to  me  to  see  my  Alfred  in  confidential 
communication  with  Mr.  Boffin.  The  two  were  formed 
to  become  intimate.  So  much  simplicity  combined  with 
so  much  force  of  character,  such  natural  sagacity  united 
to  such  amiability  and  gentleness — these  are  the  dis- 
tinguishing characteristics  of  both.” 

This,  being  said  aloud,  gave  Mr.  Lammle  an  oppor- 
tunity, as  he  came  with  Mr.  Boffin  from  the  window  to 
the  breakfast-table,  of  taking  up  his  dear  and  honoured 
wife. 

"My  Sophronia,”  said  that  gentleman,  "your  too 
partial  estimate  of  your  poor  husband’s  character ” 

"No!  Not  too  partial,  Alfred,”  urged  the  lady,  ten- 
derly moved;  " never  say  that.” 

"My  child,  your  favourable  opinion,  then,  of  your 
husband — you  don’t  object  to  that  phrase,  darling?” 

" How  can  I,  Alfred?  ” 

"Your  favourable  opinion,  then,  my  Precious,  does 
less  than  justice  to  Mr.  Boffin,  and  more  than  justice 
to  me.” 

"To  the  first  charge,  Alfred,  I plead  guilty.  But  to 
the  second,  oh  no,  no  !” 

"Less  than  justice  to  Mr.  Boffin,  Sophronia,”  said 
Mr.  Lammle,  soaring  into  a tone  of  moral  grandeur , 
" because  it  represents  Mr.  Boffin  as  on  my  lower  level; 
more  than  justice  to  me,  Sophronia,  because  it  repre- 
sents me  as  on  Mr.  Boffin’s  higher  level.  Mr.  Boffin 
bears  and  forbears  far  more  than  I could.” 

"Far  more  than  you  could  for  yourself,  Alfred?” 

" My  love,  that  is  not  the  question.” 

"Not  the  question,  Lawyer?”  said  Mrs.  Lammle, 
archly. 

"No,  dear  Sophronia.  From  my  lower  level,  I regard 
Mr.  Boffin  as  too  generous,  as  possessed  of  too  much 
clemency,  as  being  too  good  to  persons  who  are  un- 
worthy of  him  and  ungrateful  to  him.  To  those  noble 
qualities  I can  lay  no  claim.  On  the  contrary,  they 
rouse  my  indignation  when  I see  them  in  action.” 

" Alfred  1 ” 

"They  rouse  my  indignation,  my  dear,  against  the 


238 


% OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


unworthy  p'^rsons,  and  give  me  a combative  desire  to 
stand  between  Mr.  Boffin  and  all  such  persons.  Why? 
Because,  in  my  lower  nature  I am  more  worldly  and 
less  delicate.  Not  being  so  magnanimous  as  Mr.  Boffin, 
I feel  his  injuries  more  than  he  does  himself,  and  feel 
more  capable  of  opposing  his  injurers."' 

It  struck  Mrs.Lammle  that  it  appeared  rather  difficult 
this  morning  to  bring  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin  into  agreeable 
conversation.  Here  had  been  several  lures  thrown  out, 
and  neither  of  them  had  uttered  a word.  Here  were 
she,  Mrs.  Lammle,  and  her  husband  discoursing  at  once 
affectingly  and  effectively,  but  discoursing  alone.  As- 
suming that  the  dear  old  creatures  were  impressed  by 
what  they  heard,  still  one  would  like  to  be  sure  of  it, 
the  more  so,  as  at  least  one  of  the  dear  old  creatures 
was  somewhat  pointedly  referred  to.  If  the  dear  old 
creatures  were  too  bashful  or  too  dull  to  assume  their 
required  places  in  the  discussion,  why  then  it  would 
seem  desirable  that  the  dear  old  creatures  should  be 
taken  by  their  heads  and  shoulders  and  brought  into 
it. 

But  is  not  my  husband  saying,  in  effect,’’  asked  Mrs. 
Lammle,  therefore,  with  an  innocent  air,  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Boffin,  ^^that  he  becomes  unmindful  of  his  own 
temporary  misfortunes  in  his  admiration  of  another 
whom  he  is  burning  to  serve?  And  is  not  that  making 
an  admission  that  his  nature  is  a generous  one?  I am 
wretched  in  argument,  but  surely  this  is  so,  dear  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Boffin?” 

Still,  neither  Mr.  nor  Mrs.  Boffin  said  a word.  He  sat 
with  his  eyes  on  his  plate,  eating  his  muffins  and  ham, 
and  she  sat  shyly  looking  at  the  teapot.  Mrs.  Lammle’s 
innocent  appeal  was  merely  thrown  into  the  air,  to 
mingle  with  the  steam  of  the  urn.  Glancing  towards 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin,  she  very  slightly  raised  her  eye- 
brows, as  though  inquiring  of  her  husband  : ^^Do  I 
notice  anything  wrong  here  ? ” 

Mr.  Lammle,  who  had  found  his  chest  effective  on  a 
variety  of  occasions,  manoeuvred  his  capacious  shirt 
front  into  the  largest  demonstration  possible,  and  then 
smiling  retorted  on  his  wife,  thus : 

Sophronia,  darling,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin  will  remind 
you  of  the  old  adage,  that  self-praise  is  no  recommenda- 
tion.” 


GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  RISES^A  LITTLE.  239 


Self-praise,  Alfred  ? Do  you  mean  because  we  are 
one  and  the  same 

No,  my  dear  child.  I mean  that  you  cannot  fail  to 
remember,  if  you  reflect  for  a single  moment,  that  what 
you  are  pleased  to  compliment  me  upon  feeling  in  the 
case  of  Mr.  Boffin,  you  have  yourself  conflded  to  me  as 
your  own  feeling  in  the  case  of  Mrs.  Boffin.’’ 

shall  be  beaten  by  this  Lawyer,”  Mrs.-Lammle 
gaily  whispered  to  Mrs.  Boffin.  I am  afraid  I must 
admit  it,  if  he  presses  me,  for  it’s  damagingly  true.”) 

Several  white  dints  began  to  come  and  go  about  Mr. 
Lammle’s  nose,  as  he  observed  that  Mrs.  Boffin  merely 
looked  up  from  the  teapot  for  a moment  with  an  embar- 
rassed smile,  which  was  no  smile,  and  then  looked 
down  again. 

Do  you  admit  the  charge,  Sophronia?”  inquired 
Alfred,  in  a rallying  tone. 

''Really,  I think,”  said  Mrs.  Lammle,  still  gaily, 
"I  must  throw  myself  on  the  protection  of  the  Court. 
Am  I bound  to  answer  that  question,  my  Lord  ? ” To 
Mr.  Boffin. 

" You  needn’t,  if  you  don’t  like,  ma’am,”  was  his  an- 
swer. " It’s  not  of  the  least  consequence.” 

Both  husband  and  wife  glanced  at  him,  very  doubt- 
fully. His  manner  was  grave,  but  not  coarse,  and  de- 
rived some  dignity  from  a certain  repressed  dislike  of 
the  tone  of  the  conversation. 

Again  Mrs.  Lammle  raised  her  eyebrows  for  instruc- 
tion from  her  husband.  He  replied  in  a slight  nod, 
" Try  ’em  again.” 

" To  protect  myself  against  the  suspicion  of  covert 
self -laudation,  my  dear  Mrs.  Boffin,”  said  the  airy  Mrs. 
Lammle,  therefore,  " I must  tell  you  how  it  was.” 

" No,  Pray  don’t,”  Mr.  Boffin  interposed. 

Mrs.  Lammle  turned  to  him  laughingly.  " The  Court 
objects  ?”  • 

"Ma’am,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  "the  Court  (if  I am  the 
Court)  does  object.  The  Court  objects  for  two  reasons. 
First,  because  the  Court  don’t  think  it  fair.  Secondly, 
because  the  dear  old  lady,  Mrs.  Court  (if  I am  Mr.)  gets 
distressed  by  it.” 

A very  remarkable  wavering  between  two  bearings — 
between  her  propitiatory  bearing  there,  and  her  defiant 
bearing  at  Mr.  Twemlow’s — was  observable  on  the  part 


240  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

of  Mrs.  Lammle  as  she  said  : What  does  the  Court  not 
consider  fair  ? ’’ 

Letting  you  go  on/’  replied  Mr.  Boffin,  nodding  his 
head  soothingly,  as  who  should  say.  We  won’t  he 
harder  on  you  than  we  can  help  ; we’ll  make  the  best 
of  it.  It’s  not  above-board  and  it’s  not  fair.  When 
the  old  lady  is  uncomfortable,  there’s  sure  to  be  good 
reason  for  it.  I see  she  is  uncomfortable,  and  I plainly 
see  this  is  the  good  reason  wherefore.  Have  you  break- 
fasted, ma’am  ? ” 

Mrs.  Lammle,  settling  into  her  defiant  manner,  pushed 
her  plate  away,  looked  at  her  husband,  and  laughed ; 
but  by  no  means  gaily. 

^^Have  you  breakfasted,  sir  ?”  inquired  Mr.  Boffin. 

Thank  you,”  replied  Alfred,  showing  all  his  teeth. 

If  Mrs.  Boffin  will  oblige  me.  I’ll  take  another  cup  of 
tea.” 

He  spilled  a little  of  it  over  the  chest  which  ought  to 
have  been  so  effective,  and  which  had  done  so  little  ; 
but  on  the  whole  drank  it  with  something  of  an  air, 
though  the  coming  and  going  dints  got  almost  as  large, 
the  while,  as  if  they  had  been  made  by  pressure  of  the 
teaspoon.  ^^A  thousand  thanks,”  he  then  observed. 

I have  breakfasted.” 

^^Now,  which,”  said  Mr.  Boffin  softly,  taking  out  a 
pocketbook,  which  of  you  two  is  Cashier  ?” 

Sophronia,  my  dear,”  remarked  her  husband,  as  he 
leaned  back  in  his  chair,  waving  his  right  hand  to- 
wards her,  while  he  hung  his  left  hand  by  the  thumb 
in  the  arm-hole  of  his  waistcoat  : ^^it  shall  be  your  de- 
partment.” 

''I  would  rather,  said  Mr.  Boffin,  '^that  it  was  your 
husband’s,  ma’am,  because — but  never  mind,  because, 
I would  rather  have  to  do  with  him.  However,  what  I 
have  to  say,  I will  say  with  as  little  offence  as  possible; 
if  I can  say  it  without  any,  I shall  be  heartily  glad. 
You  two  have  done  me  a service,  a very  great  service, 
in  doing  what  you  did  (my  old  lady  knows  what  it 
was),  and  I have  put  into  this  envelope  a bank 
note  for  a hundred  pound.  I consider  the  service 
well  worth  a hundred  pound,  and  I am  well  pleased 
to  pay  the  money.  Would  you  do  me  the  favour  to 
take  it,  and  likewise  to  accept  my  thanks  ? ” 

With  a haughty  action,  and  without  looking  towards 


GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  RISES  A LITTLE.  241 


him^  Mrs.  Lammle  held  out  her  left  hand,  and  into  it 
Mr.  Boffin  put  the  little  packet.  When  she  had  con- 
ve^^ed  it  to  her  bosom,  Mr.  Lammle  had  the  appear- 
ance of  feeling  i^elieved,  and  breathing  more  freely, 
as  not  having  been  quite  certain  that  the  hundred 
pounds  were  his,  until  the  note  had  been  safely  trans- 
ferred out  of  Mr.  Boffin's  keeping  into  his  own 
Sophronia's. 

''It  is  not  impossible,"  said  Mr.  Boffin,  addressing 
Alfred,  ^‘  that  you  have  had  some  general  idea,  sir,  of 
replacing  Rokesmith,  in  course  of  time  ? " 

It  is  not,"  assented  Alfred,  with  a glittering  smile, 
and  a great  deal  of  nose,  not  impossible." 

And  perhaps,  ma'am,"  pursued  Mr.  Boffin,  address- 
ing Sophronia,  you  have  been  so  kind  as  to  take  up 
my  old  lady  in  your  own  mind,  and  do  her  the  honour 
of  turning  the  question  over  whether  you  mightn't  one 
of  these  days  have  her  in  charge,  like  ? Whether  you 
mightn't  be  a sort  of  Miss  Bella  Wilfer  to  her,  and 
something  more  ? " 

I should  hope, " returned  Mrs.  Lammle,  with  a 
scornful  look  and  in  a loud  voice,  ‘^that  if  I were 
anything  to  your  wife,  sir,  I could  hardly  fail  to  be 
something  more  than  Miss  Bella  Wilfer,  as  you  call 
her." 

What  do  you  call  her,  ma’am  ?"  asked  Mr.  Boffin. 

Mrs.  Lammle  disdained  to  reply,  and  sat  defiantly 
beating  one  foot  on  the  ground. 

Again  I think  I may  say,  that’s  not  impossible.  Is 
it,  sir  ? " asked  Mr.  Boffin,  turning  to  Alfred. 

^^It  is  not,"  said  Alfred,  smiling  assent  as  before, 
^^not  impossible." 

Now,"  said  Mr.  Boffin,  gently,  ^At  won't  do.  I don't 
wish  to  say  a single  word  that  might  be  afterwards 
remembered  as  unpleasant;  but  it  won't  do," 

Sophronia,  my  love,"  her  husband  repeated  in  a 
bantering  manner,  ^^you  hear?  It  won’t  do." 

'^No,"  said  Mr.  Boffin,  with  his  voice  still  dropped, 
^At  really  won't.  You  positively  must  excuse  us.  If 
you'll  go  your  way,  we'll  go  ours,  and  so  I hope  this 
affair  ends  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  parties." 

Mrs.  Lammle  gave  him  the  look  of  a decidedly  dis- 
satisfied party  demanding  exemption  from  the  category; 
but  said  nothing. 

^ VOL,  II. 


16 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


242 


The  best  thing  we  can  make  of  the  affair,”  said  Mr. 
BoflBn,  ^As  a matter  of  business,  and  as  a matter  of 
business  it’s  brought  to  a conclusion.  You  have  done 
me  a great  service,  a very  great  swvice,  and  I have 
paid  for  it.  Is  there  any  objection  to  the  price  ?” 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lammle  looked  at  one  another  across 
the  table,  but  neither  could  say  that  there  was.  Mr. 
Lammle  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  Mrs.  Lammle  sat 
rigid. 

‘^Very  good,”  said  Mr.  Boffin.  We  hope  (my  old 
lady  and  me)  that  you’ll  give  us  credit  for  taking  the 
plainest  and  honestest  short-cut  that  could  be  taken 
under  the  circumstances.  We  have  talked  it  over  with 
a deal  of  care  (my  old  lady  and  me),  and  we  have  felt 
that  at  all  to  lead  you  on,  or  even  at  all  to  let  you  go 
on  of  your  own  selves,  wouldn’t  be  the  right  thing.  So 
I have  openly  given  you  to  understand  that — ” Mr. 
Boffin  sought  for  a new  turn  of  speech,  hut  could  find 
none  so  expressive  as  his  former  one,  repeated  in  a 
confidential  tone,  '^that  it  won’t  do.  If  I could  have 
put  the  case  more  pleasantly  I would ; but  I hope  I 
haven’t  put  it  very  unpleasantly;  at  all  events  I haven’t 
meant  to.  So,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  by  way  of  peroration, 
^ ^wishing  you  well  in  the  way  you  go,  we  now  conclude 
with  the  observation  that  perhaps  you’ll  go  it.” 

Mr.  Lammle  rose  with  an  impudent  laugh  on  his  side 
of  the  table,  and  Mrs.  Lammle  rose  with  a disdainful 
frown  on  hers.  At  this  moment  a hasty  foot  was 
heard  on  the  staircase,  and  Georgiana  Podsnap  broke 
into  the  room,  unannounced  and  in  tears. 

Oh,  my  dear  Sophronia,”  cried  Georgiana,  wringing 
her  hands  as  she  ran  up  to  embrace  her,  to  think  that 
you  and  Alfred  should  be  ruined  I Oh,  my  poor  dear 
Sophronia,  to  think  that  you  should  have  had  a Sale  at 
your  house  after  all  your  kindness  to  me  ! Oh,  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Boffin,  pray  forgive  me  for  this  intrusion, 
but  you  don’t  know  how  fond  I was  of  Sophronia  when 
Pa  wouldn’t  let  me  go  there  any  more,  or  what  I have 
felt  for  Sophronia  since  I heard  from  Ma  of  her  having 
been  brought  low  in  the  world!  You  don’t,  you  can’t, 
you  never  can  think  how  I have  lain  awake  at  night 
and  cried  for  my  good  Sophronia,  my  first  and  only 
friend  ! ” 

Mrs.  Lammle’s  manner  changed  under  the  poor  silly 


GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  RISES  A LITTLE.  243 


girl’s  embraces,  and  she  turned  extremely  pale:  direct- 
ing one  appealing  look,  first  to  Mrs.  Boffin,  and  then  to 
Mr.  Boffin.  Both  understood  her  instantly,  with  a more 
delicate  subtlety  than  much  better  educated  people, 
whose  perception  came  less  directly  from  the  heart, 
could  have  brought  to  bear  upon  the  case. 

I haven’t  a minute,”  said  poor  little  Georgiana,  to 
stay.  I am  out  shopping  early  with  Ma,  and  I said  I 
had  a headache,  and  got  Ma  to  leave  me  outside  in  the 
phaeton,  in  Piccadilly,  and  ran  round  to  Sackville  Street, 
and  heard  that  Sophronia  was  here,  and  then  Ma  came 
to  see,  oh  such  a dreadful  old  stony  woman  from  the 
country  in  a turban  in  Portland  Place,  and  I said  I 
wouldn’t  go  up  with  Ma,  but  would  drive  round  and 
leave  cards  for  the  Boffins,  which  is  taking  a liberty 
with  the  name  ; but  oh,  my  goodness!  I am  distracted, 
and  the  phaeton’s  at  the  door,  and  what  would  Pa  say 
if  he  knew  it  ? ” 

Don’t  ye  be  timid,  my  dear,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin. 

You  came  in  to  see  us.” 

Oh  no  ! I didn’t,”  cried  Georgiana.  ^^It’s  very  im- 
polite, I know,  but  I came  to  see  my  poor  Sophronia, 
my  only  friend.  Oh  1 how  I felt  the  separation,  my 
dear  Sophronia,  before  I knew  you  were  brought  low  in 
the  world,  and  how  much  more  I feel  it  now  1 ” 

There  were  actually  tears  in  the  bold  woman’s  eyes, 
as  the  soft-headed  and  soft-hearted  girl  twined  her 
arms  about  her  neck. 

But  I’ve  come  on  business,”  said  Georgiana,  sobbing 
and  drying  her  face,  and  then  searching  in  a little  ret- 
icule, '^and  if  I don’t  despatch  it  I shall  have  come  for 
nothing,  and  oh  good  gracious  ! what  would  Pa  say  if 
he  knew  of  Sackville  Street,  and  what  would  Ma  say  if 
she  was  kept  waiting  on  the  doorsteps  of  that  dreadful 
turban,  and  there  never  were  such  pawing  horses  as 
ours  unsettling  my  mind  every  moment  more  and  more 
when  I want  more  mind  than  I have  got,  by  pawing  up 
Mr.  Boffin’s  street  where  they  have  no  business  to  be. 
Oh  ! where  is,  where  is  it  ? Oh  1 I can’t  find  it  I ” All 
this  time  sobbing,  and  searching  in  the  little  reticule. 

''What  do  you  miss,  my  dear?”  asked  Mr.  Boffin, 
stepping  forward. 

"Oh!  it’s  little  enough,”  replied  Georgiana,  "because 
Ma  always  treats  me  as  if  I was  in  the  nursery  (I  am 


2U 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


sure  I wish  I was!),  but  I hardly  ever  sgend  it  and  it  has 
mounted  up  to  fifteen  pounds,  Sophronia,  and  I hope 
three  five-pound  notes  are  better  than  nothing,  though 
so  little,  so  little  ! And  now  I have  found  that — oh,  my 
goodness  I there’s  the  other  gone  next!  Oh  no,  it  isn’t, 
hero  it  is.” 

With  that,  always  sobbing  and  searching  in  the  reti- 
cule, Georgiana  produced  a necklace. 

Ma  says  chits  and  jewels  have  no  business  together,” 
pursued  Georgiana,  and  that’s  the  reason  why  I have 
no  trinkets  except  this,  but  I suppose  my  aunt  Hawkin- 
son  was  of  a different  opinion,  because  she  left  me  this, 
though  I used  to  think  she  might  just  as  well  have 
buried  it,  for  it’s  always  kept  in  jeweller’s  cotton.  How- 
ever, here  it  is,  I am  thankful  to  say,  and  of  use,  at 
last,  and  you’ll  sell  it,  dear  Sophronia,  and  buy  things 
with  it.” 

''Give  it  to  me,”  said  Mr.  BoflBn,  gently  taking  it. 
"I’ll  see  that  it’s  properly  disposed  of.’' 

" Oh ! Are  you  such  a friend  of  Sophronia’s,  Mr. 
Boffin!”  cried  Georgiana.  "Oh,  how  good  of  you!  Oh, 
my  gracious!  there  was  something  else,  and  it’s  gone 
out  of  my  head  ! Oh  no,  it  isn’t,  I remember  what  it 
was!  My  grandmamma’s  property,  that’ll  come  to  me 
vrhen  I am  of  age,  Mr.  Boffin,  will  be  all  my  own,  and 
neither  Pa  nor  Ma  nor  anybody  else  will  have  any  con- 
trol over  it,  and  what  I wish  to  do  is  to  make  some  of  it 
over  somehow  to  Sophronia  and  Alfred,  by  signing 
something  somewhere  that’ll  prevail  on  somebody  to 
advance  them  something.  I want  them  to  have  some- 
thing handsome  to  bring  them  up  in  the  world  again. 
Oh,  my  goodness  me!  Being  such  a friend  of  my  dear 
Sophronia’s,  you  won’t  refuse  me,  will  you?’ 

" No,  no,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  " it  shall  be  seen  to.” 

" Oh,  thank  you,  thank  you!  ” cried  Georgiana.  " If 
my  maid  had  a little  note  and  half  a crown,  I could  run 
round  to  the  pastrycook’s  to  sign  something,  or  I could 
sign  something  in  the  Square  if  somebody  would  come 
and  cough  for  me  to  let  ’em  in  with  the  key,  and  would 
bring  a pen  and  ink  with  ’em  and  a bit  of  blotting- 
paper.  Oh,  my  gracious!  I must  tear  myself  away,  or 
Pa  and  Ma  will  both  find  out!  Dear,  dear  Sophronia, 
good,  good-bye!” 

The  credulous  little  creature  again  embraced  Mrs. 

I I 


GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  RISES  A LITTLE.  245 


Lammle  most  affectionately,  and  then  held  out  her 
hand  to  Mr.  Lammle. 

Good-bye,  dear  Mr.  Lammle — I mean  Alfred.  You 
won’t  think  after  to-day  that  I have  deserted  you  and 
Sophronia  because  you  have  been  brought  low  in  the 
world,  will  you?  Oh  me!  oh  me!  I have  been  crying 
eyes  out  of  my  head,  and  Ma  will  be  sure  to  ask  me 
what’s  the  matter.  Oh,  take  me  down,  somebody, 
please,  please,  please!” 

Mr.  Boffin  took  her  down,  and  saw  her  driven  away, 
with  her  poor  little  red  eyes  and  weak  chin  peering  over 
the  great  apron  of  the  custard-coloured  phaeton,  as  if 
she  had  been  ordered  to  expiate  some  childish  misde- 
meanour by  going  to  bed  in  the  daylight,  and  were 
peeping  over  the  counterpane  in  a miserable  flutter  of 
repentance  and  low  spirits.  Returning  to  the  breakfast- 
room,  he  found  Mr^.  Lammle  still  standing  on  her  side 
of  the  table,  and  Mr.  Lammle  on  his. 

^^I’ll  take  care,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  showing  the  money 
and  the  necklace,  that  these  are  soon  given 
back.” 

Mrs.  Lammle  had  taken  up  her  parasol  from  a side- 
table,  and  stood  sketching  with  it  on  the  pattern 
of  the  damask  cloth,  as  she  had  sketched  on  the  pattern 
of  Mr.  Twemlow’s  papered  wall.  i 

You  will  not  undeceive  her,  I hope,  Mr.  Boffin?” 
she  said,  turning  her  head  towards  him,  but  not  her 
eyes. 

No,”  said  Mr.  Boffin. 

^‘1  mean  as  to  the  worth  and  value  of  her  friend,” 
Mrs.  Lammle  explained  in  a measured  voice,  and  with 
an  emphasis  on  her  last  word. 

No,”  he  returned.  I may  try  to  give  a hint  at  her 
home  that  she  is  in  want  of  kind  and  careful  protection, 
but  I -shall  say  no  more  than  that  to  her  parents,  and  I 
shall  say  nothing  to  the  young  lady  herself.” 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin,”  said  Mrs.  Lammle,  still  sketch- 
ing and  seeming  to  bestow  great  pains  upon  it,  there 
are  not  many  people,  I think,,  who,  under  the  circum- 
stances, v/ould  have  been  so  considerate  and  sparing  as 
you  have  been  to  me  just  now.  Do  you  care  to  be 
thanked?” 

''  Thanks  are  always  worth  having,  ” said  Mrs.  Boffin, 
in  her  ready  good  nature. 


246 


OUK  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Then  thank  you  both.” 

Sophronia,”  asked  her  husband,  mockingly,  ^^are 
you  sentimental  ? ” 

‘"Well,  well,  my  good  sir,”  Mr.  Boffin  interposed, 

it’s  a very  good  thing  to  think  well  of  another  per- 
son, and  it’s  a very  good  thing  to  be  thought  well  of  by 
another  person.  Mrs.  Lammle  will  be  none  the  worse 
for  it,  if  she  is.” 

^^Much  obliged.  But  I asked  Mrs.  Lammle  if  she 
was.” 

She  stood  sketching  on  the  table-cloth,  with  her  face 
clouded  and  set,  and  was  silent. 

Because,”  said  Alfred,  '‘lam  disposed  to  be  senti- 
mental myself,  on  your  appropriation  of  the  jewels 
and  the  money,  Mr.  Boffin.  As  our  little  Georgiana 
said,  three  five-pound  notes  are  better  than  nothing,  and 
if  you  sell  a necklace  you  can  buy  things  with  the  pro- 
duce.” 

"//  you  sell  it,”  was  Mr.  Boffin’s  comment,  as  he  put 
it  in  his  pocket. 

Alfred  followed  it  with  hi§  looks,  and  also  greedily 
pursued  the  notes  until  they  vanished  into  Mr.  Boffin’s 
waistcoat  pocket.  Then  he  directed  a look,  half  exas- 
perated and  half  jeering,  at  his  wife.  She  still  stood 
sketching  ; but,  as  she  sketched,  there  was  a struggle 
within  her,  which  found  expression  in  the  depth  of  the 
few  last  lines  the  parasol  point  indented  into  the  table- 
cloth, and  then  some  tears  fell  from  her  eyes. 

"Why,  confound  the  woman,”  exclaimed  Lammle, 
"she  is  sentimental  P’ 

She  walked  to  the  window,  flinching  under  his  angry 
stare,  looked  out  for  a moment,  and  turned  round  quite 
coldly. 

"You  have  had  no  former  cause  of  complaint  on  the 
sentimental  score,  Alfred,  and  you  will  have  none  in 
future.  It  is  not  worth  your  noticing.  We  go  abroad 
soon,  with  the  money  we  have  earned  here  ? ” 

"You  know  we  do  ; you  know  we  must.” 

"There  is  no  fear  of  my  taking  any  sentiment  with 
me.  I should  soon  be  eased  of  it,  if  I did.  But  it  will  be 
all  left  behind.  It  is  all  left  behind.  Are  you  ready, 
Alfred  ? ” 

"What  the  deuce  have  I been  waiting  for  but  you, 
Sophronia  ? ” 


GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  RISES  A LITTLE. 


Let  us  go  then.  I am  sorry  I have  delayed  our  dig- 
nified departure.’’ 

She  passed  out  and  he  followed  her.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Boffin  had  the  curiosity  softly  to  raise  a window  and  look 
after  them  as  they  went  down  the  long  street.  They 
walked  arm-in-arm^  showily  enough,  but  without  appear- 
ing to  interchange  a syllable.  It  might  have  been  fanci- 
ful to  suppose  that  under  their  outer  bearing  there  was 
something  of  the  shamed  air  of  two  cheats  who 
were  linked  together  by  concealed  handcuffs ; but 
not  so  to  suppose  that  they  were  haggardly  weary  of 
one  another,  of  themselves,  and  of  all  of  this  world.  In 
turning  the  street  corner  they  might  have  turned  out  of 
this  world,  for  anything  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin  ever  saw 
of  them  to  the  contrary ; for  they  set  eyes  on  the 
Lammles  never  more. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  SINKS  AGAIN. 

The  evening  of  that  day  being  one  of  the  reading 
evenings  at  the  Bower,  Mr.  Boffin  kissed  Mrs.  Boffin 
after  a five  o’clock  dinner,  and  trotted  out,  nursing  his 
big  stick  in  both  arms,  so  that,  as  of  old,  it  seemed  to 
be  whispering  in  his  ear.  He  carried  so  very  attentive 
an  expression  on  his  countenance  that  it  appeared  as  if 
the  confidential  discourse  of  the  big  stick  required  to  be 
followed  closely.  Mr.  Boffin’s  face  was  like  the  face  of 
a thoughtful  listener  to  an  intricate  communication, 
and,  in  trotting  along,  he  occasionally  glanced  at  that 
companion  with  the  look  of  a man  who  was  interposing 
the  remark  : You  don’t  mean  it  !” 

Mr.  Boffin  and  his  stick  went  on  alone  together,  until 
they  arrived  at  certain  cross-ways  where  they  would  be 
likely  to  fall  in  with  any  one  coming,  at  about  the  same 
time,  from  Clerkenwell  to  the  Bower.  Here  they  stopped, 
and  Mr.  Boffin  consulted  his  watch. 

^^It  wants  five  minutes,  good,  to  Venus’s  appoint- 
ment,” said  he.  I’m  rather  early.” 


m 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


But  Venus  was  a punctual  man,  and,  even  as  Mr. 
Boffin  replaced  his  watch  in  his  pocket,  was  to  be  des- 
cried coming  towards  him.  He  quickened  his  pace  on 
seeing  Mr.  Boffin  already  at  the  place  of  meeting,  and 
was  soon  at  his  side. 

Thankee,  Venus,’’  said  Mr.  BoflSn.  '^Thankee, 
thankee,  thankee!” 

It  would  not  have  been  very  evident  why  he  thanked 
the  anatomist,  but  for  his  furnishing  the  explanation 
in  what  he  went  on  to  say. 

All  right,  Venus,  all  right.  Now  that  you’ve  been 
to  see  me,  and  have  consented  to  keep  up  the  appear- 
ance before  Wegg  of  remaining  in  it  for  a time,  I have 
got  a sort  of  a backer.  All  right,  Venus.  Thankee, 
Venus,  thankee,  thankee,  thankee!” 

Mr.  Venus  shook  the  proffered  hand  with  a modest 
air,  and  they  pursued  the  direction  of  the  Bower. 

Do  you  think  Wegg  is  likely  to  drop  down  upon  me 
to-night,  Venus?”  inquired  Mr.  Boffin,  wistfully,  as 
they  went  along.  , 

I think  he  is,  sir.” 

Have  you  any  particular  reason  for  thinking  so, 
Venus?” 

‘^^Well,  sir,”  returned  that  personage,  ^‘^the  fact  is, 
he  has  given  me  another  look-in,  to  make  sure  of  what 
he  calls  our  stock-in-trade  being  correct,  and  he  has 
mentioned  his  intention  that  he  was  not  to  be  put  off 
beginning  with  you  the  very  next  time  you  should 
come.  And  this,”  hinted  Mr.  Venus,  delicately,  being 
the  very  next  time,  you  know,  sir ” 

Why,  therefore  you  suppose  he’ll  turn  to  at  the 
grind-stone,  eh,  Venus?”  said  Mr.  Boffin. 

Just  so,  sir.” 

Mr.  Boffin  took  his  nose  in  his  hand,  as  if  it  were 
already  excoriated,  and  the  sparks  were  beginning  to 
fly  out  of  that  feature.  ^‘He’s  a terrible  fellow,  Venus; 
he’s  an  awful  fellow.  I don’t  know  how  ever  I shall  go 
through  with  it.  You  must  stand  by  me,  Venus,  like  a 
good  man  and  true.  You’ll  do  all  you  can  to  stand  by 
me,  Venus;  won’t  you?” 

Mr.  Venus  replied  with  the  assurance  that  he  would; 
and  Mr.  Boffin,  looking  anxious  and  dispirited,  pur- 
sued the  way  in  silence,  until  they  rang  at  the  Bower 
gate.  The  stumping  approach  of  Wegg  was  soon  heard 


THE  GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  SINKS  AGAIN.  249 


behind  it,  and  as  it  turned  upon  its  hinges  he  became 
visible  with  his  hand  on  the  lock. 

''Mr.  Boffin,  sir?’’  he  remarked.  ^'You’re  quite  a 
stranger!” 

Yes.  I’ve  been  otherwise  occupied,  Wegg.” 

Have  you  indeed,  sir?  ” returned  the  literary  gentle- 
man, with  a threatening  sneer.  ‘^Hah!  I’ve  been  look* 
ing  for  you,  sir,  rather  what  I may  call  specially.” 

You  don’t  say  so,  Wegg?” 

^Wes,  I do  say  so,  sir.  And  if  you  hadn’t  come  round 
to  me  to-night,  dash  my  wig  if  I wouldn’t  have  come 
round  to  you  to-morrow.  Now!  I tell  you!” 

^‘Nothing  wrong,  I hope,  Wegg?” 

Oh  no,  Mr.  Boffin  ! ” was  the  ironical  answer. 

Nothing  wrong!  What  should  be  wrong  in  Boffinses 
Bower  ? Step  in,  sir. 

‘ If  you’ll  come  to  the  Bower  I’ve  shaded  for  you. 

Your  bed  shan’t  be  roses  all  spangled  with  doo  : 

Will  you,  will  you,  will  you,  will  you,  come  to  the  Bower? 

Oh,  won’t  you,  won’t  you,  won’t  you,  won’t  you,  come  to  the  Bower?  ’ ” 

An  unholy  glare  of  contradiction  and  offence  shone 
in  the  eyes  of  Mr.  Wegg,  as  he  turned  the  key  on  his 
patron,  after  ushering  him  into  the  yard  with  this 
vocal  quotation.  Mr.  Boffin’s  air  was  crestfallen  and 
submissive.  Whispered  Wegg  to  Venus,  as  they 
crossed  the  yard  behind  him:  ‘‘  Look  at  the  worm  and 
minion;  he’s  down  in  the  mouth  already.”  Whispered 
Venus  to  Wegg;  That’s  because  I’ve  told  him.  I’ve 
prepared  the  way  for  you.” 

Mr.  Boffin,  entering  the  usual  chamber,  laid  his  stick 
upon  the  settle  usually  reserved  for  him,  thrust  his 
hands  into  his  pockets,  and,  with  his  shoulders  raised 
and  his  hat  drooping  back  upon  them,  looked  discon- 
solately at  Wegg.  My  friend  and  partner,  Mr.  Venus, 
gives  me  to  understand,”  remarked  that  man  of  might, 
addressing  him,  ^‘that  you  are  aware  of  our  power 
over  you.  Now,  when  you  have  took  your  hat  off, 
we’ll  go  into  that  pint.” 

‘^Mr.  Boffin  shook  it  off  with  one  shake,  so  that  it 
dropped  on  the  floor  behind  him,  and  remained  in  his 
former  attitude  with  his  former  rueful  look  upon  him. 

‘‘First  of  all,  I’m  a going  to  call  you  Boffin,  for 
short,”  said  Wegg.  “If  you  don’t  like  "it,  it’s  open  to 
you  to  lump  it.” 


250 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


don’t  mind  it,  Wegg,”  Mr.  Boffin  replied. 

That’s  lucky  for  you,  Boffin.  Now,  do  you  want  to 
be  read  to?  ” 

I don’t  particularly  care  about  it  to-night,  Wegg.” 

Because  if  you  did  want  to,”  pursued  Mr.  Wegg,  the 
brilliancy  of  whose  point  was  dimmed  by  his  having 
b^en  unexpectedly  answered:  you  wouldn’t  be.  I’ve 
been  your  slave  long  enough.  I’m  not  to  be  trampled 
under-foot  by  a dustman  any  more.  With  the  single 
exception  of  the  salary,  I renounce  the  whole  and  total 
sitiwation.” 

Since  you  say  it  is  to  be  so,  Wegg,”  returned  Mr. 
Boffin,  with  folded  hands,  suppose  it  must  be.” 

I suppose  it  must  be,”  Wegg  retorted.  ^^Next  (to 
clear  the  ground  before  coming  to  business),  you’ve 
placed  in  this  yard  a skulking,  a sneaking,  and  a 
sniffing  menial.” 

He  hadn’t  a cold  in  his  head  when  I sent  him  here,” 
said  Mr.  Boffin 

Boffin!”  retorted  Wegg,  warn  you  not  to  at- 
tempt a joke  with  me!” 

Here  Mr.  Venus  interposed,  and  remarked  that  he 
conceived  Mr.  Boffin  to  have  taken  the  description 
literally;  the  rather,  forasmuch  as  he,  Mr.  "Venus,  had 
himself  supposed  the  menial  to  have  contracted  an 
affliction  or  a habit  of  the  nose  involving  a serious  draw- 
back on  the  pleasures  of  social  intercourse,  until  he  had 
discovered  that  Mr.  W egg’s  description  of  him  was  to 
be  accepted  as  merely  figurative. 

‘^Any  how,  and  every  how,”  said  Wegg,  ^^he  has 
been  planted  here,  and  he  is  here.  Now,  I won’t  have 
him  here.  So  I call  upon  Boffin,  before  I say  another 
word,  to  fetch  him  in  and  send  him  packing  to  the 
right-about.” 

The  unsuspecting  Sloppy  was  at  that  moment  airing 
his  many  buttons  within  view  of  the  windov/.  Mr. 
Boffin,  after  a short  interval  of  impassive  discomfiture, 
opened  the  window  and  beckoned  him  to  come  in. 

call  upon  Boffin,”  said  Wegg,  with  one  arm 
akimbo  and  his  head  on  one  side,  like  a bullying  counsel 
pausing  for  an  answer  from  a witness,  ^^to  inform  that 
menial  that  I am  Master  here!” 

In  humble  obedience,  when  the  button-gleaming 
Sloppy  entered,  Mr.  Boffin  said  to  him;  '' Sloppy,  my 


THE  GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  giNKS  AGAIN.  251 


fine  fellow,  Mr.  Wegg  is  Master  here.  He  doesn’t  want 
you,  and  you  are  to  go  from  here.” 

For  good!  ” Mr.  Wegg  severely  stipulated. 

^^For  good,”  said  Mr.  Boffin. 

Sloppy  stared  with  both  his  eyes  and  all  his  buttons, 
and  his  mouth  wide  open  ; but  was  without  loss  of  time 
escorted  forth  by  Silas  Wegg,  pushed  out  at  the  yard 
gate  by  the  shoulders,  and  locked  out. 

^^The  atomspear,”  said  Wegg,  stumping  back  into 
the  room  again,  a little  reddened  by  his  late  exertion, 
‘^is  now  freer  for  the  purposes  of  respiration.  Mr. 
Venus,  sir,  take  a chair.  Boffin,  you  may  sit  down.” 

Mr.  Boffin,  still  with  his  hands  ruefully  stuck  in  his 
pockets,  sat  on  the  edge  of  the  settle,  shrunk  into  a 
small  compass,  and  eyed  the  potent  Silas  with  concil- 
iatory looks. 

‘^^This  gentleman,”  said  Silas  Wegg,  pointing  out 
Venus,  ^“^this  gentleman.  Boffin,  is  more-milk-and 
watery  with  you  than  I’ll  be.  But  he  hasn’t  borne  the 
Roman  yoke  as  I have,  nor  yet  he  hasn’t  been  required 
to  pander  to  your  depraved  appetite  for  miserly  char- 
acters.” 

never  meant,  my  dear  Wegg — ” Mr.  Boffin  was 
beginning,  when  Silas  stopped  him. 

‘'Hold  your  tongue.  Boffin!  Answer  when  you’re 
called  upon  to  answer.  You’ll  find  you’ve  gcft  quite 
enough  to  do.  Now,  you’re  aware — are  you — that  you’re 
in  possession  of  property  to  which  you’ve  no  right  at 
all  ? Are  ydu  aware  of  that  ? ” 

“Venus  tells  me  so,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  glancing  towards 
him  for  any  support  he  could  give. 

“J  tell  you  so,”  returned  Silas.  “Now,  here’s  my 
hat.  Boffin,  and  here’s  my  walking-stick.  Trifle  with 
me,  and  instead  of  making  a bargain  with  you.  I’ll  put 
on  my  hat  and  take  up  my  walking-stick,  and  go  out, 
and  make  a bargain  with  the  rightful  owner.  Now, 
what  do  you  say  ? ” 

“ I say,”  returned  Mr.  Boffin,  leaning  forward  in 
alarmed  appeal,  with  his  hands  on  his  knees,  “that  I 
am  sure  I don’t  want  to  trifle,  Wegg.  I have  said  so  to 
Venus.” 

“ You  certainly  have,  sir,”  said  Venus. 

“You’re  too  milk-and-watery  with  our  friend,  you 
are,  indeed,”  remonstrated  Silas,  with  a disapproving 


252 


our:  mutual  friend. 


shake  of  his  wooden  head.  Then  at  once  you  confess 
yourself  desirous  to  come  to  terms,  do  you,  Boffin  ? 
Before  you  answer,  keep  this  hat  well  in  your  mind, 
and  also  this  walking-stick. 

‘‘1  am  willing,  Wegg,  to  come  to  terms.” 

Willing  won’t  do.  Boffin.  I won’t  take  willing. 
Are  you  desirous  to  come  to  terms  ? Do  you  ask  to  b^e 
allowed  as  a favour  to  come  to  terms  ?”  Mr.  Wegg 
again  planted  his  arm,  and  put  his  head  on  one  side. 

^^Yes.” 

^Wes  what?”  said  the  inexorable  Wegg:  I won’t 
take  yes.  I’ll  have  it  out  of  you  in  full.  Boffin.” 

Dear  me!”  cried  that  unfortunate  gentleman.  '‘'I 
am  so  worrited!  I ask  to  be  allowed  to  come  to  terms, 
supposing  your  document  is  all  correct.” 

''  Don’t  you  be  afraid  of  that,”  said  Silas,  poking  his 
head  at  him.  " You  shall  be  satisfied  by  seeing  it.  Mr. 
Venus  will  show  it  you.  and  I’ll  hold  you  the  while. 
Then  you  want  to  know  what  the  terms  are.  Is  that 
about  the  sum  and  substance  of  it?  Will  you  or  won’t 
you  answer.  Boffin?”  For  he  had  paused  a moment. 

" Dear  me!  ” cried  the  unfortunate  gentleman  again, 
" I am  worrited  to  that  degree  that  I’m  almost  oft*  my 
head.  You  hurry  me  so.  Be  so  good  as  name  the 
terms,  Wegg.” 

"N§w,  mark.  Boffin,”  returned  Silas:  "Mark  ’em 
well,  because  they’re  the  lowest  terms  and  the  only 
terms.  You’ll  throw  your  Mound  (the  little  Mound  as 
comes  to  you  any  way)  into  the  general  estate,  and 
then  you’ll  divide  the  whole  property  into  three  parts, 
and  you’ll  keep  one  and  hand  over  the  others.” 

Mr.  Venus’s  mouth  screwed  itself  up  as  Mr.  Boffin’s 
face  lengthened  itself;  Mr.  Venus  not  having  been  pre- 
pared for  such  a rapacious  demand. 

"Now,  wait  a bit.  Boffin,”  Wegg  proceeded,  "there’s 
something  more.  You’ve  been  a squandering  this  pro- 
perty— laying  some  of  it  out  on  yourself.  That  won’t  do. 
You’ve  bought  a house.  You’ll  be  charged  for  it.” 

"I  shall  be  ruined,  Wegg!”  Mr.  Boffin  faintly  pro- 
tested. 

" Now,  wait  a bit.  Boffin;  there’s  something  more. 
You’ll  leave  me  in  sole  custody  of  these  Mounds  till 
they’re  all  laid  low.  If  any  waluables  should  be  found 
in  ’em,  I’ll  take  care  of  such  waluables.  You’ll  produce 


THE  GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  SINKS  AGAIN. 

your  contract  for  the  sale  of  the  Mounds,  that  we  may 
know  to  a penny  what  theyTe  worth,  and  you’ll  make 
out  likewise  an  exact  list  of  all  the  other  property. 
When  the  Mounds  is  cleared  away  to  the  last  shovel- 
full,  the  final  diwision  will  come  off.” 

Dreadful,  dreadful,  dreadful!  I shall  die  in  a work- 
house!  ” cried  the  Golden  Dustman,  with  his  hands  to 
his  head. 

‘^Now,  wait  a bit.  Boffin;  there’s  something  more. 
You’ve  been  unlawfully  ferreting  about  this  yard. 
You’ve  been  seen  in  the  act  of  ferreting  about  this  yard. 
Two  pair  of  eyes  at  the  present  moment  brought  to  bear 
upon  you,  have  seen  you  dig  up  a Dutch  bottle.” 

^'It  was  mine,  Wegg,”  protested  Mr.  Boffin.  ^^I  put 
it  there  myself.” 

What  was  in  it.  Boffin?”  inquired  Silas. 

Not  gold,  not  silver,  not  bank  notes,  not  jewels, 
nothing  that  you  could  turn  into  money,  Wegg;  upon 
my  soul ! ” 

‘^Prepared,  Mr.  Venus,”  said  Wegg,  turning  to  his 
partner  with  a knowing  and  superior  air,  '^for  an 
ewasive  answer  on  the  part  of  our  dusty  friend  here,  I 
have  hit  out  a little  idea  which  I think  will  meet  your 
views.  We  charge  that  bottle  against  our  dusty  friend 
at  a thousand  pounds.” 

Mr.  Boffin  drew  a deep  groan. 

Now,  wait  a bit.  Boffin;  there’s  something  more. 
In  your  employment  is  an  underhanded  sneak,  named 
Rokesmith.  It  won’t  answer  to  have  him  about  while 
this  business  of  ours  is  about.  He  must  be  dis- 
charged.” 

Rokesmith  is  already  discharged,”  said  Mr.  Boffin, 
speaking  in  a muffled  voice,  with  his  hands  before  his 
face,  as  he  rocked  himself  on  the  settle. 

Already  discharged,  is  he?”  returned  Wegg,  sur- 
prised. ^^Oh!  Then,  Boffin,  I believe  there’s  nothing 
more  at  present.” 

The  unlucky  gentleman  continuing  to  rock  himself 
to  and  fro,  and  to  utter  an  occasional  moan,  Mr.  Venus 
besought  him  to  bear  up  against  his  reverses,  and  to 
take  time  to  accustom  himself  to  the  thought  of  his  new 
position.  But,  his  taking  time  was  exactly  the  thing  of 
all  others  that  Silas  Wegg  could  not  be  induced  to  hear 
of.  ^ W es,  or  no,  and  no  half-measures!  ” was  the  motto 


254 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


which  that  obdurate  person  many  times  repeated;  shak- 
ing* his  fist  at  Mr.  Boffin,  and  pegging  his  motto  into  the 
fioor  with  his  wooden  leg,  in  a threatening  and  alarm- 
ing manner. 

At  length  Mr.  Boffin  entreated  to  be  allowed  a quarter 
of  an  hour’s  grace,  and  a cooling  walk  of  that  duration 
in  the  yard.  With  some  difficulty  Mr.  Wegg  granted 
this  great  favour,  but  only  on  condition  that  he  ac- 
companied Mr.  Boffin  in  his  walk,  as  not  knowing  what 
he  might  fraudulently  unearth  if  he  were  left  to  him- 
self. A more  absurd  sight  than  Mr.  Boffin  in  his  men- 
tal irritation  trotting  very  nimbly,  and  Mr.  Wegg  hop- 
ping after  him  with  great  exertion,  eager  to  watch  the 
slightest  turn  of  an  eyelash,  lest  it  should  indicate  a 
spot  rich  with  some  secret,  assuredly  had  never  been 
seen  in  the  shadow  of  the  Mounds.  Mr.  Wegg  was 
much  distressed  when  the  quarter  of  an  hour  expired, 
and  came  hopping  in,  a very  bad  second. 

can’t  *help  myself  !”  cried  Mr.  Boffin,  fiouncing  on 
the  settle  in  a forlorn  manner,  with  his  hands  deep  in 
his  pockets,  as  if  his  pockets  had  sunk.  What’s  the 
good  of  my  pretending  to  stand  out,  when  I can’t  help 
myself  ? I must  give  in  to  the  terms.  But  I should  like 
to  see  the  document.” 

Wegg,  who  was  all  for  clinching  the  nail  he  had  so 
strongly  driven  home,  announced  that  Boffin  should  see 
it  without  an  hour’s  delay.  Taking  him  into  custody 
for  that  purpose,  or  overshadowing  him  as  if  he  really 
were  his  Evil  Genius  in  visible  form,  Mr.  Wegg  clapped 
Mr.  Boffin’s  hat  upon  the  back  of  his  head,  and  walked 
him  out  by  the  arm,  asserting  a proprietorship  over  his 
soul  and  body  that  was  at  once  more  grim  and  more 
ridiculous  than  anything  in  Mr.  Venus’s  rare  collection. 
That  light-haired  gentleman  followed  close  upon  their 
heels,  at  least  backing  up  Mr.  Boffin  in  a literal  sense,  if 
he  had  not  had  recent  opportunities  of  doing  so 
spiritually;  while  Mr.  Boffin,  trotting  on  as  hard  as  he 
could  trot,  involved  Silas  Wegg  in  frequent  collisions 
with  the  public,  much  as  a pre-occupied  blind  man’s 
dog  may  be  seen  to  involve  his  master. 

Thus  they  reached  Mr.  Venus’s  establishment,  some- 
what heated  by  the  nature  of  their  progress  thither. 
Mr.  Wegg,  especially,  was  in  a fiaming  glow,  and  stood 
in  the  little  shop,  panting  and  mopping  his  head  with 


THE  GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  SINKS  AGAIN.  255 

his  pocket-handkerchief,  speechless  for  several  min- 
utes. 

Meanwhile,  Mr.  Venus,  who  had  left  the  duelling 
frogs  to  fight  it  out  in  his  absence  by  candlelight  for 
the  public  delectation,  put  the  shutters  up.  When  all 
was  ^nug,  and  the  shop-door  fastened,  he  said  to  the 
perspiring  Silas:  ''I  suppose,  Mr.  Wegg,  we  may  now 
produce'  the  paper 

Hold  on  a minute,  sir,”  replied  that  discreet  char- 
acter; hold  on  a minute.  Will  you  obligingly  shove  that 
box — which  you  mentioned  on  a former  occasion  as 
containing  miscellanies — towards  me  in  the  midst  of 
the  shop  here  ?” 

Mr.  Venus  did  as  he  was  asked. 

V Very  good,”said  Silas,  looking  about ; ve — ry  good. 
Will  you  hand  me  that  chair,  sir,  to  put  a-top  of  it  ?” 

Venus  handed  him  the  chair. 

^^Now,  Boffin,”  said  Wegg,  ^^mountup  here  and  take 
your  seat,  will  you?  ” 

Mr.  Boffin,  as  if  he  were  about  to  have  his  portrait 
painted,  or  to  be  electrified,  or  to  be  made  a Freemason, 
or  to  be  placed  at  any  other  solitary  disadvantage, 
ascended  the  rostrum  prepared  for  him. 

^^Now,  Mr.  Venus,”  said  Silas,  taking  off  his  coat, 

when  I catches  our  friend  here  round  the  arms  and 
body,  and  pins  him  tight  to  the  back  of  the  chair,  you 
may  show  him  what  he  wants  to  see.  If  you’ll  open  it, 
and  hold  it  well  up  in  one  hand,  sir,  and  a ‘candle  in  the 
other,  he  can  read  it  charming.” 

Mr.  Boffin  seemed  rather  inclined  to  object  to  these 
precautionary  arrangements,  but  being  immediately 
embraced  by  Wegg,  resigned  himself.  Venus  then 
produced  the  document,  and  Mr.  Boffin  slowly  spelt  it  out 
aloud  : so  very  slowly,  that  Wegg,  who  was  holding 
him  in  the  chair  with  the  grip  of  a wrestler,  became 
again  exceedingly  the  worse  for  his  exertions.  ‘^Say 
when  you’ve  put  it  safe  back,  Mr.  Venus,”  he  uttered 
with  difficulty,  for  the  strain  of  this  is  terrimenjious.” 

At  length  the  document  was  restored  to  its  place;  and 
Wegg,  whose  uncomfortable  attitude  had  been  that  of 
a very  persevering  man  unsuccessfully  attempting  to 
stand  upon  his  head,  took  a seat  to  recover  himself. 
Mr.  Boffin,  for  his  part,  made  no  attempt  to  come  down, 
but  remained  aloft  disconsolate. 


25G 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Well,  Boffin!’’  said  Wegg,  as  soon  as  he  was  in  a 
condition  to  speak.  ^^Now,  you  know.” 

‘Wes,  Wegg,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  meekly.  “ Now,  I 
know.” 

“You  have  no  doubts  about  it.  Boffin.” 

“No,  Wegg.  No,  Wegg.  None,”  was  the  slow;and 
sad  reply. 

“Then,  take  care,  you,”  said  Wegg,  “ that  you  stick 
to  your  conditions.  Mr.  Venus,  if  on  this  auspicious 
occasion,  you  should  happen  to  have  a drop  of  anything 
not  quite  so  mild  as  tea  in  the  ’ouse,  I think  I’d  take  the 
friendly  liberty  of  asking  you  for  a specimen  of  it.” 

Mr.  Venus,  reminded  of  the  duties  of  hospitality, 
produced  some  rum.  In  answer  to  the  inquiry,  “Will 
you  mix  it,  Mr. Wegg?”  that  gentleman  pleasantly  re- 
joined “ I think  not,  sir.  On  so  auspicious  an  occasion, 
I prefer  to  take  it  in  the  form  of  a Gum-Tickler.” 

Mr.  Boffin,  declining  rum,  being  still  elevated  on  his 
pedestal,  was  in  a convenient  position  to  be  addressed. 
Wegg,  having  eyed  him  with  an  impudent  air  at  leisure, 
addressed  him,  therefore,  while  refreshing  himself  with 
his  dram. 

“ Bof — fin!  ” 

“Yes,  Wegg,”  he  answered,  coming  out  of  a fit  of 
abstraction,  with  a sigh. 

“ I haven’t  mentioned  one  thing,  because  it’s  a detail 
that  comes  of  course.  You  must  be  followed  up,  you 
know.  You  must  be  kept  under  inspection.” 

“ I don’t  quite  understand,”  said  Mr.  Boffin. 

“Don’t  you  ?”  sneered  Wegg.  “ Where’s  your  wits. 
Boffin?  Till  the  Mounds  is  down,  and  this  business  com- 
pleted, you’re  accountable  for  all  the  property,  recollect. 
Consider  yourself  accountable  to  me.  Mr.  Venus  here 
being  too  milk-and- watery  with  you,  I am  the  boy  for 
you.” 

“ I’ve  been  a-thinking,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  in  a tone  of 
despondency,  “ that  I must  keep  the  knowledge  from 
my  old  lady,” 

“ Th^  knowledge  of  the  diwision,  d’ye  mean?”  in- 
quired Wegg,  helping  himself  to  a third  Gum-Tickler 
— for  he  had  already  taken  a second. 

“Yes.  If  she  was  to  die  first  of  us  two  she  might 
then  think  all  her  life,  poor  thing,  that  I had  got  the 
rest  of  the  fortune  still,  and  was  saving  it.” 


THE  GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  SINKS  AGAIN.  257 


^‘1  suspect,  Boffin,”  returned  Yiegg,  shaking  his  head 
sagaciously,  and  bestowing  a wooden  wink  upon  him, 
‘Hhat  you’ve  found  out  some  account  of  some  old  chap, 
supposed  to  be  a Miser,  who  got  himself  the  credit  of 
having  much  more  money  than  he  had.  However,  I 
don’t  mind.” 

Don’t  you  see,  Wegg?  ” Mr.  Boffin  feelingly  repre- 
sented to  him;  don’t  you  see?  My  old  lady  has  got  so 
used  to  the  property.  It  would  be  such  a hard  surprise.  ” 

I don’t  see  it  at  all,  blustered  Wegg.  You’ll  have 
as  much  as  I shall.  And  who  are  you?” 

^‘^But  then,  again,”  Mr.  Boffin  gently  represented ; 
^^my  old  lady  has  very  upright  principles.” 

Who’s  your  old  lady,”  returned  Wegg,  ‘^to  set  her- 
self up  for  having  uprighter  princiffies  than  mine?” 

Mr.  Boffin  seemed  a little  less  patient  at  this  point 
than  at  any  other  of  the  negotiations.  But  he  com- 
manded himself,  and  said  tamely  enough:  think  it 

must  be  kept  from  my  old  lady,  Wegg.” 

''Well,”  said  Wegg  contemptuously,  though,  perhaps, 
perceiving  some  hint  of  danger  otherwise,  ‘^keep  it 
from  your  old  lady.  I ain’t  going  to  tell  her.  I can 
have  you  under  close  inspection  without  that.  I’m  as 
good  a man  as  you,  and  better.  Ask  me  to  dinner. 
Give  me.  the  run  of  your  ’ouse.  I was  good  enough  for 
you  and  your  old  lady  once,  when  I helped  you  out  with 
your  weal  and  hammers.  Was  there  no  Miss  Elizabeth, 
Master  George,  Aunt  Jane,  and  Uncle  Parker,  before 
you  two  ? ” 

Gently,  Mr.  Wegg,  gently,”  Venus  urged. 

y Milk-and-water-erily  you  mean,  sir,”  he  returned, 
with  some  little  thickness  of  speech,  in  consequence  of 
the  Gum-Ticklers  having  tickled  it.  ^H’ve  got  him 
under  inspection,  and  I’ll  inspect  him. 

* Along  the  line  the  signal  ran, 

England  expects  as  this  present  man 
Will  keep  Boffin  to  his  duty.’ 

— Boffin,  I’ll  see  you  home.” 

Mr.  Boffin  descended  with  an  air  of  resignation,  and 
gave  himself  up,  after  taking  friendly  leave  of  Mr. 
Venus.  Once  more.  Inspector  and  Inspected  went 
through  the  streets  together,  and  so  arrived  at  Mr. 
Boffin’s  door. 

VOL.  II. 


17 


258 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


But  even  there,  when  Mr.  Boffin  had  given  his  keeper 
good-night,  and  had  let  himself  in  with  his  key,  and 
had  softly  closed  the  door,  even  there  and  then,  the  all- 
powerful  Silas  must  needs  claim  another  assertion  of 
his  newly-asserted  power. 

Bof — fin!”  he  called  through  the  keyhole. 

Yes,  Wegg,”  was  the  reply  through  the  same  chan- 
nel. 

^^Come  out.  Show  yourself  again.  Let’s  have  an- 
other look  at  you ! ” 

Mr.  Boffin — ah,  how  fallen  from  the  high  estate  of  his 
honest  simplicity! — opened  the  door  and  obeyed. 

Go  in.  You  may  get  to  bed  now,”  said  Wegg,  with 
a grin. 

The  door  was  hardly  closed,  when  he  again  called 
through  the  keyhole: 

^^Bof-fin!” 

Yes,  Wegg.” 

This  time  S^ilas  made  no  reply,  but  laboured  with  a 
will  at  turning  an  imaginary  grindstone  outside  the 
keyhole,  while  Mr.  Boffin  stood  at  it  within;  he  then 
laughed  silently,  and  stumped  home. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A RUNAWAY  MATCH. 

Cherubic  Pa  arose  with  as  little  noise  as  possible 
from  beside  majestic  Ma,  one  morning  early,  hav- 
ing a holiday  before  him.  Pa  and  the  lovely  woman 
had  a rather  particular  appointment  to  keep. 

Yet  Pa  and  the  lovely  woman  were  not  going  out  to- 
gether. Bella  was  up  before  four,  but  had  no  bonnet 
on.  She  was  waiting  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs — was  sit- 
ting on  the  bottom  stair,  in  fact — to  receive  Pa  when 
he  came  down,  but  her  only  object  seemed  to  be  to  get 
Pa  well  out  of  the  house. 

Your  breakfast  is  ready,  sir,”  whispered  Bella, 
after  greeting  him  with  a hug,  ^^and  all  you  have  to  do, 
is  to  eat  it  up  and  drink  it  up,  and  escape.  How  do 
you  feel,  Pa?” 


A RUNAWAY  MATCH. 


250 


the  best  of  my  judgment,  like  a housebreaker 
new  to  the  business,  my  dear,  who  canT  make  himself 
quite  comfortable  till  he  is  off  the  premises.” 

Bella  tucked  her  arm  in  his  with  a merry  noiseless 
laugh,  and  they  went  down  to  the  kitchen  on  tiptoe; 
she  stopping  on  every  separate  stair  to  put  the  tip  of 
her  forefinger  on  her  rosy  lips,  and  then  lay  it  on  his 
lips,  according  to  her  favourite  petting  way  of  kiss- 
ing Pa. 

'^How  do  you  feel,  m^^  love?”  asked  R.  W.,  as  she 
gave  him  his  breakfast. 

I feel  as  if  the  Fortune-teller  was  coming  true,  dear 
Pa,  and  the  fair  little  man  was  turning  out  as  was  pre- 
dicted.” 

Ho!  Only  the  fair  little  man?”  said  her  father.  . 

Bella  put  another  of  those  finger-seals  upon  his  lips, 
and  then  said,  kneeling  down  by  him  as  he  sat  at  table: 
^^Now,  look  here,  sir.  If  you  keep  well  up  to  the  mark 
this  day,  what  do  you  think  you  deserve?  What  did  I 
promise  you  should  have,  if  you  were  good,  upon  a cer- 
tain occasion?” 

‘^^Upon  my  word  I don’t  remember.  Precious.  Yes,  I 
do,  though.  Wasn’t  it  one  of  these  beau — tiful  tresses?  ” 
with  his  caressing  hand  upon  her  hair. 

Wasn’t  it,  too  I ” returned  Bella,  pretending  to  pout. 

Upon  my  word  ! Do  you  know,  sir,  that  the  Fortune- 
teller would  give  five  thousand  guineas  (if  it  was  quite 
convenient  to  him,  which  it  isn’t)  for  the  lovely  piece  I 
have  cut  off  for  you  ? You  can  form  no  idea,  sir,  of  the 
number  of  times  he  kissed  quite  a scrubby  little  piece — 
in  comparison — ^that  I cut  off  for  him.  And  he  wears 
it,  too,  round  his  neck,  I can  tell  you!  Near  his  heart!” 
said  Bella,  nodding.  Ah  ! very  near  his  heart  ! How- 
ever, you  have  been  a good,  good  boy,  and  you  are  the 
best  of  all  the  dearest  boys  that  ever  were,  this  morn- 
ing, and  there’s  the  chain  I have  made  of  it.  Pa,  and 
you  must  let  me  put  it  round  your  neck  with  my  own 
loving  hands.” 

* As  Pa  bent  his  head,  she  cried  over  him  a little,  and 
then  said  (after  having  stopped  to  dry  her  eyes  on  his 
white  waistcoat,  the  discovery  of  which  incongruous 
circumstance  made  her  laugh):  Now,  darling  Pa,  give 
me  your  hands  that  I may  fold  them  together,  and  do 
you  say  after  me: — My  little  Bella.” 


260 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


''  My  little  Bella/’  repeated  Pa. 

I am  very  fond  of  you.” 

I am  very  fond  of  you,  my  darling/’  said  Pa. 

You  mustn’t  say  anything  not  dictated  to  you,  sir. 
You  daren’t  do  it  in  your  responses  at  Church,  and  you 
mustn’t  do  it  in  your  responses  out  of  Church.” 

I withdraw  the  darling,”  said  Pa. 

That’s  a pious  boy  ! Now  again  : — You  were  al- 
ways  ” 

‘'You  were  always,”  repeated  Pa. 

“ A vexatious ” 

“ No  you  weren’t,”  said  Pa. 

“A  vexatious  (do  you  hear,  sir  ?),  a vexatious,  capri- 
cious, thankless,  troublesome.  Animal;  but  I hope  you’ll 
do  better  in  the  time  to  come,  and  I bless  you  and  for- 
give you  ! ” Here  she  quite  forgot  that  it  was  Pa’s 
turn  to  make  the  responses,  and  clung  to  his  neck. 
“ Dear  Pa,  if  you  knew  how  much  It-hink  this  morning 
of  what  you  told  me  once,  about  the  first  time  of  our 
seeing  old  Mr.  Harmon,  when  I stamped  and  screamed 
and  beat  you  with  my  detestable  little  bonnet  ! I feel 
as  if  I had  been  stamping  and  screaming  and  beating 
you  with  my  hateful  little  bonnet,  ever  since  I was  born, 
darling  ! ” 

“Nonsense,  my  love.  And  as  to  your  bonnets,  they 
have  always  been  nice  bonnets,  for  they  have  always 
become  you — or  you  have  become  them;  perhaps  it  was 
that — at  every  age.” 

“Did  I hurt  you  much,  poor*  little  Pa?”  asked  Bella, 
laughing  (notwithstanding  her  repentance)  with  fan- 
tastic pleasure  in  the  picture,  “when  I beat  you  with 
my  bonnet?  ” 

“No,  my  child.  Wouldn’t  have  hurt  a fly!  ” 

“ Ah,  but  I am  afraid  I shouldn’t  have  beat  you  at 
all,  unless  I had  meant  to  hurt  you,”  said  Bella.  “Did 
I pinch  your  legs,  Pa?” 

“Not  much,  my  dear;  but  H think  it’s  almost  time 

T ” 

-L  « 

“ Oh  yes!  ” cried  Bella.  If  I go  on  chattering,  you’ll 
be  taken  alive.  Fly.  Pa,  fly!  ” 

So,  they  went  softly  up  the  kitchen  stairs  on  tiptoe, 
and  Bella  with  her  light  hand  softly  removed  the  fast- 
enings of  the  house-door,  and  Pa,  having  received  a 
parting  hug,  made  off.  When  he  had  gone  a little  way, 


A RUNAWAY  MATCH. 


201 


• 

he  looked  back.  Upon  Y^hich,  Bella  set  another  of 
those  finger  seals  upon  the  air,  and  thrust  out  her  little 
foot  expressive  of  the  mark.  Pa,  in  appropriate  action, 
expressed  fidelity  to  the  mark,  and  made  off  as  fast  as 
he  could  go. 

Bella  walked  thoughtfully  in  the  garden  for  an  hour 
and  more,  and  then,  returning  to  the  bedroom  where 
Lavvy  the  Irrepressible  still  slumbered,  put  on  a little 
bonnet  of  quiet,  but  on  the  whole  of  sly  appearance, 
which  she  had  yesterd'ay  made.  I am  going  for  a 
walk,  Lavvy,”  she  said,  as  she  stooped  down  and  kissed 
her.  The  Irrepressible,  with  a bounce  in  the  bed,  and 
a remark  that  it  wasn’t  time  to  get  up  yet,  relapsed  into 
unconsciousness,  if  she  had  come  out  of  it. 

Behold  Bella  tripping  along  the  streets,  the  dearest 
girl  afoot  under  the  summer  sun!  Behold  Pa  waiting 
for  Bella  behind  a pump,  at  least  three  miles  from  the 
parental  roof -tree.  Behold  Bella  and  Pa  aboard  the 
steamboat  bound  for  Greenwich. 

Were  they  expected  at  Greenwich?  Probably.  At 
least,  Mr.  John  Rokesmith  was  on  the  pier  looking  out, 
about  a couple  of  hours  before  the  coaly  (but  to  him 
gold-dusty)  little  steamboat  got  her  steam  up  in  London. 
Probably.  At  least,  Mr.  John  Rokesmith  seemed  per- 
fectly satisfied  when  he  descried  them  on  board. 
Probably.  At  least,  Bella  no  sooner  stepped  ashore 
than  she  took  Mr.  John  Rokesmith’s  arm,  without 
evincing  surprise,  and  the  two  walked  away  together 
with  an  ethereal  air  of  happiness  which,  as  it  were, 
wafted  up  from  the  earth  and  drew  after  them  a gruff 
and  glum  old  pensioner  to  see  it  out.  Two  wooden  legs 
had  this  gruff  and  glum  old  pensioner,  and,  a minute 
before  Bella  stepped  out  of  the  boat,  and  drew  that  con- 
fiding little  arm  of  hers  through  Rokesmith’ s,  he  had 
no  object  in  life  but  tobacco,  and  not  enough  of  that. 
Stranded  was  Gruff  and  Glum  in  a harbour  of  everlast- 
ing mud,  when  all  in  an  instant  Bella  floated  him,  and 
away  he  went. 

Say,_cherubic  parent  taking  the  lead,  in  what  direc- 
tion do  we  steer  first  ? With  some  such  inquiry  in  his 
thoughts.  Gruff  and  Glum,  stricken  by  so  sudden  an  in- 
terest that  he  perked  his  neck  and  looked  over  the  in- 
tervening people,  as  if  he  were  trying  to  stand  on  tiptoe 
with  his  two  wooden  legs,  took  an  observation  of  R.  W. 


2G2 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


There  wa?i  no  first’’  in  the  case,  Gruff  and  Glum  made 
out ; the  cherubic  parent  was  bearing  down  and  crowd- 
ing on  direct  for  Greenwich  church,  to  see  his  relations. 

For,  Gruff  and  Glum,  though  most  events  acted  on 
him  simply  as  tobacco-stoppers,  pressing  down  and  con- 
densing the  quids  within  him,  might  be  imagined  to 
trace  a family  resemblance  between  the  cherubs  in  the 
church  architecture,  and  the  cherub  in  the  white  waist- 
coat. Some  remembrance  of  old  Valentines,  wherein  a 
cherub,  less  appropriately  attired  for  a proverbially  un- 
certain climate,  had  been  seen  conducting  lovers  to  the 
altar,  might  have  been  fancied  to  inflame  the  ardour  of 
his  timber  toes.  Be  it  as  it  might,  he  gave  his  moor- 
ings the  slip,  and  followed  in  the  chase. 

The  cherub  went  before,  all  beaming  smiles ; Bella 
and  John  Rokesmith  followed;  Gruff  and  Glum  stuck 
to  them  like  wax.  For  years,  the  wings  of  his  mind 
had  gone  to  look  after  the  legs  of  his  body ; but  Bella 
had  brought  them  back  for  him  per  steamer,  and  they 
were  spread  again. 

He  was  a slow  sailer  on  a wind  of  happiness,  but  he 
took  a cross  cut  for  the  rendezvous,  and  pegged  away 
as  if  he  were  scoring  furiously  at  cribbage.  When  the 
shadow  of  the  church-porch  swallowed  them  up,  victo- 
rious Gruff  and  Glum  likewise  presented  himself  to  be 
swallowed  up.  And  by  this  time  the  cherubic  parent  was 
so  fearful  of  surprise,  that,  but  for  the  two  wooden  legs 
on  which  Gruff  and  Glum  was  reassuringly  mounted, 
his  conscience  might  have  introduced,  in  the  person  of 
that  pensioner,  his  own  stately  lady  disguised,  arrived 
at  Greenwich  in  a car  and  griffins,  like  the  spiteful 
Fairy  at  the  christenings  of  the  Princesses,  to  do  some- 
thing dreadful  to  the  marriage  service.  And  truly  he 
had  a momentary  reason  to  be  pale  of  face,  and  to  whis- 
per to  Bella,  ^ Won  don’t  think  that  can  be  your  Ma  ; do 
you,  my  dear  ? ” on  account  of  a mysterious  rustling 
and  a stealthy  movement  somewhere  in  the  remote 
neighbourhood  of  the  organ,  though  it  was  gone  directly 
and  was  heard  no  more.  Albeit  it  was  heard  of  after- 
wards, as  will  afterwards  be  read  in  this  veTacious 
register  of  marriage. 

Who  taketh  ? I,  John,  and  so  do  I,  Bella.  Who  giv- 
eth  ? I,  R.  W.  Forasmuch,  Gruff  and  Glum,  as  John 
and  Bella  have  consented  together  in  holy  wedlock,  you 


A RUNAWAY  MATCH. 


263 


may  (in  short)consider  it  done,  and  withdraw  your  two 
wooden  legs  from  this  temple.  To  the  foregoing  pur- 
port, the  Minister  speaking,  as  directed  by  the  Rubric, 
to  the  People,  selectly  represented  in  the  present  in- 
stance by  G.  and  G.  above  mentioned. 

And  now,  the  church-porch  having  swallowed  up 
Bella  Wilfer  for  ever  and  ever,  had  it  not  in  its  power 
to  relinquish  that  young  woman,  but  slid  into  the  happy 
sunlight,  Mrs.  John  Rokesmith  instead.  And  long  on 
the  bright  steps  stood  Gruff  and  Glum,  looking  after 
the  pretty  bride,  with  a narcotic  consciousness  of  hav- 
ing dreamed  a dream. 

After  which,  Bella  took  out  from  her  pocket  a little 
letter,  and  read  it  aloud  to  Pa  and  John  ; this  being  a 
true  copy  of  the  same. 

''Dearest  Ma, 

" I hope  you  won’t  be  angry,  but  I am  most  happily 
married  to  Mr.  John  Rokesmith,  who  loves  me  better 
than  I can  ever  deserve,  except  by  loving  him  with  all 
my  heart.  I thought  it  best  not  to  mention  it  before- 
hand, in  case  it  should  cause  any  little  difference  at 
home.  Please  tell  darling  Pa.,  With  love  to  Lavvy, 

" Ever  dearest  Ma, 

"Your  affectionate  daughter, 

" Bella 

" (P.S. — Rokesmith).” 

Then,  John  Rokesmith  put  the  queen’s  countenance 
on  the  letter — when  had  Her  Gracious  Majesty  looked 
so  benign  as  on  that  blessed  morning  ! — and  then  Bella 
popped  it  into  the  post-office,  and  said  merrily,  "Now, 
dearest  Pa,  you  are  safe,  and  will  never  be  taken  alive  ! ” 

Pa  was,  at  first,  in  the  stirred  depths  of  his  con- 
science, so  far  from  sure  of  being  safe  yet,  that  he 
made  out  majestic  matrons  lurking  in  ambush  among 
the  harmless  trees  of  Greenwich  Park,  and  seemed  to 
see  a stately  countenance  tied  up  in  a well-known 
pocket-handkerchief  glooming  down  at  him  from  a 
window  of  the  Observatory  where  the  Familiars  of  the 
Astronomer  Royal  nightly  outwatch  the  winking  stars. 
But  the  minutes  passing  on  and  no  Mrs.  Wilfer  in  the 
flesh  appearing,  he  became  more  confident,  and  so  re- 
paired with  good  heart  and  appetite  to  Mr.  and  Mrs, 


264 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


John  Rokesmith’s  cottage  on  Blackheath,  where  break- 
fast was  ready. 

A modest  little  cottage  but  a bright  and  a fresh,  and 
on  the  snowy  table-cloth  the  prettiest  of  little  break- 
fasts. In  waiting,  too,  like  an  attendant  summer 
breeze,  a fluttering  young  damsel,  all  pink  and  ribbons, 
blushing  as  if  she  had  been  married  instead  of  Bella, 
and  yet  asserting  the  triumph  of  her  sex  over  both 
John  and  Pa,  in  an  exulting  and  exalted  flurry  : as 
who  should  say,  This  is  what  you  must  all  come  to, 
gentlemen,  when  we  choose  to  bring  you  to  book.” 
This  same  young  damsel  was  Bella’s  serving-maid, 
and  unto  her  did  deliver  a bunch  of  keys,  commanding 
treasures  in  the  waj^of  dry-saltery,  groceries,  jams  and 
pickles,  the  investigation  of  which  made  pastime  after 
breakfast,  when  Bella  declared  that  ^^Pa  must  taste 
everything,  John,  dear,  or  it  will  never  be  lucky,”  and 
when  Pa  had  all  sorts  of  things  poked  into  his  mouth, 
and  didn’t  quite  know  what  to  do  with  them  when  they 
were  put  there. 

* Then  they,  all  three,  out  for  a charming  ride,  and  for 
a charming  stroll  among  heath  in  bloom,  and  there  be- 
hold the  identical  Gruff  and  Glum  with  his  wooden 
legs  horizontally  disposed  before  him,  apparently  sit- 
ting meditating  on  the  vicissitudes  of  life  ! To  whom 
said  Bella,  in  her  light-hearted  surprise  : Oh  ! How 
do  you  do  again  ? What  a dear  old  pensioner  you 
are  ! ” To  which  Gruff  and  Glum  responded  that  he 
see  her  married  this  morning,  my  Beauty,  and  that  if 
it  warn’t  a liberty  he  wished  her  ji  and  the  fairest  of 
fair  wind  and  weather  ; further,  in  a general  way  re- 
questing to  know  what  cheer  ? and  scrambling  up  on 
his  two  wooden  legs  to  salute,  hat  in  hand,  ship-shape, 
with  the  gallantry  of  a man-of-warsman  and  a heart 
of  oak. 

It  was  a pleasant  sight,  in  the  midst  of  the  golden 
bloom,  to  see  this  salt  old  Gruff  and  Glum  waving  his 
shovel  hat  at  Bella,  while  his  thin  white  hair  flowed 
free,  as  if  she  had  once  more  launched  him  into  blue- 
water  again.  ‘‘You  are  a charming  old  pensioner,” 
said  Bella,  '^and  I’m  so  happy  that  I wish  I could  make 
you  happy,  too.”  Answered  Gruff  and  Glum,  '‘Give 
me  leave  to  kiss  your  hand,  my  Lovely,  and  it’s  done!” 
So  it  was  done  to  the  general  contentment;  and  if  Gruff 


A RUNAWAY  MATCH. 


265 


and  Glum  didn’t  in  the  course  of  the  afternoon  splice 
the  main  brace,  it  was  not  for  want  of  means  of  in- 
flicting that  outrage  on  the  feelings  of  the  Infant 
Bands  of  Hoper. 

But,  the  marriage  dinner  was  the  crowning  success, 
for  what  had  bride  and  bridegroom  plotted  to  do,  but 
to  have  and  to  hold  that  dinner  in  the  very  room  of  the 
very  hotel  where  Pa  and  the  lovely  woman  had  once 
dined  together!  Bella  sat  between  Pa  and  John,  and 
divided  her  attentions  pretty  equally,  but  felt  it  neces- 
sary (in  the  waiter’s  absence  before  dinner)  to  remind 
Pa  that  she  was  Ms  lovely  woman  no  longer. 

am  well  aware  of  it,  my  dear,”  returned  the 
cherub,  ^^and  I resign  you  willingly.” 

Willingly,  sir?  You  ought  to  be  broken-hearted.” 

So  I should  be,  my  dear,  if  I thought  that  I was 
going  to  lose  you.”  ■ 

But  you  know  you  are  not;  don’t  you,  poor  dear  Pa? 
You  know  that  you  have  only  made  a new  relation  who 
will  be  as  fond  of  you  and  as  thankful  to  you — for  my 
sake  and  your  own  sake  both — as  I am;  don’t  you,  dear 
little  Pa?  Look  here.  Pa!  ” Bella  put  her  Anger  on  her 
own  lip,  and  then  on  Pa’s,  and  then  on  her  own  lip 
again,  and  then  on  her  husband’s.  Now  we  are  a 
partnership  of  three,  dear  Pa.” 

The  appearance  of  dinner  here  cut  Bella  short  in  one 
of  her  disappearances:  the  more  effectually,  because  it 
was  put  on  under  the  auspices  of  a solemn  gentleman 
in  black  clothes  and  a white  cravat,  who  looked  much 
more  like  a clergyman  than  the  clergyman,  and  seemed 
to  have  mounted  a great  deal  higher  in  the  church:  not 
to  say,  scaled  the  steeple.  This  dignitary,  conferring 
in  secrecy  with  John  Rokesmithon  the  subject  of  punch 
and  wines,  bent  his  head  as  though  stooping  to  the 
Papistical  practice  of  receiving  auricular  confession. 
Likewise,  on  John’s  offering  a suggestion  which  didn’t 
meet  his  views,  his  face  became  overcast  and  reproach- 
ful, as  enjoining  penance. 

What  a dinner!  Specimens  of  all  the  Ashes  that 
swim  in  the  sea,  surely  had  swum  their  way  to  it,  and 
if  samples  of  the  fishes  of  divers  colours  that  made  a 
speech  in  the  Arabian  Nights  (quite  a ministerial  ex- 
planation in  respect  of  cloudiness),  and  then  jumped 
out  of  the  frying-pan,  were  not  to  be  recognised,  it  was 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


only  because  they  had  all  become  of  one  hue  by  being 
cooked  in  batter  among  the  whitebait.  And  the  dishes 
being  seasoned  with  Bliss — an  article  which  they  are 
sometimes  out  of  at  Greenwich — were  of  perfect  fla- 
vour, and  the  golden  drinks  had  been  bottled  in  the 
golden  age,  and  hoarding  up  their  sparkles  ever  since. 

The  best  of  it  was,  that  Bella  and  John  and  the  cherub 
had  made  a covenant  that  they  would  not  reveal  to 
mortal  eyes  any  appearance  whatever  of  being  a wed- 
ding-party. Now,  the  supervising  dignitary,  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Greenwich,  knew  this  as  well  as  if  he  had 
performed  the  nuptial  ceremony.  And  the  loftiness 
with  which  his  Grace  entered  into  their  confidence 
without  being  invited,  and  insisted  on  a show  of  keep- 
ing the  waiters  out  of  it,  was  the  crowning  glory  of  the 
entertainment. 

There  was  an  innocent  young  waiter  of  a slender 
form  and  with  weakish  legs,  as  yet  unversed  in  the  wiles 
of  waiterhood,  and  but  too  evidently  of  a romantic  tem- 
perament, and  deeply  (if  it  were  not  too  much  to  add 
hopelessly)  in  love  with  some  young  female  not  aware 
of  his  merit.  This  guileless  youth,  descrying  the  position 
of  affairs,  which  even  his  innocence  could  not  mistake, 
limited  his  waiting  to  languishing  admiringly  against 
the  sideboard  when  Bella  didn’t  want  anything,  and 
swooping  at  her  when  she  did.  Him  his  Grace  the 
Archbishop  perpetually  obstructed,  cutting  him  out  with 
his  elbow  in  the  moment  of  success,  despatching  him  in 
degrading  quest  of  melted  butter,  and,  when  by  any 
chance  he  got  hold  of  any  dish  worth  having,  bereaving 
him  of  it,  and  ordering  him  to  stand  back. 

Pray  excuse  him,  madam,”  said  the  Archbishop  in  a 
low  stately  voice;  ^^he  is  a very  young  man  on  liking, 
and  we  don't  like  him.” 

This  induced  John  Rokesmith  to  observe — by  way  of 
making  the  thing  more  natural — Bella,  my  love,  this 
is  so  much  more  successful  than  any  of  our  past  anni- 
versaries, that  I think  we  must  keep  our  future  anniver- 
saries here.” 

Whereunto  Bella  replied,  with  probably  the  least  suc- 
cessful attempt  at  looking  matronly  that  ever  was  seen: 
‘^Indeed,  I think  so,  John,  dear.” 

Here  the  Arclibishop  of  Greenwich  coughed  a stately 
cough  to  attract  the  attention  of  three  of  his  ministers 


A RUNAWAY  MATCH. 


2G7 


present,  and  staring  at  them,  seemed  to  say:  call 

upon  you  by  your  fealty  to  believe  this!’’ 

With  his  own  hands  he  afterwards  put  on  the  dessert, 
as  remarking  to  the  three  guests,  The  period  has  now 
arrived  at  which  we  can  4ispense  with  the  assistance  of 
those  fellows  who  are  not  in  our  confidence,”  and  would 
have  retired  with  complete  dignity  but  for  a daring 
action  issuing  from  the  misguided  brain  of  the  young 
man  on  liking.  He  finding,  by  ill-fortune,  a piece  of 
orange  fiower  somewhere  in  the  lobbies,  now  approached 
undetected  with  the  same  in  a finger-glass,  and  placed 
it  on  Bella’s  right  hand.  The  Archbishop  instantly  eject- 
ed and  excommunicated  him  ; but  the  thing  was  done. 

I trust,  madam,”  said  his  Grace,  returning  alone, 
^^that  you  will  have  the  kindness  to  overlook  it,  in 
consideration  of  its  being  the  act  of  a very  young 
man  who  is  merely  here  on  liking,  and  who  will  never 
answer.” 

With  that  he  solemnly  bowed  and  retired,  and  they  all 
burst  into  laughter,  long  and  merry.  ‘^Disguise  is  of 
no  use,”  said  Bella;  ^^they  all  find  me  out;  I think  it 
must  be,  Pa  and  John  dear,  because  I look  so  happpy!” 

Her  husband  feeling  it  necessary  at  this  point  to 
demand  one  of  those  mysterious  disappearances  on 
Bella’s  part,  she  dutifully  obeyed;  saying  in  a softened 
voice  from  her  place  of  concealment: 

‘^Wou  remember  how  we  talked  about  the  ships  that 
day.  Pa?” 

‘^Wes,  my  dear.” 

^Hsn’t  it  strange,  now,  to  tj^ink  that  there  was  no 
John  in  all  the  ships.  Pa?” 

^^Not  at  all,  my  dear.” 

''Oh,  Pa!  Not  at  ^11?” 

"No,  my  dear.  How  can  we  tell  what  coming  people 
are  aboard  the  ships  that  may  be  sailing  to  us  now  from 
the  unknown  seas!” 

Bella  remaining  invisible  and  silent,  her  father  re- 
mained at  his  dessert  and  wine,  until  he  remembered  it 
was  time  for  him  to  get  home  to  Holloway.  "Though  I 
positively  cannot  tear  myself  away,”  he  cherubically 
added, — "it  would  be  a sin — without  drinking  to  many, 
many  happy  returns  of  this  most  happy  day.” 

" Hear!  ten  thousand  times!  ” cried  John.  " I fill  my 
glass  and  my  precious  wife’s.” 


268 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


'^Gentlemen/’  said  the  cherub^  inaudibly  addressing, 
in  his  Anglo-Saxon  tendency  to  throw  his  feelings  into 
the  form  of  a speech,  the  boys  down  below,  who  were 
bidding  against  each  other  to  put  their  heads  in  the 
mud  for  sixpence:  ^'Gentlemen — and  Bella  and  John — 
you  will  readily  suppose  that  it  is  not  my  intention  to 
trouble  you  with  many  observations  on  the  present  oc- 
casion. You  will  also  at  once  infer  the  nature  and  even 
the  terms  of  the  toast  I am  about  to  propose  on  the  pres- 
ent occasion.  Gentlemen — and  Bella  and  John — the 
present  occasion  is  an  occasion  fraught  with  feelings 
that  I cannot  trust  myself  to  express.  But,  gentlemen — 
and  Bella  and  John — for  the  part  I have  had  in  it,  for 
the  confidence  you  have  placed  in  me,  and  for  the 
affectionate  good-nature  and  kindness  with  which  you 
have  determined  not  to  find  me  in  the  way,  when  I am 
well  aware  that  I cannot  be  otherwise  than  in  it  more 
or  less,  I do  most  heartily  thank  you.  Gentlemen — 
and  Bella  and  John — my  love  to  you,  and  may  we  meet, 
as  on  the  present  occasion,  on  many  future  occasions; 
that  is  to  say,  gentlemen — and  Bella  and  John — on 
many  happy  returns  of  the  present  happy  occasion.” 

Having  thus  concluded  his  address,  the  amiable 
cherub  embraced  his  daughter,  and  took  his  flight  to  the 
steamboat  which  was  to  convey  him  to  London,  and 
was  then  lying  at  the  floating  pier,  doing  its  best  to 
bump  the  same  to  bits.  But,  the  happy  couple  were  not 
going  to  part  with  him  in  that  way,  and  before  he  had 
•been  on  board  two  minutes,  there  they  were,  looking 
down  at  him  from  the  wharf  above. 

^^Pa  dear!”  cried  B511a,  beckoning  him  with  her 
parasol  to  approach  the  side,  and  bending  gracefully  to 
whisper. 

Yes,  my  darling.” 

Did  I beat  you  much  with  that  horrid  little  bonnet. 
Pa?” 

^‘Nothing  to  speak  of,  ihy  dear.” 

Did  I pinch  your  legs.  Pa?” 

Only  nicely,  my  pet.” 

^^You  are  sure  you  quite  forgive  me.  Pa?  Please, 
Pa,  please,  forgive  me  quite!”  Half  laughing  at  him 
and  half  crying  to  him,  Bella  besought  him  in  the  pret- 
tiest manner;  in  a manner  so  engaging  and  so  playful 
and  so  natural,  that  her  cherubic  parent  made  a coax- 


A RUNAWAY  MATCH. 


269 


ing  face  as  if  she  had  never  grown  up,  and  said,  What 
a silly  little  mouse  it  is!’’ 

'^But  you  do  forgive  me  that,  and  everything  else; 
don’t  you.  Pa?” 

Yes,  my  dearest.” 

And  you  don’t  feel  solitary  or  neglected,  going 
away  by  yourself ; do  you.  Pa?” 

'‘'Lord  bless  you!  No,  my  Life!” 

" Good-bye,  dearest  Pa.  Good-bye!  ” 

"Good-bye,  my  darling!  Take  her  away,  my  dear 
John.  Take  her  home!” 

So,  she  leaning  on  her  husband’s  arm,  they  turned 
homeward  by  a rosy  path  which  the  gracious  sun  struck 
out  for  them  in  its  setting.  And  oh,  there  are  days  in  this 
life  worth  life  and  worth  death.  And  oh,  what  a bright 
old  song  it  is,  that  Oh,  ’tis  love,  ’tis  love,  ’tis  love,  that 
makes  the  world  go  round  ! 


CHAPTER  V. 

CONCERNING  THE  MENDICANT’S  BRIDE. 

The  impressive  gloom  with  which  Mrs.  Wilfer  re- 
ceived her  husband  on  his  return  from  the  wedding 
knocked  so  hard  at  the  door  of  the  cherubic  conscience, 
and  likewise  so  impaired  the  firmness  of  the  cherubic 
legs,  that  the  culprit’s  tottering  condition  of  mind  and 
body  might  have  roused  suspicion  in  less  occupied  per- 
sons than  the  grimly  heroic  lady.  Miss  Lavinia,  and 
that  esteemed  friend  of  the  family,  Mr.  George  Samp- 
son. But,  the  attention  of  all  three  being  fully  possessed 
by  the  main  fact  of  the  marriage,  they  had  happily 
none  to  bestow  oh  the  guilty  conspirator;  to  which  for- 
tunate circumstance  he  owed  the  escape  for  which  he 
was  in  nowise  indebted  to  himself. 

"You  do  not,  R.  W.,”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer  from  her 
stately  corner,  " inquire  for  your  daughter  Bella.” 

"To  be  sure,  my  dear,”  he  returned,  with  a most  fia- 
grant  assumption  of  unconsciousness,  " I did  omit  it. 
How  — or  perhaps  I should  rather  say  where  — is 
Bella  ? ” 


270  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

Not  here/’  Mrs.  Wilfer  proclaimed,  with  folded 
arms. 

The  cherub  faintly  muttered  something  to  the  abor- 
tive effect  of  ''Oh,  indeed,  my  dear  !” 

" Not  here,”  repeated  Mrs.  Wilfer,  in  a stern  sonorous 
voice.  "In  a word,  R.  W.,  you  have  no  daughter 
Bella.” 

"No  daughter  Bella,  my  dear?” 

"No.  Your  daughter  Bella,”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer,  with 
a lofty  air  of  never  having  had  the  least  copartnership 
in  that  young  lady:  of  whom  she  now  made  reproach- 
ful mention  as  an  article  of  luxury  which  her  husband 
had  set  up  entirely  on  his  own  account,  and  in  direct 
opposition  to  her  advice:  " — your  daughter  Bella  has 
bestowed  herself  upon  a Mendicant.” 

"Good  gracious,  my  dear!” 

" Show  your  ^father  his  daughter-  Bella’s  letter,  La- 
vinia,”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer,  in  her  monotonous  Act  of  Par- 
liament tone,  and  waving  her  hand.  "I  think  your 
father  will  admit  it  to  be  documentary  proof  of  what  I 
tell  him.  I believe  your  father  is  acquainted  with  his 
daughter  Bella’s  writing.  But  I do  not  know.  He  may 
tell  you  he  is  not.  Nothing  will  surprise  me.” 

" Posted  at  Greenwich,  and  dated  this  morning,” 
said  the  Irrepressible,  flouncing  at  her  father  in  hand- 
ing him  the  evidence.  "Hopes  Ma  won’t  be  angry,  but 
is  happily  married  to  Mr.  John  Rokesmith,  and  didn’t 
mention  it  beforehand  to  avoid  words,  and  please  tell 
darling  you,  and  love  to  me,  and  I should  like  to  know 
what  you’d  have  said  if  any  other  unmarried  member 
of  the  family  had  done  it ! ” 

He  read  the  letter,  and  faintly  exclaimed  " Dear  me!  ” 

"You  may  well  say  Dear  me!”  rejoined  Mrs.  Wilfer, 
in  a deep  tone.  Upon  which  encouragement  he  said  it 
again,  though  scarcely  with  the  success  he  had  expect- 
ed; for  the  scornful  lady  then  remarked,  with  extreme 
bitterness:  "You  said  that  before.” 

" It’s  very  surprising.  But  I suppose,  my  dear,” 
hinted  the  cherub,  as  he  folded  the  letter  after  a dis- 
concerting silence,  "that  we  must  make  the  best  of  it? 
Would  you  object  to  my  pointing  out,  my  dear,  that 
Mr.  John  Rokesmith  is  not  (so  far  as  I am  acquainted 
with  him),  strictly  speaking,  a Mendicant.” 

"Indeed!”  returned  Mrs.  Wilfer,  with  an  awful  air 


CONCERNING  THE  MENDICANT'S  BRIDE.  271 


of  politeness.  Truly  so?  I was  not  aware  that  Mr. 
John  Rokesmith  was  a gentleman  of  landed  property. 
But  I am  much  relieved  to  hear  it.” 

'' J doubt  if  you  have  heard  it,  my  dear,”  the  cherub 
submitted  with  hesitation. 

Thank  you,”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer.  I make  false  state- 
ments, it  appears?  So  be  it.  If  my  daughter  flies  in 
my  face,  surely  my  husband  may.  The  one  thing  is  not 
more  unnatural  than  the  other.  There  seems  a fitness 
m the  arrangement.  By  all  means!”  Assuming,  with 
a shiver  of  resignation,  a deadly  cheerfulness. 

But,  here  the  Irrepressible  skirmished  into  the  con- 
flict, dragging  the  relucant.form  of  Mr.  Sampson  after 
her. 

Ma,”  interposed  the  young  lady,  I must  say  I think 
it  would  be  much  better  if  you  would  keep  to  the  point, 
and  not  hold  forth  about  people’s  flying  into  people’s 
faces,  which  is  nothing  more  nor  less  than  impossible 
nonsense.” 

^^How!”  exclaimed  Mrs.  Wilfer,  knitting  her  dark 
brows. 

‘^Just  im-possible  nonsense,  Ma,”  returned  Lavvy, 
^^and  George  Sampson  knows  it  is,  as  well  as  I do.” 

Mrs.  Wilfer,  suddenly  becoming  petrified,  fixed  her 
indignant  eyes  upon  the  wretched  George  : who,  divid- 
ed between  the  support  due  from  him  to  his  love,  and 
the  support  due  from  him  to  his  love’s  mamma,  sup- 
ported nobody,  not  even  himself. 

The  true  point  is,”  pursued  Lavinia,  that  Bella  has 
behaved  in  a most  unsisterly  way  to  me,  and  might 
have  severely  compromised  me  with  George  and  with 
George’s  family,  by  making  off  and  getting  married  in 
this  very  low  and  disreputable  manner — with  some  pew- 
opener  or  other,  I suppose,  for  a bridesmaid — when  she 
ought  to  have  confided  in  me,  and  ought  to  have  said, 
^ If,  Lavvy^  you  consider  it  due  to  your  engagement 
with  George,  that  you  should  countenance- the  occasion 
by  being  present,  then  Lavvy,  I beg  you  to  he  present, 
keeping  my  secret  from  Ma  and  Pa.’  As  of  course  I 
should  have  done.” 

^A\s  of  course  you  would  have  done?  Ingrate  I”  ex- 
claimed Mrs.  Wilfer.  ^ Wiper  I” 

say!  You  know,  ma’am!  Upon  my  honour  you 
mustn’t!  ” Mr.  Sampson  remonstrated,  shaking  his  head 


272 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


seriously,  the  highest  respect  for  you  ma’am, 

upon  my  life  you  mustn’t.  No,  really,  you  know. 
When  a man  with  the  feelings  of  a gentleman  finds 
himself  engaged  to  a young  lady,  and  it  comes  (even  on 
the  part  of  a member  of  the  family)  to  vipers,  you 
know! — I would  merely  put  it  to  your  own  good  feeling, 
you  know,”  said  Mr.  Sampson,  in  rather  la.me  con- 
clusion. 

Mrs.  Wilfer’s  baleful  stare  at  the  young  gentleman  in 
acknowledgment  of  his  obliging  interference  was  of 
such  a nature  that  Miss  Lavinia  burst  into  tears,  and 
caught  him  round  the  neck  for  his  protection. 

My  own  unnatural  mother,”  screamed  the  young 
lady,  want’s  to  annihilate  George  ! But  you  shan’t 
be  annihilated,  George.  I’ll  die  first  1 ” 

Mr.  Sampson,  in  the  arms  of  his  mistress,  still  strug- 
gled to  shake  his  head  at  Mrs.  Wilfer,  and  to  remark: 

With  every  sentiment  of  respect  for  you,  you  know, 
ma’am — vipers  really  doesn’t  do  you  credit.” 

' Wou  shall  not  be  annihilated,  George  ! ” cried  Miss 
Lavinia.  ^^Ma  shall  destroy  me  first,  and  then  she’ll  be 
contented.  Oh,  oh,  oh  ! Have  I lured  George  from  his 
happy  home  to  expose  him  to  this  ? George,  dear,  be 
free  ! Leave  me,  ever  dearest  George,  to  Ma  and  to  my 
fate.  Give  my  love  to  your  aunt,  George  dear,  and  im- 
plore her  not  to  curse  the  viper  that  has  crossed  your 
path  and  blighted  your  existence.  Oh,  oh,  oh  ! ” The 
young  lady  who,  hysterically  speaking,  was  only  just 
come  of  age,  and  had  never  gone  off  yet,  here  fell  into 
a highly  creditable  crisis,  which,  regarded  as  a first  per- 
formance, was  very  successful;  Mr.  Sampson  bending 
over  the  body  meanwhile,  in  a state  of  distraction, 
which  induced  him  to  address  Mrs.  Wilfer  in  the  incon- 
sistent expressions:  Demon — with  the  highest  respect 
for  you — behold  your  work  ! ” 

The  cherub  stood  helplessly  rubbing  his  chin  and 
looking  on,  but  on  the  whole  was  inclined  to  welcome 
this  diversion  as  one  in  which,  by  reason  of  the  absorb- 
ent properties  of  hysterics,  the  previous  question  would 
become  absorbed.  And  so,  indeed,  it  proved,  for  the 
Irrepressible  gradually  coming  to  herself,  and  asking 
with  wild  emotion,  George  dear,  are  you  safe  ?”  and 
further,  '^George  love,  what  has  happened  ? Where  is 
Ma  ? ” Mr.  Sampson,  with  words  of  comfort,  raised  her 


CONCERNma  THE  MENDICANT’S  BRIDE.  273 

prostrate  form,  and  handed  her  to  Mrs.  Wilfer  as  if  the 
young  lady  were  something  in  the  nature  of  refresh- 
ments. Mrs.  Wilfer  with  dignity  partaking  of  the  re- 
freshments, by  kissing  her  once  on  the  brow  (as  if  ac- 
cepting an  oyster).  Miss  Lavvy,  tottering,  returned  to 
the  protection  of  Mr.  Sampson;  to  whom  she  said, 
George  dear,  I am  afraid  I have  been  foolish;  but  I 
am  still  a little  weak  and  giddy;  don’t  let  go  my  hand, 
George  ! ” And  whom  she  afterwards  greatly  agitated 
at  intervals,  by  giving  utterance,  when  least  expected, 
to  a sound  between  a sob  and  a bottle  of  soda  water, 
that  seemed  to  rend  the  bosom  of  her  frock. 

Among  the  most  remarkable  effects  of  this  crisis  may 
be  mentioned  its  having,  when  peace  was  restored,  an 
inexplicable  moral  influence,  of  an  elevating  kind,  on 
Miss  Lavinia,  Mrs.  Wilfer,  and  Mr.  George  Sampson, 
from  which  R.  W.  was  altogether  excluded,  as  an  out- 
sider and  non-sympathiser.  Miss  Lavinia  assumed  a 
modest  air  of  having  distinguished  herself;  Mrs.  Wil- 
fer, a serene  air  of  forgiveness  and  resignation; 
Mr.  Sampson,  an  air  of  having  been  improved  and 
chastened.  The  influence  pervaded  the  spirit  in  which 
they  returned  to  the  previous  question. 

George  dear,”  said  Lavvy,  with  a melancholy  smile, 
after  what  has  passed,  I am  sure  Ma  will  tell  Pa  that 
he  may  tell  Bella  we  shall  all  be  glad  to  see  her  and  her 
husband.” 

Mr.  Sampson  said  he  was  sure  of  it  too;  murmuring 
how  eminently  he  respected  Mrs.  Wilfer,  and  ever  must, 
and  ever  would.  Never  more  eminently,  he  added, 
than  after  what  had  passed. 

‘‘  Far  be  it  from  me,”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer,  making  a 
deep  proclamation  from  her  corner,  ^^to  run  counter  to 
the  feelings  of  a child  of  mine,  and  of  a Youth,”  Mr. 
Sampson  hardly  seemed  to  like  that  word,  who  is  the 
object  of  her  maiden  preference.  I may  feel — nay, 
know — that  I have  been  deluded  and  deceived.  I may 
feel — nay,  know — that  I have  been  set  aside  and  passed 
over.  I may  feel — nay,  know — that  after  having  so  far 
overcome  my  repugnance  towards  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin 
as  to  receive  them  under  this  roof,  and  to  consent  to 
your  daughter  Bella’s,”  here  turning  to  her  husband, 
residing  under  theirs,  it  were  well  if  your  daughter 
Bella,”  again  turning  to  her  husband,  ^Giad  profited  in 
VOL.  II.  18 


274 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


a worldly  point  of  view  by  a connection  so  distasteful, 
so  disreputable.  I may  feel — nay,  know — that  in  unit- 
ing herself  to  Mr.  Rokesmith  she  has  united  herself  to 
one  who  is,  in  spite  of  shallov/  sophistry,  a Mendicant. 
And  I may  feel  well  assured  that  your  daughter  Bella,’’ 
again  turning  to  her  husband,  ^^does  not  exalt  her 
family  by  becoming  a Mendicant’s  bride.  But  I sup- 
press what  I feel,  and  say  nothing  of  it.” 

Mr.  Sampson  murmured  that  this  was  the  sort  of  thing 
you  might  expect  from  one  who  had  ever  in  her  own 
family  been  an  example  and  never  an  outrage.  And 
ever  more  so  (Mr.  Sampson  added,  with  some  degree  of 
obscurity,)  and  never  more  so,  than  in  and  through 
what  had  passed.  He  must  take  the  liberty  of  adding, 
that  what  was  true  of  the  mother  was  true  of  the  young- 
est daughter,  and  that  he  could  never  forget  the  touch- 
ing feelings  that  the  conduct  of  both  had  awakened 
within  him.  In  conclusion,  he  did  hope  that  there 
wasn’t  a man  with  a beating  heart  who  was  capable  of 
something  that  remained  undescribed,  in  consequence 
of  Miss  Lavinia’s  stopping  him  as  he  reeled  in  his 
speech. 

‘^Therefore,  R.  W.,”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer,  resuming  her 
discourse  and  turning  to  her  lord  again,  ^Het  your 
daughter  Bella  come  when  she  will,  and  she  will  be  re- 
ceived. So,”  after  a ^hort  pause,  and  an  air  of  having 
taken  medicine  in  it,  so  will  her  husband.” 

And  I beg,  Pa,”  said  Lavinia,  ^'that  you  will  not 
tell  Bella  what  I have  undergone.  It  can  do  no 
good,  and  it  might  cause  her  to  reproach  herself.” 

My  dearest  girl,”  urged  Mr.  Sampson,  she  ought 
to  know  it.” 

“No,  George,”  said  Lavinia,  in  a tone  of  resolute 
self-denial.  “No,  dearest  George,  let  it  be  buried  in 
oblivion.” 

Mr.  Sampson  considered  that,  “too  noble.” 

“Nothing  is  too  noble,  dearest  George,”  returned 
Lavinia.  “And,  Pa,  I hope  you  will  be  careful  not  to 
refer  before  Bella,  if  you  can  help  it,  to  my  engagement 
to  George.  It  might  seem  like  reminding  her  of  her 
having  cast  herself  away.  And  I hope.  Pa,  that  you 
will  think  it  equally  right  to  avoid  mentioning  George's 
rising  prospects,  when  Bella  is  present.  It  might  seem 
like  taunting  her  with  her  own  poor  fortunes.  Let  me 


CONCERNING  THE  MENDICANT’S  BRIDE.  275 


ever  remember  that  I am  her  younger  sister,  and  ever 
spare  her  painful  contrasts,  which  could  not  but  wound 
her  sharply.” 

Mr.  Sampson  expressed  his  belief  that  such  was  the 
demeanour  of  Angels.  Miss  Lavvy  replied  with  solem- 
nity, No,  dearest  George,  I am  but  too  well  aware  that 
I am  merely  human.” 

Mrs.  Wilfer,  for  her  part,  still  further  improved 
the  occasion  by  sitting  with  her  eyes  fastened  on  her 
husband,  like  two  great  black  notes  of  interrogation, 
severely  inquiring.  Are  you  looking  into  your*  breast  ? 
Do  you  deserve  your  blessings?  Can  you  lay  your  hand 
upon  your  heart  and  say  that  you  are  worthy  of  so  hys- 
terical a daughter?  I do  not  ask  you  if  you  are  worthy 
of  such  a wife — put  Me  out  of  the  question — but  are  you 
sufficiently  conscious  of,  and  thankful  for,  the  pervad- 
ing moral  grandeur  of  the  family  spectacle  on  which 
you  are  gazing?  These  inquiries  proved  very  harass- 
ing to  R.  W.,  who,  besides  being  a little  disturbed  by 
wine,  was  in  perpetual  terror  of  committing  himself 
by  the  utterance  of  stray  words  that  would  betray  his 
guilty  foreknowledge.  However,  the  scene  being  over, 
and — all  things  considered — well  over,  he  sought 
refuge  in  a doze ; which  gave  his  lady  immense 
offence. 

Can  you  think  of  your  daughter  Bella,  and  sleep?” 
she  disdainfully  inquired. 

To  which  he  mildly  answered,  Yes,  I think  I can, 
my  dear.” 

‘^Then,”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer,  with  solemn  indignation, 

I would  recommend  you,  if  you  have  a human  feeling, 
to  retire  to  bed.” 

Thank  you,  my  dear,”  he  replied;  I think  it  is  the 
best  place  for  me.”  And  with  these  unsympathetic 
words  very  gladly  withdrew. 

Within  a few  weeks  afterwards,  the  Mendicant’s 
bride  (arm-in-arm  with  the  Mendicant)  came  to  tea,  in 
fulfilment  of  an  engagement  made  through  her  father. 
And  the  way  in  which  the  Mendicant’s  bride  dashed 
at  the  unassailable  position  so  considerately  to  be  held 
by  Miss  Lavvy,  and  scattered  the  whole  of  the  works  in 
all  directions  in  a moment,  was  triumphant. 

Dearest  Ma,”  cried  Bella,  running  into  the  room 
with  a radiant  face,  ^^how  do  you  do,  dearest  Ma?” 


276 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


And  then  embraced  her  joyously.  And  Lavvy  dar- 
ling, how  do  you  do,  and  how’s  George  Sampson,  and 
how  is  he  getting  on,  and  when  are  you  going  to  be 
married,  and  how  rich  are  you  going  to  grow?  You 
must  tell  me  all  about  it,  Lavvy  dear,  immediately. 
John,  love,  kiss  Ma  and  Lavvy,  and  then  we  shall  all 
be  at  home  and  comfortable.” 

Mrs.  Wilfer  stared,  but  was  helpless.  Miss  Lavinia 
stared,  but  was  helpless.  Apparently  with  no  com- 
punction, and  assuredly  with  no  ceremony,  Bella  tossed 
her  bonnet  away,  and  sat  down  to  make  the  tea. 

Dearest  Ma  and  Lavvy,  you  both  take  sugar,  I 
know.  And,  Pa  (you  good  little  Pa),  you  don’t  take  milk. 
John  does.  I didn’t  before  I was  married;  but  Ido  now 
because  John  does.  John  dear,  did  you  kiss  Ma  and 
Lavvy?  Oh,  you  did!  Quite  correct,  John  dear;  but  I 
didn’t  see  you  do  it,  so  I asked.  Cut  some  bread  and 
butter,  John;  that’s  a love.  Ma  likes  it  doubled.  And 
now  you  must  tell  me,  dearest  Ma  and  Lavvy,  upon  your 
words  and  honours!  Didn’t  you  for  a moment — just  a 
moment — think  I was  a dreadful  little  wretch  when  I 
wrote  to  say  I had  run  away  ? ” 

Before  Mrs.  Wilfer  could  wave  her  gloves,  the  Mendi- 
cant’s bride  in  her  merriest  affectionate  manner  again 
went  on. 

^'I  think  it  must  have  made  you  rather  cross,  dear 
Ma  and  Lavvy,  and  I know  I deserved  that  you  should 
be  very  cross.  But  you  see  I had  been  such  a heedless, 
heartless  creature,  and  had  led  you  so  to  expect  that  I 
should  marry  for  money,  and  so  to  make  sure  that  I 
was  incapable  of  marrying  for  love,  that  I thought  you 
couldn’t  believe  me.  Because,  you  see,  you  didn't  know 
how  much  of  Good,  Good,  Good  I had  learnt  from  John. 
Well ! So  I was  sly  about  it,  and  ashamed  of  what  you 
supposed  me  to  be,  and  fearful  that  we  couldn’t  under- 
^ stand  one  another,  and  might  come  to  words,  which  we 
should  all  be  sorry  for  afterwards,  and  so  I said  to  John 
that  if  he  liked  to  take  me  without  any  fuss,  he  might. 
And,  as  he  did  like,  I let  him.  And  we  were  married  at 
Greenwich  church  in  the  presence  of  nobody — except 
an  unknown  individual  who  dropped  in,”  here  her  eyes 
sparkled  more  brightly,  ^^and  half  a pensioner.  And 
now,  isn’t  it  nice,  dearest  Ma  and  Lavvy,  to  know  that 
’^o  words  have  been  said  which  any  of  us  can  be  sorry 


CONCERNING  THE  MENDICANT’S  BRIDE.  277 


for,  and  that  we  are  all  the  best  of  friends. at  the  pleas- 
antest of  teas?  ” 

Having  got  up  and  kissed  them  again,  she  slipped 
back  to  her  chair  (after  a loop  on  the  road  to  squeeze  her 
husband  round  the  neck)  and  again  went  on. 

And  now  you  will  naturally  want  to  know,  dearest 
Ma  and  Lavvy,  how  we  live,  and  what  we  have  got  to 
live  upon.  Well.  And  so  we  live  on  Blackheath,  in 
the  charm — ingest  of  dolls’  houses,  de — lightfully  fur- 
nished, and  we  have  a clever  little  servant  who  is  de — 
cidedly  pretty,  and  we  are  economical  and  orderly,  and 
do  everything  by  clockwork,  and  we  have  a hundred 
and  fifty  pounds  a year,  and  we  have  all  we  want,  and 
more.  And  lastly,  if  you  would  like  to  know  in  confi- 
dence, as  perhaps  you  may,  what  is  my  opinion  of  my 
husband,  my  opinion  is — that  I almost  love  him!” 

And  if  you  would  like  to  know  in  confidence,  as 
perhaps  you  may,”  said  her  husband,  smiling,  as  he 
stood  by  her  side,  without  her  having  detected  his  ap- 
proach, my  opinion  of  my  wife,  my  opinion  is ” 

But  Bella  started  up  and  put  her  hand  upon  his  lips. 

. Stop,  sir!  No,  John  dear!  Seriously.  Please  not 
yet  awhile.  I want  to  be  something  so  much  worthier 
than  the  doll  in  the  doll’s  house.” 

My  darling,  are  you  not?  ” 

^^Not  half,  not  a quarter,  so  much  worthier  as  I hope 
you  may  some  day  find  me.  Try  me  through  some  re- 
verse, John — try  me  through  some  trial — and  tell  them 
after  that  what  you  think  of  me.” 

I will,  my  Life,”  said  John.  I promise  it.” 

‘‘That’s  my  dear  John.  And  you  won’t  speak  a word 
now;  will  you?” 

“ And  I won’t,”  said  John,  with  a very  expressive  look 
of  admiration  around  him,  “ speak  a word  now  !” 

She  laid  her  laughing  cheek  upon  his  breast  to  thank 
him,  and  said,  looking  at  the  rest  of  them  sideways  out 
of  her  bright  eyes  : “I’ll  go  further,  Pa  and  Ma  and 
Lavvy.  John  don’t  suspect  it — he  has  no  idea  of  it — 
but  I quite  love  him  ! ” 

Even  Mrs.  Wilfer  relaxed  under  the  infiuence  of  her 
married  daughter,  and  seemed  in  a majestic  manner 
to  imply  remotely  that,  if  R.  W.  had  been  a more  de- 
serving object,  she  too  might  have  condescended  to 
come  down  from  her  pedestal  for  his  beguilement. 


27S 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Miss  Lavinia,  on  the  other  hand,  had  strong  doubts 
of  the  policy  of  the  course  of  treatment,  and  whether 
it  might  not  spoil  Mr.  Sampson  if  experimented  on  in 
the  case  of  that  young  gentleman.  R.  W.  himself 
was,  for  his  part  convinced  that  he  was  father  of  one  of 
the  most  charming  of  girls,  and  that  Rokesmith  was  the 
most  favoured  of  men  ; which  opinion,  if  propounded  to 
him,  Rokesmith  would  probably  not  have  contested. 

The  newly-married  pair  left  early,  so  that  they  might 
walk  at  leisure  to  their  starting-place  from  London  for 
Greenwich.  At  first  they  were  very  cheerful  and 
talked  much  ; but  after  a while  Bella  fancied  her  hus- 
band was  turning  somewhat  thoughtful.  So  she  asked 
him: 

''John,  dear,  what’s  the  matter?” 

" Matter,  my  love?” 

" Won’t  you  tell  me,”  said  Bella,  looking  up  into  his 
face,  what  you  are  thinking  of  ?” 

"There’s  not  much  in  the  thought,  my  soul.  I was 
thinking  whether  you  wouldn’t  like  me  to  be  rich  ? ” 

"You  rich,  John  ?”  repeated  Bella,  shrinking  a little. 

"I  mean,  really  rich.  Say,  as  rich  as  Mr.  Boffin. 
You  would  like  that?” 

"I  should  be  almost  afraid  to  try,  John  dear.  Was  he 
much  the  better  for  his  wealth  ? Was  I much  the  bet- 
ter for  the  little  part  I once  had  in  it  ? ” 

" But  all  people  are  not  the  worse  for  riches,  my  own.” 
"Most  people  ?”  Bella  musingly  suggested,  with  raised 
eyebrows. 

"Nor  even  most  people,  it  may  be  hoped.  If  you  were 
rich,  for  instance,  you  would  have  a great  power  of 
doing  good  to  others.” 

" Yes,  sir,  for  instance,”  Bella  playfully  rejoined  ; "but 
should  I exercise  the  power,  for  instance  ? And  again, 
sir,  for  instance,  should  I,  at  the  same  time,  have  a 
great  power  of  doing  harm  to  myself  ?” 

Laughing  and  pressing  her  arm,  he  retorted  : " But 
still,  again  for  instance : would  you  exercise  that 
power  ? ” 

"I  don’t  know,”  said  Bella,  thoughtfully  shaking  her 
head.  " I hope  not.  I think  not.  But  it’s  so  easy  to 
hope  not  and  think  not,  without  the  riches.” 

"Why  don’t  you  say,  my  darling — instead  of. that 
phrase — being  poor?  ” he  asked,  looking  earnestly  at  her. 


CONCERNING  THE  MENDICANT’S  BRIDE.  ^70 

‘‘Why  don’t  I say,  being  poor!  Because  I am  not 
poor.  Dear  John,  it’s  not  possible  that  you  suppose  I 
think  we  are  poor  ? ” 

“ I do,  my  love.” 

“Oh,  John  1” 

“Understand  me,  sweetheart.  I know  that  I am  rich 
beyond  all  wealth  in  having  you  ; but  I think  of  you, 
and  think  for  you.  In  such  a dress  as  you  are  wearing 
now,  you  first  charmed  me,  and  in  no  dress  could  you 
ever  look,  to  my  thinking,  more  graceful  or  more  beau- 
tiful. But  you  have  admired  many  finer  dresses  this 
very  day  ; and  is  it  not  natural  that  I wish  I could  give 
them  to  you?  ” 

“It’s  very  nice  that  you  should  wish  it,  John.  It 
brings  these  tears  of  grateful  pleasure  into  my  eyes,  to 
hear  you  say  so  with  such  tenderness.  But  I don’t  want 
them.” 

“ Again,”  he  pursued,  “ we  are  now  walking  through 
the  muddy  streets.  I love  those  pretty  feet  so  dearly, 
that  I feel  as  if  I could  not  bear  the  dirt  to  soil  the  sole 
of  your  shoe.  Is  it  not  natural  that  I wish  you-  could 
ride  in  a carriage  ? ” 

“ It’s  very  nice,”  said  Bella,  glancing  downward  at 
the  feet  in  question,  “ to  know  that  you  admire  them  so 
much,  John  deaf,  and  since  you  do,  I am  sorry  that  these 
shoes  are  a full  size  too  large.  But  I don’t  want  a car- 
riage, believe  me.” 

“You  would  like  one  if  you  could  have  one,  Bella  ?” 

“ I shouldn’t  like  it  for  its  own  sake,  half  so  well  as 
such  a wish  for  it.  Dear  John,  your  wishes  are  as  real 
to  me  as  the  wishes  in  the  Fairy  story,  that  were  all  ful- 
filled as  soon  as  spoken.  Wish  me  everything  that  you 
can  Avish  for  the  woman  you  dearly  love,  and  I have 
as  good  as  got  it,  John.  I have  better  than  got  it,  John  ! ” 

They  were  not  the  less  happy  for  such  talk,  and  home 
was  not  the  less  home  for  coming  after  it.  Bella  was 
fast  developing  a perfect  genius  for  home.  All  the 
loves  and  graces  seemed  (her  husband  thought)  to  have 
taken  domestic  service  with  her,  and  to  help  her  to 
make  home  engaging. 

Her  married  life  glided  happily  on.  She  was  alone 
all  day,  for,  after  an  early  breakfast  her  husband  re- 
paired every  morning  to  the  City,  and  did  not  return 
until  their  late  dinner  hour.  He  was  “in  a China  house,” 


280 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


he  explained  to  Bella  ; which  she  found  quite  satisfac- 
tory, without  pursuing  the  China  house  into  minuter 
details  than  a wholesale  vision  of  tea,  rice,  odd-smel- 
ling silks,  carved  boxes,  and  tight-eyed  people  in  more 
than  double-soled  shoes,  with  their  pigtails  pull- 
ing their  heads  of  hair  off,  painted  on  transparent  por- 
celain. She  always  walked  with  her  husband  to  the 
railroad,  and  was  always  there  again  to  meet  him;  her 
old  coquettish  ways  a little  sobered  downfbut  not  much^, 
Ciiid  her  dress  as  daintily  managed  as  it  she  managed 
nothing  else.  But,  John  gone  to  business  and  Bella  re- 
turned home,  the  dress  would  be  laid  aside,  trim  little 
wrappers  and  aprons  would  be  substituted,  andBella  put- 
ting back  her  hair  with  both  hands,  as  if  she  were  m aking 
the  most  business-like  arrangements  for  going  dramatic- 
ally distracted,  would  enter  on  the  ^household  affairs  of 
the  day.  Such  weighing  and  mixing  and  chopping  and 
grating,  such  dusting  and  washing  and  polishing,  such 
snipping  and  weeding  and  trowelling  and  other  small 
gardening,  such  making  and  mending  and  folding  and 
airing,  such  diverse  arrangements,  and  above  all,  such 
severe  study  ! For  Mrs.  J.  R.,  who  had  never  been  wont 
to  do  too  much  at  home  as  Miss  B.  W.,  was  under  the 
constant  necessity  of  referring  for  advice  and  support 
to  a sage  volume  entitled  The  Complete  British  Family 
Housewife,  which  she  would  sit  consulting,  with  her 
elbows  on  the  table  and  her  temples  on  her  hands,  like 
some  perplexed  enchantress  poring  over  the  Black  Art. 
This,  principally  because  the  Complete  British  tlouse- 
wife,  however  sound  a Briton  at  heart,  was  by  no 
means  an  expert  Briton  at  expressing  herself  with  clear- 
ness in  the  British  tongue,  and  sometimes  might  have 
issued  her  directions  to  equal  purpose  in  the  Kam- 
skatchan  language.  In  any  crisis  of  this  nature,  Bella 
would  suddenly  exclaim  aloud,  Oh,  you  ridiculous  old 
thing,  what  do  you  mean  by  that  ? You  must  have 
been  drinking  ! ” And  having  made  this  marginal  note, 
would  try  the  Housewife  again,  with  all  her  dimples 
screwed  into  an  expression  of  profound  research. 

There  was  likewise  a coolness  on  the  part  of  the 
British  Housewife,  which  Mrs.  John  Rokesmith  found 
highly  exasperating.  She  would  say,  Take  a sala- 
mander,” as  if  a general  should  command  a private  to 
catch  a Tartar.  Or  she  would  casually  issue  the  order, 


CONCERNING  THE  MENDICANT’S  BRIDE.  281 


Throw  in  a handful — ” of  something  entirely  unat- 
tainable. In  these,  the  Housewife’s  most  glaring  mo- 
ments of  unreason,  Bella  would  shut  her  up  and  knock 
her  on  the  table,  apostrophising  her  with  the  compli- 
ment, Oh,  you  ARE  a stupid  old  Donkey  ! Where  am 
I to  get  it,  do  you  think  ? ” 

Another  branch  of  study  claimed  the  attention  of 
Mrs.  John  Rokesmith  for  a regular  period  every  day. 
This  was  the  mastering  of  the  newspaper,  so  that  she 
might  be  close  up  with  John  on  general  topics  when 
John  came  Jiome.  In  her  desire  to  be  in  all  things  his 
companion,  she  would  have  set  herself  with  equal  zeal 
to  master  Algebra,  or  Euclid,  if  he  had  divided  his  soul 
between  her  and  either.  Wonderful  was  the  way  in 
which  she  would  store  up  the  City  Intelligence,  and 
beamingly  shed  it  upon  John  in  the  course  of  the  even- 
ing ; incidentally  mentioning  the  commodities  that 
were  looking  up  in  the  markets,  and  how  much  gold 
had  been  taken  to  the  Bank,  and  trying  to  look  wise 
and  serious  over  it  until  she  would  laugh  at  herself 
most  charmingly,  and  would  say,  kissing  him  : It  all 

comes  of  my  love,  John  dear.” 

For  a City  man,  John  certainly  did  appear  to  care  as 
little  as  might  be  for  the  looking  up  or  looking  down  of 
things,  as  well  as  for  the  gold  that  got  taken  to  the 
Bank.  But  he  cared,  beyond  all  expression,  for  his  wife, 
as  a most  precious  and  sweet  commodity  that  was 
always  looking  up,  and  that  never  was  worth  less  tham 
all  the  gold  in  the  world.  And  she,  being  inspired  by 
her  affection,  and  having  a quick  wit  and  a fine  ready 
instinct,  made  amazing  progress  in  her  domestic  effi- 
ciency, though,  as  an  endearing  creature,  she  made  no 
progress  at  all.  This  was  her  husband’s  verdict,  and  he 
justified  it  by  telling  her  that  she  had  begun  her  mar- 
ried life  as  the  most  endearing  creature  that  could 
possibly  be. 

And  you  have  such  a cheerful  spirit?  ” he  said  fondly. 
^Wou  are  like  a bright  light  in  the  house.” 

Am  I truly,  John  ? ” 

Are  you  truly  ? Yes,  indeed.  Only  much  more,  and 
much  better.” 

Do  you  know,  John  dear,”  said  Bella,  taking  him  by 
a button  of  his  coat,  that  I sometimes  at  odd  moments 
don’t  laugh,  John,  please.” 


282 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Nothing  should  induce  John  to  do  it,  when  she  asked 
him  not  to  do  it.  • 

— That  I sometimes  think,  John,  I feel  a little 
serious.” 

Are  you  too  much  alone,  my  darling?” 

Oh  dear  no,  John  ! The  time  is  so  short  that  I have 
not  a moment  too  much  in  the  week.” 

Why  serious,  my  life,  then  ? When  serious  ? ” 

When  I laugh,  I think,”  said  Bella,  laughing  as  she 
laid  her  head  upon  his  shoulder.  ‘Wou  wouldn't  be- 
lieve, sir,  that  I feel  serious  now  ? But  I doj’  And  she 
laughed  again,  and  something  glistened  in  her  eyes. 

''Would  you  like  to  be  rich,  pet  ?”  he  asked  her 
coaxingly. 

"Rich,  John!  How  canjou  ask  such  goose’s  ques- 
tions ? ” 

" Do  you  regret  anything  my  love  ? ” 

" Regret  anything  ? No!”  Bella  confidently  answered. 
But  then,  suddenly  changing,  she  said,  between  laugh- 
ing and  glistening:  "Oh  yes,  I do,  though.  I regret 
Mrs.  Boffin.” 

"I,  too,  regret  that  separation  very  much.  But  per- 
haps it  is  only  temporary.  Perhaps  things  may  so  fall 
out,  as  that  you  may  sometimes  see  her  again — as  that 
we  may  sometimes  see  her  again.”  Bella  might  be  very 
anxious  on  the  subject,  but  she  scarcely  seemed  so  at 
the  moment.  With  an  absent  air  she  was  investigat- 
ing that  button  on  her  husband’s  coat,  when  Pa  came 
in  to  spend  the  evening. 

Pa  had  his  special  chair  and  his  special  corner  re- 
served for  him  on  all  occasions,  and — without  disparage- 
ment of  his  domestic  joys — was  far  happier  there  than 
anywhere.  It  was  always  pleasantly  droll  to  see  Pa 
and  Bella  together:  but  on  this  present  evening  her  hus- 
band thought  her  more  than  usually  fantastic  with  him. 

" You  are  a very  good  little  boy,”  said  Bella, " to  come 
unexpectedly,  as  soon  as  you  could  get  out  of  school. 
And  how  have  they  used  you  at  school  to-day,  you 
dear.” 

" Well,  my  pet,”  replied  the  cherub,  smiling  and 
rubbing  his  hands  as  she  sat  him  down  in  his  chair,  " I 
attend  two  schools.  There’s  the  Mincing  Lane  estab- 
lishment, and  there’s  your  mother’s  Academy.  Which 
might  you  mean,  my  dear?” 


CONCERNING  THE  MENDICANT'S  BRIDE.  283 


''  Both/’  said  Bella. 

Both,  eh?  Why,  to  say  the  truth,  both  have  taken 
a little  out  of  me  to-day,  my  dear,  but  that  was  to  be 
expected.  There’s  no  royal  road  to  learning;  and  what 
is  life  but  learning!  ” 

And  what  do  you  do  with  yourself  when  you  have 
got  your  learning  by  heart,  you  silly  child?  ” 

Why,  then,  my  dear,”  said  the  cherub,  after  a little 
consideration,  I suppose  I die.” 

''You  are  a very  bad  boy,”  retorted  Bella,  "to  talk 
about  dismal  things  and  be  out  of  spirits.” 

" My  Bella,”  rejoined  her  father,  "I  am  not  out  of 
spirits.  I am  as  gay  as  a lark.”  Which  his  face  con- 
firmed. 

" Then  if  you  are  sure  and  certain  it’s  not  you,  I sup- 
pose it  must  be  I,”  said  Bella;  " so  I won’t  do  so  any 
more.  John  dear,  we  must  give  this  little  fellow  his 
supper,  you  know.” 

" Of  course  we  must,  my  darling.” 

" He  has  been  grubbing  and  grubbing  at  school,”  said 
Bella,  looking  at  her  father’s  hand  and  lightly  slapping 
it,  "till  he’s  not  fit  to  be  seen.  Oh,  what  a grubby 
child!” 

" Indeed,  my  dear,”  said  her  father,  " I was  going  to 
ask  to  be  allowed  to  wash  my  hands,  only  you  find  me 
out  so  soon.” 

"Come  here,  sir!”  cried  Bella,  taking  him  by  the 
front  of  his  coat,  " come  here  and  be  washed  directly. 
You  are  not  to  be  trusted  to  do  it  for  yourself.  Come 
here,  sir!” 

The  cherub,  to  his  genial  amusement,  was  accordingly 
conducted  to  a little  washing-room,  where  Bella  soaped 
his  face  and  rubbed  his  face,  and  soaped  his  hands  and 
rubbed  his  hands,  and  splashed  him  and  rinsed  him  and 
towelled  him,  until  he  was  as  red  as  beet-root,  even  to 
his  very  ears:  " Now  you  must  be  brushed  and  combed, 
sir,”  said  Bella,  busily.  " Hold  the  light,  John.  Shut 
your  eyes,  sir,  and  let  me  take  hold  of  your  chin.  Be 
good  directly,  and  do  as  you  are  told!” 

Her  father  being  more  than  willing  to  obey,  she 
dressed  his  hair  in  her  most  elaborate  manner,  brushing 
it  out  straight,  parting  it,  winding  it  over  her  fingers, 
sticking  it  up  on  end,  and  constantly  falling  back  on 
John  to  get  a good  look  at  the  effect  of  it.  Who  always 


284 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND 


received  her  on  his  disengaged  arm,  and  detained 
her,  while  the  patient  cherub  stood  waiting  to  be  fin- 
ished. 

There!’’  said  Bella,  when  she  had  at  last  completed 
the  final  touches.  ^^Now  you  are  something  like  a 
genteel  boy!  Put  your  jacket  on,  and  come  and  have 
your  supper.’" 

The  cherub  investing  himself  with  his  coat  was  led 
back  to  his  corner — where,  but  for  having  no  egotism 
in  his  pleasant  nature,  he  would  have  answered  well 
enough  for  that  radiant  though  self-sufficient  boy.  Jack 
Horner — Bella  with  her  own  hands  laid  a cloth  for  him, 
and  brought  him  his  supper  on  a tray.  Stop  a mo- 
ment,” said  she,  we  must  keep  his  little  clothes  clean;” 
and  tied  a napkin  under  his  chain,  in  a very  methodical 
manner. 

While  he  took  his  supper,  Bella  sat  by  him,  some- 
times admonishing  him  to  hold  his  fork  by  the  handle, 
like  a polite  child,  and  at  other  times  carving  for  him, 
or  pouring  out  his  drink.  Fantastic  as  it  all  was,  and  ac- 
customed as  she  ever  had  been  to  make  a plaything  of 
her  good  father,  ever  delighted  that  she  should  put  him 
to  that  account,  still  there  was  an  occasional  something 
on  Bella’s  part  that  was  new.  It  could  not  be  said  that 
she  was  less  playful,  whimsical,  or  natural,  than  she 
always  had  been;  but  it  seemed,  her  husband  thought, 
as  if  there  were  some  rather  graver  reason  than  he  had 
supposed  for  what  she  had  so  lately  said,  and  as  if, 
throughout  all  this,  there  were  glimpses  of  an  underly- 
ing seriousness. 

It  was  a circumstance  in  support  of  this  view  of  the 
case  that  when  she  had  lighted  her  father’s  pipe,  and 
mixed  him  his  glass  of  grog,  she  sat  down  on  a stool 
between  her  father  and  her  husband,  leaning  her  arm 
upon  the  latter,  and  was  very  quiet.  So  quiet,  that 
when  her  father  rose  to  take  his  leave,  she  looked  round 
with  a start,  as  if  she  had  forgotten  his  being  there. 

' Wou  go  a little  way  with  Pa,  John?” 

^^Yes,  my  dear.  Do  you?” 

I have  not  written  to  Lizzie  Hexam  since  I wrote 
and  told  her  that  I really  had  a lover — a whole  one.  I 
have  often  thought  I would  like  to  tell  her  how  right 
she  was  when  she  pretended  to  read  in  the  live  coals 
that  I would  go  through  fire  and  water  for  him.  I am 


CONCERNING  THE  MENDICANT^S  BRIDE.  285 


in  the  humour  ta  tell  her  so  to-night,  John,  and  I’ll  stay 
at  home  and  do  it.” 

You  are  tired.” 

Not  at  aJl  tired,  John,  dear,  but  in  the  humour  to 
write  to  Lizzie.  Good  night,  dear  Pa.  Good  night, 
vou  dear,  good,  gentle  Pa!” 

I Left  to  herself,  she  sat  down  to  write,  and  wrote  Liz- 
zie a long  letter.  She  had  but  completed  it  and  read  it 
over,  when  her  husband  came  back.  You  are  just  in 
time,  sir,”  said  Bella;  I am  going  to  give  you  your 
first  curtain  lecture.  It  shall  be  a parlour-curtain  lec- 
ture. You  shall  take  this  chair  of  mine  when  I have 
folded  my  letter,  and  I will  take  the  stool  (though  you 
ought  to  take  it,  I can  tell  you,  sir,  if  it’s  the  stool  of 
repentance),  and  you’ll  soon  find  yourself  taken  to  task 
soundly.” 

Her  letter  folded,  sealed,  and  directed,  and  her  pen 
wiped,  and  her  middle  finger  wiped,  and  her  desk  locked 
up  and  put  away,  and  these  transactions  performed  with 
an  air  of  severe  business  sedateness,  which  the  Complete 
British  Housewife  might  have  assumed,  and  certainly 
would  not  have  rounded  off  and  broken  down  in  with  a 
musical  laugh,  as  Bella  did,  she  placed  her  husband  in 
his  chair,  and  placed  herself  upon  her  stool. 

^^Now,  sir!  To  begin  at  the  beginning.  What  is 
your  name?”  . 

A question  more  decidedly  rushing  at  the  secret  he 
was  keeping  from  her  could  not  have  astounded  him. 
But  he  kept  his  countenance  and  his  secret  and  an- 
swered, John  Rokesmith,  my  dear.” 

Good  boy!  Who  gave  you  that  name?” 

With  a returning  suspicion  that  something  might 
have  betrayed  him  to  her,  he  answered,  interrogative- 
ly, My  godfathers  and  my  godmothers,  dear  love?” 

‘^Pretty  good  !”  said  Bella.  ^^Notgoodest  good,  be- 
cause you  hesitate  about  it.  However,  as  you  know 
your  Catechism  fairly,  so  far.  I’ll  let  you  off  the  rest. 
Now,  I am  going  to  examine  you  out  of  my  own  head. 
John  dear,  why  did  you  go  back,  this  evening,  to  the 
question  you  once  asked  me  before — would  I like  to 
be  rich  ? ” 

Again,  his  secret  ! He  looked  down  at  her  as  she 
looked  up  at  him,  with  her  hands  folded  on  his  knee, 
and  it  was  as  nearly  told  as  ever  secret  was. 


286  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

Having  no  reply  ready,  he  could  d9  no  better  than 
embrace  her. 

^Hn  short,  dear  John,’’  said  Bella,  ^“^tliis  is  the  topic 
of  my  lecture:  I want  nothing  on  earth,  and  I want  you 
to  believe  it.”  • 

If  that’s  all,  the  lecture  may  be  considered  over,  for 
I do.” 

It’s  not  all,  John  dear,”  Bella  hesitated.  It’s  only 
Firstly.  There’s  a dreadful  Secondly,  and  a dreadful 
Thirdly  to  come — as  I used  to  say  to  myself  in  sermon- 
time when  I was  a very  small-sized  sinner  at  church.” 

‘^Let  them  come,  my  dearest.” 

Are  you  sure,  John  dear;  are  you  absolutely  certain 
in  your  innermost  heart  of  hearts ? ” 

Which  is  not  in  my  keeping,”  he  rejoined. 

^^No,  John,  but  the  key  is. — Are  you  absolutely  cer- 
tain that  down  at  the  bottom  of  that  heart  of  hearts, 
which  you  have  given  to  me  as  I have  given  mine  to 
you,  there  is  no  remembrance  that  I was  once  very 
mercenary  ?” 

“ Why,  if  there  were  no  remembrance  in  me  of  the 
time  you  speak  of,”  he  softly  asked  her  with  his  lips  to 
hers,  could  I love  you  quite  as  well  as  I do;  could  I 
have  in  the  Calendar  of  my  life  the  brightest  of  its  days; 
could  I.  whenever  I look  at  your  dear  face  or  hear  your 
dear  voice,  see  and  hear  my  noble  champion  ? It  can 
never  have  been  that  which  made  you  serious,  dar- 
ling ? ” 

^'No,  John,  it  wasn’t  that,  and  still  less  was  it  Mrs. 
Boffin,  though  I love  her.  Wait  a moment,  and  I’ll  go 
on  with  the  lecture.  Give  me  a moment,  because  I 
like  to  cry  for  joy.  It’s  so  delicious,  John  dear,  to 
cry  for  joy.” 

She  did  so  on  his  neck,  and  still  clinging  there, 
laughed  a little  when  she  said,  think  I am  ready 
now  for  Thirdly,  John.” 

am  ready  for  Thirdly,”  said  John,  ^‘^whatever  it  is.” 
believe,  John,”  pursued  Bella,  ‘^that  you  believe 
that  I believe ” 

‘^My  dear  child,”  cried  her  husband  gaily,  ^Avhat  a 
quantity  of  believing!” 

Isn’t  there?”  said  Bella,  with  another  laugh. 
never  knew  such  a quantity!  It’s  like  verbs  in  an  exer- 
cise. But  I can’t  get  on  with  less  believing.  I’ll  try 


CONCERNING  THE  MENDICANT’S  BRIDE.  287 


again.  I believe,  dear  John,  that  you  believe  that  I be- 
lieve that  we  have  as  much  money  as  we  require,  and 
that  we  want  for  nothing.” 

‘‘It  is  strictly  true,  Bella.” 

But  if  our  money  should  by  any  means  be  rendered 
not  so  much — if  we  had  to  stint  ourselves  a little  in 
purchases  that  we  can  afford  to  make  now — would  you 
still  have  the  same  confidence  in  my  being  quite  con- 
tented, John?” 

Precisely  the  same  confidence,  my  soul.” 

Thank  you,  John  dear,  thousands  upon  thousands 
of  times.  And  I may  take  it  for  granted,  no  doubt,” 
with  a little  faltering,  ^Ghat  you  would  be  quite  as  con- 
tented yourself,  John  ? But  yes  I know  I may.  For, 
knowing  that  I should  be  so,  how  surely  I may  know 
that  you  would  be  so;  you  who  are  so  much  stronger, 
and  firmer,  and  more  reasonable  and  more  generous, 
than  I am.” 

^^Hush!”  said  her  husband,  “1  must  not  hear  that. 
You  are  all  wrong  there,  though  otherwise  as  right  as 
can  be.  And  now  I am  brought  to  a little  piece  of  news, 
my  dearest,  that  I might  have  told  you  earlier  in  the 
evening.  I have  strong  reason  for  confidently  believ- 
ing that  we  shall  never  be  in  the  receipt  of  a smaller 
income  than  our  present  income.” 

She  might  have  shown  herself  more  interested  in  the 
intelligence;  but  she  had  returned  to  the  investigation 
of  the  coat-button  that  had  engaged  her  attention  a 
few  hours  before,  and  scarcely  seemed  to  heed  what  he 
said. 

‘‘And  now  we  have  got  to  the  bottom  of  it  at  last,” 
cried  her  husband,  rallying  her,  “ and  this  is  the  thing 
that  made  you  serious?” 

“ No,  dear,”  said  Bella,  twisting  the  button  and  shak- 
ing her  head,  “it  wasn’t  this.” 

“ Why,  then.  Lord  bless  this  little  wife  of  mine,  there’s 
a Fourthly!”  exclaimed  John. 

“ This  worried  me  a little,  and  so  did  Secondly,”  said 
Bella,  occupied  with  the  button,  but  it  was  quite  an- 
other sort  of  seriousness — a much  deeper  and  quieter 
sort  of  seriousness — that  I spoke  of,  John  dear.” 

As  he  bent  his  face  to  hers,  she  raised  hers  to  meet 
it,  and  laid  her  little  right  hand  on  his  eyes,  and  kept 
it  there. 


288 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


‘‘Do  you  remember,  John,  on  the  day  we  were  mar- 
ried, Pa’s  speaking  of  the  ships  that  might  be  sailing 
towards  us  from  the  unknown  seas?” 

“ Perfectly,  my  darling  ! ” 

“ I think  .....  among  them there  is 

a ship  upon  the  ocean bringing  . . • . to  you 

and  me a little  baby,  John.” 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A CRY  FOR  HELP. 

n^HE  Paper  Mill  had  stopped  work  for  the  night,  and 
JL  the  paths  and  roads  in  its  neighbourhood  were 
sprinkled  with  clusters  of  people  going  home  from  their 
day’s  labour  in  it.  There  were  men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren in  the  groups,  and  there  was  no  want  of  lively 
colour  to  flutter  in  the  gentle  evening  wind.  The  ming- 
ling of  various  voices  and  the  sound  of  laughter  Hiade 
a cheerful  impression  upon  the  ear,  analogous  to  that 
of  the  fluttering  colours  upon  the  eye.  Into  the  sheet 
of  water  reflecting  the  flushed  sky  in  the  foreground  of 
the  living  picture,  a knot  of  urchins  were  casting  stones, 
and  watching  the  expansion  of  the  rippling  circles.  So, 
in  the  rosy  evening,  one  might  watch  the  ever-widen- 
ing beauty  of  the  landscape — beyond  the  newly-released 
workers  wending  home — beyond  the  silver  river — be- 
yond the  deep  green  flelds  of  corn,  so  prospering,  that 
the  loiterers  in  their  narrow  threads  of  pathway  seemed 
to  float  immersed  breast-high — beyond  the  hedgerows 
and  the  clumps  of  trees — beyond  the  windmills  on  the 
; ridge — away  to  where  the  sky  appeared  to  meet  the 
earth,  as  if  there  were  no  immensity  of  space  between 
mankind  and  Heaven. 

It  was  a Saturday  evening,  and  at  such  a time  the  vil- 
lage dogs,  always  much  more  interested  in  the  doings 
of  humanity  than  in  the  affairs  of  their  own  species,  were 
particularly  active.  At  the  general  shop,  at  the  butch- 
er’s and  at  the  public-house,  they  evinced  an  inquiring 
spirit  never  to  be  satiated.  Their  especial  interest  in 


A CRY  FOR  HELP. 


289 


the  public-house  would  seem  to  imply  some  latent 
rakishness  in  the  canine  character;  for  little  was  eaten 
there,  and  they,  having  no  taste  for  beer  or  tobacco 
(Mrs.  Hubbard’s  dog  is  said  to  have  smoked,  but  proof 
is  wanting),  could  only  have  been  attracted  by  sym- 
pathy with  loose  convivial  habits.  Moreover,  a most 
wretched  fiddle  played  within;  a fiddle  so  unutterably 
vile,  that  one  lean  long-bodied  cur,  with  a better  ear 
than  the  rest,  found  himself  under  compulsion  at  in- 
tervals to  go  round  the  corner  and  howl.  Yet  even 
he  returned  to  the  public-house  on  each  occasion  with 
the  tenacity  of  a confirmed  drunkard. 

Fearful  to  relate,  there  was  even  a sort  of  little  Fair 
in  the  village.  Some  despairing  gingerbread  that  had 
been  vainly  trying  to  dispose  of  itself  all  over  the 
country,  and  had  cast  a quantity  of  dust  upon  its  head 
in  its  mortification,  again  appealed  to  the  public  from 
an  infirm  booth.  So  did  a heap  of  nuts,  long,  long  ex- 
iled from  Barcelona,  and  yet  speaking  English  so  indif- 
ferently as  to  call  fourteen  of  themselves  a pint.  A 
Peep-show  which  had  originally  started  with  the  Battle 
of  Waterloo,  and  had  since  made  it  every  other  battle  of 
later  date  by  altering  the  Duke  of  Wellington’s  nose, 
tempted  the  student  of  illustrated  history.  A Fat  Lady, 
perhaps  in  part  sustained  upon  postponed  pork,  her  pro- 
fessional associate  being  a Learned  Pig,  displayed  her 
life-size  picture  in  a‘  low  dress  as  she  appeared  when 
presented  at  Court,  several  yards  round.  All  this  was 
a vicious  spectacle  as  any  poor  idea  of  amusement  on 
the  part  of  the  rougher  hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of 
water  in  this  land  of  England  ever  is  and  shall  be. 
They  must  not  vary  the  rheumatism  with  amusement. 
Tliey  may  vary  it  with  fever  and  ague,  or  with  as  many 
rheumatic  variations  as  they  have  joints  ; but  positively 
not  with  entertainment  after  their  own  manner. 

The  various  sounds  arising  from  this  scene  of  de- 
pravity, and  fioating  away  into  the  still  evening  air, 
made  the  evening,  at  any  point  which  they  just  reached 
fitfully,  mellowed  by  the  distance,  more  still  by  contrast. 
Such  was  the  stillness  of  the  evening  to  Eugene  Wray- 
burn,  as  he  walked  by  the  river  with  his  hands  behind 
him. 

He  walked  slowly,  and  with  the  measured  step  and 
preoccupied  air  of  one  who  was  waiting.  He  walked 
VOL.  n 1 9 


290 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


between  the  two  points,  an  osier  bed  at  this  end  and 
some  floating  lilies  at  that,  and  at  each  point  stopped 
and  looked  expectantly  in  one  direction. 

“It  is  very  quiet,”  said  he. 

It  was  very  quiet.  Some  sheep  were  grazing  on  the 
grass  by  the  river-side,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  he 
had  never  before  heard  the  crisp  tearing  sound  with 
which  they  cropped  it.  He  stopped  idly,  and  looked 
at  them. 

“You  are  stupid  enough,  I suppose.  But,  if  you  are 
clever  enough  to  get  through  life  tolerably  to  your  satis- 
faction, you  have  got  the  better  of  me,  Man  as  I am, 
and  Mutton  as  you  are  ! ” 

A rustle  in  a field  beyond  the  hedge  attracted  his  at- 
tention. “What’s  here  to  do?”  he  asked  himself, 
leisurely  going  towards  the  gate  and  looking  over. 
“No  jealous  paper-miller  ? No  pleasures  of  the  chase 
in  this  part  of  the  country  ? Mostly  fishing  here- 
abouts ! ” 

The  field  had  been  newly  mown,  and  there  were  yet 
the  marks  of  the  scythe  on  the  yellow  green  ground, 
and  the  track  of  wheels  where  the  hay  had  been  car- 
ried. Following  the  tracks  with  his  eyes,  the  view 
closed  with  the  new  hayrick  in  a corner. 

Now,  if  he  had  gone  on  to  the  hayrick,  and  gone 
round  it  ? But,  say  that  the  event  was  to  be  as  the 
event  fell  out,  and  how  idle  are  such  suppositions ! 
Besides,  if  he  had  gone  ; what  is  there  of  warning  in  a 
Bargeman  lying  on  his  face  ? 

“ A bird  flying  to  the  hedge,”  was  all  he  thought  about 
it ; and  came  back,  and  resumed  his  walk. 

“ If  I had  not  a reliance  on  her  being  truthful,”  said 
Eugene,  after  taking  some  half-dozen  turns,  “ I should 
begin  to  think  she  had  given  me  the  slip  for  the  second 
time.  But  she  promised,  and  she  is  a girl  of  her 
word.” 

Turning  again  at  the  water-lilies,  he  saw  her  coming, 
and  advanced  to  meet  her. 

“ I was  saying  to  myself,  Lizzie,  that  you  were  sure 
to  come,  though  you  were  late.” 

“ I had  to  linger  through  the  village  as  if  I had  no 
object  before  me,  and  I had  to  speak  to  several  people 
in  passing  along,  Mr.  Wrayburn.” 

“Are  the  lads  of  the  village — and  the  ladies — such 


A CRY  FOR  HELP. 


291 


scandal-mongers  ? ” he  asked,  as  he  took  her  hand  and 
drew  it  through  his  arm. 

She  submitted  to  walk  slowly  on  with  downcast  eyes. 
He  put  her  hand  to  his  lips,  and  she  quietly  drew  it 
away. 

“Will  you  walk  beside  me,  Mr.  Wrayburn,  and  not 
touch  me  ? ” For,  his  arm  was  already  stealing  round 
her  waist. 

She  stopped  again,  and  gave  him  an  earnest  suppli- 
cating look.  “Well,  Lizzie,  well!”  said  he  in  an  easy 
way,  though  ill  at  ease  with  himself,  “ don’t  be  un- 
happy, don’t  be  reproachful.” 

“ I cannot  help  being  unhappy,  but  I do  not  mean  to  be 
reproachful.  Mr.  Wrayburn,  I implore  you  to  go  away 
from  this  neighbourhood  to-morrow  morning.” 

“Lizzie,  Lizzie,  Lizzie!”  he  remonstrated.  “As  well 
be  reproachful  as  wholly  unreasonable.  I can’t  go 
away.” 

“ Why  not?  ” 

“ Faith !”  said  Eugene  in  his  airily  candid  manner. 
“ Because  you  won’t  let  me.  Mind!  I don’t  mean  to  be 
reproachful  either.  I don’t  complain  that  you  design 
to  keep  me  here.  But  you  do  it,  you  do  it.” 

“Will  you  walk  beside  me,  and  not  touch  me.”  for 
his  arm  was  coming  about  her  again;  “ while  I speak 
to  you  very  seriously,  Mr.  Wrayburn?” 

“ I will  do  anything  within  the  limits  of  possibility,  for 
you,  Lizzie,”  he  answered  with  pleasant  gaiety  as  he 
folded  his  arms,  “ See  here!  Napoleon  Buonaparte  at 
St.  Helena.” 

“ When  you  spoke  to  me  as  I came  from  the  Mill  the 
night  before  last,”  said  Lizzie,  fixing  her  eyes  upon  him 
with  th^  look  of  supplication  which  troubled  his  better 
nature,  “you  told  me  that  you  were  much  surprised  to 
see  me,  and  that  you  were  on  a solitary  fishing  excur- 
sion. Was  it  true?” 

“It  was  not,”  replied  Eugene  composedly,  “in  the 
least  true.  I came  here  because  I had  information  that 
I should  find  you  here.” 

“Can  you  imagine  why  I left  London,  Mr.  Wray- 
burn?” 

“ I am  afraid,  Lizzie,”  he  openly  answered,  “ that 
you  left  London  to  get  rid  of  me.  It  is  not  flattering  to 
my  self-love,  but  I am  afraid  you  did.” 


m OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


I did.” 

How  could  you  be  so  cruel?” 

'^Oli,  Mr.  Wrayburn,”  she  answered,  suddenly  break- 
ing into  tears,  '^is  the  cruelty  on  my  side!  Oh,  Mr. 
Wrayburn,  Mr.  Wrayburn,  is  there  no  cruelty  in  your 
being  here  to-night!  ” 

^Hn  the  name  of  all  that’s  good — and  that  is  not  con- 
juring you  in  my  own  name,  for  Heaven  knows  I am 
not  good” — said  Eugene,  don’t  be  distressed!” 

What  else  can  1 be,  when  I know  the  distance  and 
the  difference  between  us?  What  else  can  I be,  when 
to  tell  me  why  you  came  here  is  to  put  me  to  shame ! ” 
said  Lizzie,  covering  her  face. 

He  looked  at  her  with  a real  sentiment  of  remorseful 
tenderness  and  pity.  It  was  not  strong  enough  to  im- 
pel him  to  sacrifice  himself  and  spare  her,  but  it  was  a 
strong  emotion. 

Lizzie!  I never  thought  before  that  there  was  a 
woman  in  the  world  who  could  affect  me  so  much  by 
saying  so  little.  But  don’t  be  hard  in  your  construc- 
tion of  me.  You  don’t  know  what  my  state  of  mind  to- 
wards you  is.  You  don’t  know  how  you  haunt  me  and 
bewilder  me.  You  don’t  know  how  the  cursed  care- 
lessness that  is  over-officious  in  helping  me  at  every 
other  turning  of  my  life,  won’t  help  me  here.  You  have 
struck  it  dead,  I think,  and  I sometimes  almost  wish 
you  had  struck  me  dead  along  with  it.” 

She  had  not  been  prepared  for  such  passionate  ex- 
pressions, and  they  awakened  some  natural  sparks  of 
feminine  pride  and  joy  in  her  breast.  To  consider, 
wrong  as  he  was,  that  he  could  care  so  much  for  her, 
and  that  she  had  the  power  to  move  him  so! 

^Ht  grieves  you  to  see  me  distressed,  Mr.  Wcayburn; 
it  grieves  me  to  see  you  distressed.  I don’t  reproach 
you.  Indeed,  I don’t  reproach  you.  You  have  not  felt 
this  as  I feel  it,  being  so  different  from  me,  and  begin- 
ning from  another  point  of  view.  You  have  not  thought. 
But  I entreat  you  to  think  now,  think  now!” 

What  am  I to  think  of?”  asked  Eugene,  bitterly. 

Think  of  me.” 

Tell  me  how  not  to  think  of  you,  Lizzie,  and  you’ll 
change  me  altogether.” 

''  I don’t  mean  in  that  way.  Think  of  me  as  belong- 
ing to  another  station,  and  quite  cut  off  from  you  in 


A CRY  FOR  HELP. 


293 


honour.  Remember  that  I have  no  protector  near  me, 
unless  I have  one  in  your  noble  heart.  Respect  my  good 
name.  If  you  feel  towards  me,  in  one  particular,  as 
you  might  if  I was  a lady,  give  me  the  full  claims  of  a 
lady  upon  your  generous  behaviour.  I am  removed 
from  you  and  your  family  by  being  a working  girl. 
Ho  w true  a gentleman  to  be  as  considerate  of  me  as  if 
I was  removed  by  being  a Queen ! ” 

He  would  have  been  base  indeed  to  have  stood  un- 
touched by  her  appeal.  His  face  expressed  contrition 
and  indecision  as  he  asked: 

^^Have  I injured  you  so  much,  Lizzie  ?” 

No,  no.  You  may  set  me  quite  right.  I don’t  speak 
of  the  past,  Mr.  Wrayburn,  but  of  the  present  and  the 
future.  Are  we  not  here  now,  because  through  two 
days  you  have  followed  me  so  closely  where  there  are 
so  many  eyes  to  see  you,  that  I consented  to  this  ap- 
pointment as  an  escape  ?” 

Again  not  very  flattering  to  my  self-love,”  said 
Eugene,  moodily;  but  yes.  Yes.  Yes.” 

''Then  I beseech  you,  Mr.  Wrayburn,  I beg  and  pray 
you,  leave  this  neigbourhood.  If  you  do  not,  consider 
to  what  you  will  drive  me.” 

He  did  consider  within  himself  for  a moment  or  two, 
and  then  retorted.  "Drive  you  ! To  what  shall  I drive 
you,  Lizzie  ? ” 

"You  will  drive  me  away.  I live  here  peacefully 
and  respected,  and  I am  well  employed  here.  You  will 
force  me  to  quit  this  place  as  I quitted  London,  and — 
by  following  me  again — will  force  me  to  quit  the  next 
place  in  which  I may  And  refuge,  as  I quitted  this.” 

" Are  you  so  determined,  Lizzie — forgive  the  word  I 
am  going  to  use,  for  it’s  literal  truth — to  fly  from  a 
lover  ? ” 

"I  am  so  determined,”  she  answered  resolutely, 
though  trembling,  "to  fly  from  such  a lover.  There 
was  a poor  woman  died  here  but  a little  while  ago, 
scores  of  years  older  than  I am,  whom  I found  by 
chance,  lying  on  the  wet  earth.  You  may  have  heard 
some  account  of  her  ? ” 

"I  think  I have,”  he  answered,  "if  her  name  was 
Higden.” 

" Her  name  was  Higden.  Though  she  was  so  weak 
and  old,  she  kept  true  to  one  purpose  to  the  very  last. 


394 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Even  at  the  very  last,  she  made  me  promise  that  her 
purpose  should  be  kept  to,  after  she  was  dead,  so  settled 
was  her  determination.  What  she  did,  I can  do.  Mr. 
Wrayburn,  if  I believed — but  I do  not  believe — that  you 
could  be  so  cruel  to  me  as  to  drive  me  from  place  to 
place  to  wear  me  out,  you  should  drive  me  to  death  and 
not  do  it.^’ 

He  looked  full  at  her  handsome  face,  and  in  his  own 
handsome  face  there  was  a light  of  blended  admiration, 
anger  and  reproach,  which  she — who  loved  him  so  in 
secret — whose  heart  had  long  been  so  full,  and  he  the 
cause  of  its  overflowing — drooped  before.  She  tried 
hard  to  retain  her  firmness,  but  he  saw  it  melting  away 
under  his  eyes.  In  the  moment  of  its  dissolution,  and 
of  his  first  full  knowledge  of  his  influence  upon  her 
she  dropped,  and  he  caught  her  on  his  arm. 

Lizzie!  Rest  so  a moment.  Answer  what  I ask 
you.  If  I had  not  been  what  you  call  removed  from  you 
and  cut  off  from  you,  would  you  have  made  this  appeal 
to  me  to  leave  you  ? ” 

I don't  know,  I don’t  know.  Don’t  ask  me,  Mr. 
Wrayburn.  Let  me  go  back.” 

I swear  to  you,  Lizzie,  you  shall  go  directly.  I swear 
to  you,  you  shall  go  alone.  I’ll  not  accompany  you.  I’ll 
not  follow  you,  if  you  will  reply.” 

^^How  can  I,  Mr.  Wrayburn  ? How  can  I tell  you 
what  I should  have  done,  if  you  had  not  been  what  you 
are  ? ” 

If  I had  not  been  what  you  make  me  out  to  be,”  he 
struck  in,  skilfully  changing  the  form  of  words,  would 
you  still  have  hated  me  ? ” 

Oh,  Mr.  Wrayburn,”  she  replied  appealingly,  and 
weeping,  ^^you  know  me  better  than  to  think  I do!  ” 

If  I had  not  been  what  you  make  me  out  to  be, 
Lizzie,  would  you  still  have  been  indifferent  to  me  ? ” 

Oh,  Mr.  Wrayburn,”  she  answered  as  before,  ^^you 
know  me  better  than  that  too!” 

There  was  something  in  the  attitude  of  her  whole 
figure  as  he  supported  it,  and  she  hung  her  head,  which 
besought  him  to  be  merciful  and  not  force  her  to  dis- 
close her  heart.  He  was  not  merciful  with  her,  and  he 
made  her  do  it. 

If  I know  you  better  than  quite  to  believe  (unfort- 
unate dog  though  I am  !)  that  you  hate  me,  or  even  that 


A CRY  FOR  HELP. 


295 


you  are  wholly  indifferent  to  me,  Lizzie,  let  me  know  so 
much  more  from  yourself  before  we  separate.  Let  me 
know  how  you  would  have  dealt  with  me  if  you  had  re- 
garded me  as  being  what  you  would  have  considered 
on  equal  terms  with  you.” 

^Ht  is  impossible,  Mr.  Wrayburn.  How  can  I think 
of  you  as  being  on  equal  terms  with  me?  If  my  mind 
could  put  you  on  equal  terms  with  me,  you  could  not  be 
yourself.  How  could  I remember,  then,  the  night  when 
I first  saw  you,  and  when  I went  out  of  the  room  be- 
cause you  looked  at  me  so  attentively  ? Or,  the  night 
that  passed  into  the  morning  when  you  broke  to  me  that 
my  father  was  dead  ? Or,  the  nights  when  you  used 
to  come  to  see  me  at  my  next  home  ? Or,  your  having 
known  how  uninstructed  I was,  and  having  caused  me 
to  be  taught  better?  Or,  my  having  so  looked  up  to 
you  and  wondered  at  you,  and  at  first  thought  you 
so  good  to  be  at  all  mindful  of  me?” 

''Only  'at  first’  thought  me  so  good,  Lizzie  ? What 
did  you  think  me  after  ' at  first  ’ ? So  bad  ? ” 

" I don’t  say  that.  I don’t  mean  that.  But  after  the 
first  wonder  and  pleasure  of  being  noticed  by  one  so 
different  from  any  one  who  had  ever  spoken  to  me,  I 
began  to  feel  that  it  might  have  been  better  if  I had 
never  seen  you.” 

"Why?” 

" Because  you  were  so  different,’'  she  answered  in  a 
lower  voice.  "Because  it  was  so  endless,  so  hopeless. 
Spare  me  ! ” 

"Did  you  think  for  me  at  all,  Lizzie  ?”  he  asked,  as 
if  he  were  a little  stung. 

"Not  much,  Mr.  Wrayburn.  Not  much  until  to- 
night.” 

"Will  you  tell  me  why  ? ” 

" I never  supposed  until  to-night  that  you  needed  to 
be  thought  for.  But  if  you  do  need  to  be  ; if  you  do 
truly  feel  at  heart  that  you  have  indeed  been  towards 
me  what  you  have  called  yourself  to-night,  and  that 
there  is  nothing  for  us  in  this  life  but  separation  ; then 
Heaven  help  you,  and  Heaven  bless  you  ! ” 

The  purity  with  which  in  these  words  she  expressed 
something  of  her  own  love  and  her  own  suffering, 
made  a deep  impression  on  him  for  the  passing  time. 
He  held  her,  almost  as  if  she  were  sanctified  to  him  by 


296 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


death,  and  kissed  her,  once,  almost  as  he  might  have 
kissed  the  dead. 

''I  promised  that  I would  not  accompany  you,  nor 
follow  you.  Shall  I keep  you  in  view  ? You  have 
been  agitated,  and  it’s  growing  dark.” 

I am  used  to  be  out  alone  at  this  hour,  and  I en- 
treat you  not  to  do  so.” 

I promise.  I can  bring  myself  to  promise  nothing 
more  to-night,  Lizzie,  except  that  I will  try  what  I can 
do.” 

There  is  but  one  means,  Mr.  Wrayburn,  of  sparing 
yourself  and  of  sparing  me,  every  way.  Leave  this 
neighbourhood  to-morrow  morning.” 

I will  try.” 

As  he  spoke  the  words  in  a grave  voice,  she  put  her 
hand  in  his,  removed  it,  and  went  away  by  the  river- 
side. 

^‘Now,  could  Mortimer  believe  this?”  murmured  Eu- 
gene, still  remaining,  after  a while,  where  she  had  left 
him.  Can  I even  believe  it  myself?  ” 

He  referred  to  the  circumstance  that  there  were  tears 
upon  his  hand,  as  he  stood  covering  his  eyes.  ^‘^A 
most  ridiculous  position  this,  to  be  found  out  in  ! ” was 
his  next  thought.  And  his  next  struck  its  root  in  a 
little  rising  resentment  against  the  cause  of  the  tears. 

^^Yet  I have  gained  a wonderful  power  over  her, 
too,  let  her  be  as  much  in  earnest  as  she  will  ! ” 

The  reflection  brought  back  the  yielding  of  her  face 
and  form  as  she  had  drooped  under  his  gaze.  Contem- 
plating the  reproduction,  he  seemed  to  see,  for  the 
second  time,  in  the  appeal  and  in  the  confession  of 
weakness,  a little  fear. 

^/And  she  loves  me.  And  so  earnest  a character 
must  be  very  earnest  in  that  passion.  She  cannot 
choose  for  herself  to  be  strong  in  this  fancy,  wavering 
in  that,  and  weak  in  the  other.  She  must  go  through 
with  her  nature,  as  I must  go  through  with  mine.  If  mine 
exacts  its  pains  and  penalties  all  round,  so  must  hers,  I 
suppose.” 

Pursuing  the  inquiry  into  his  own  nature,  he  thought, 

Now,  if  I married  her.  If,  outfacing  the  absurdity 
of  the  situation  in  correspondence  with  M.  R.  F. , I as- 
tonished M.  R.  F.,  to  the  utmost  extent  of  his  respected 
powers  by  informing  him  that  I had  married  her,  how 


A CRY  FOR  HELP. 


297 


Would  M.  R.  P.  reason  with  the  legal  mind?  'You 
wouldn’t  marry  for  some  money  and  some  station  be- 
cause you  were  frightfully  likely  to  become  bored. 
Are  you  less  frightfully  likely  to  become  bored,  marry- 
ing for  rfo  money  and  no  station  ? Are  you  sure  of 
yourself  ? ’ Legal  mind,  in  spite  of  forensic  protesta- 
tions, must  secretly  admit,  'Good  reasoning  on  the 
part  of  M.  R.  F.  Not  sure  of  myself.’” 

In  the  very  act  of  calling  this  tone  of  levity  to  his 
aid,  he  felt  it  to  be  profligate  and  worthless,  and  assert- 
ed her  against  it. 

"And  yet,”  said  Eugene,  "I  should  like  to  see  the 
fellow  (Mortimer  excepted)  who  would  undertake  to 
tell  me  that  this  was  not  a real  sentiment  on  my  part, 
won  out  of  me  by  her  beauty  and  her  worth,  in  spite  of 
myself,  and  that  I would  not  be  true  to  her.  I should 
particularly  like  to  see  the  fellow  to-night  who  would 
tell  me  so,  or  who  would  tell  me  anything  that  could  be 
construed  to  her  disadvantage  ; for  I am  wearily  out  of 
sorts  with  one  Wrayburn  who  cuts  a sorry  flgure,  and 
I would  far  rather  be  out  of  sorts  with  someb^ody  else. 
'Eugene,  Eugene,  Eugene,  this  is  a bad  business.’  Ah! 
So  go  the  Mortimer  Lightwood  bells,  and  they  sound 
melancholy  to-night.” 

Strolling  on,  he  thought  of  something  else  to  take 
himself  to  task  for.  "Where  is  the  analogy.  Brute 
Beast,”  he  said  impatiently,  "between  a woman  whom 
your  father  coolly  flnds  out  for  you  and  a woman  whom 
you  have  found  out  for  yourself,  and  have  ever  drifted 
after  with  more  and  more  of  constancy  since  you  first 
set  eyes  upon  her  ? Ass  ! Can  you  reason  no  better 
than  that  ? ” 

But,  again  he  subsided  into  a reminiscence  of  his  first 
full  knowledge  of  his  power  just  now,  and  of  her  dis- 
closure of  her  heart.  To  try  no  more  to  go  away,  and 
to  try  her  again,  was  the  reckless  conclusion  it  turned 
'uppermost.  And  yet  again,  " Eugene,  Eugene,  Eugene, 
this  is  a bad  business  ! ” And,  " I wish  I could  stop  the 
Lightwood  peal,  for  it  sounds  like  a knell.” 

Looking  above,  he  found  that  the  young  moon  was 
up,  and  that  the  stars  were  beginning  to  shine  in  the 
sky  from  which  the  tones  of  red  and  yellow  were  flick- 
ering out,  in  favour  of  the  calm  blue  of  a summer  night. 
He  was  still  by  the  river-side.  Turning  suddenly,  he 


298 


OUR  MUTUAL  URIEND. 


met  a man,  so  close  upon  him  that  Eugene,  surprised, 
stepped  back,  to  avoid  a collision.  The  man  carried 
something  over  his  shoulder  which  might  have  been  a 
broken  oar,  or  spar,  or  bar,  and  took  no  notice  of  him, 
but  passed  on.  • 

'^Halloa,  friend,’’  said  Eugene,  calling  after  him, 

are  you  blind  ?^’ 

The  man  made  no  reply,  but  went  his  way. 

Eugene  Wrayburn  went  the  opposite  way,  with  his 
hands  behind  him  and  his  purpose  in  his  thoughts.  He 
passed  the  sheep,  and  passed  the  gate,  and  came  within 
hearing  of  the  village  sounds,  and  came  to  the  bridge. 
The  inn  where  he  stayed,  like  the  village  and  the  mill, 
was  not  across  the  river,  but  on  that  side  of  the  stream 
on  which  he  walked.  However,  knowing  the  rushy 
bank  and  the  backwater  on  the  other  side  to  be  a re- 
tired place,  and  feeling  out  of  humour  for  noise  or  com- 
pany, he  crossed  the  bridge,  and  sauntered  on  : looking 
up  at  the  stars  as  they  seemed  one  by  one  to  be  kindled 
in  the  sky,  and  looking  down  at  the  river  as  the  same 
stars  seemed  to  be  kindled  deep  in  the  water.  A land- 
ing- place  overshadowed  by  a willow,  and  a pleasure- 
boat  lying  moored  there  among  some  stakes,  caught  his 
eye  as  he  passed  along.  The  spot  was  in  such  dark 
shadow  that  he  paused  to  make  out  what  was  there, 
and  then  passed  on  again. 

The  rippling  of  the  river  seemed  to  cause  a corre- 
spondent stir  in  his  uneasy  reflections.  He  would  have 
laid  them  asleep  if  he  could.,  but  they  were  in  movement, 
like  the  stream,  and  all  tending  one  way  with  a strong 
current.  As  the  ripple  under  the  moon  broke  unex- 
pectedly now  and  then,  and  palely  flashed  in  a new 
shape  and  with  a new  sound,  so  parts  of  his  thoughts 
started,  unbidden,  from  the  rest,  and  revealed  their 
wickedness.  Out  of  the  question  to  marry  her,”  said 
Eugene,  and  out  of  the  question  to  leave  her.  The 
crisis!  ” 

He  had  sauntered  far  enough.  Before  turning  to 
retrace  his  steps,  he  stopped  upon  the  margin,  to  look 
down  at  the  reflected  night.  In  an  instant,  with  a 
dreadful  crash,  the  reflected  night  turned  crooked,  flames 
shot  jaggedly  across  the  air,  and  the  moon  and  stars 
came  bursting  from  the  sky. 

Was  he  struck  by  lightning?  With  some  incoherent 


A CRY  FOR  HELP. 


299 


half-formed  thought  to  that  effect,  he  turned  under  the 
blows  that  were  blinding  him  and  mashing  his  life, 
and  closed  with  a murderer,  whom  he  caught  by  a red 
neckerchief — unless  the  raining  down  of  his  own  blood 
gave  it  that  hue. 

Eugene  was  light,  active,  and  expert;  but  his  arms 
were  broken,  or  he  was  paralyzed,  and  could  do  no 
more  than  hang  on  to  the  man,  with  his  head  swung 
back,  so  that  he  could  see  nothing  but  the  heaving  sky. 
After  dragging  at  the  assailant,  he  fell  on  the  bank 
with  him,  and  then  there  was  another  great  crash,  and 
then  a splash,  and  all  was  done. 

Lizzie  Hexam,  too,  had  avoided  the  noise,  and  the 
Saturday  movement  of  people  in  the  straggling  street, 
and  chose  to  walk  alone  by  the  water  until  her  tears 
should  be  dry,  and  she  could  so  compose  herself  as  to 
escape  remark  upon  her  looking  ill  or  unhappy  on  going 
home.  The  peaceful  serenity  of  the  hour  and  place, 
having  no  reproaches  or  evil  intentions  within  her  breast 
to  contend  against,  sank  healingly  into  its  depths.  She 
had  meditated  and  taken  comfort.  She,  too,  was  turn- 
ing homeward,  when  she  heard  a strange  sound. 

It  startled  her,  for  it  was  like  a sound  of  blows.  She 
stood  still,  and  listened.  It  sickened  her,  for  blows  fell 
heavily  and  cruelly  on  the  quiet  of  the  night.  As  she 
listened,  undecided,  all  was  silent.  As  she  yet  listened, 
she  heard  a faint  groan,  and  a fall  into  the  river. 

Her  old  bold  life  and  habit  instantly  inspired  her. 
Without  vain  waste  of  breath  in  crying  for  help  where 
there  were  none  to  hear,  she  ran  towards  the  spot  from 
which  the  sounds  had  come.  It  lay  between  her  and 
the  bridge,  but  it  was  more  removed  from  her  than  she 
had  thought;  the  night  being  so  very  quiet,  and  sound 
travelling  far  with  the  help  of  water. 

At  length,  she  reached  a part  of  the  green  bank, 
much  and  newly  trodden,  where  there  lay  some  broken 
splintered  pieces  of  wood  and  some  torn  fragments  of 
clothes.  Stooping,  she  saw  that  the  grass  was  bloody. 
Following  the  drops  and  smears,  she  saw  that  the  watery 
margin  of  the  bank  was  bloody.  Following  the  current 
with  her  eyes,  she  saw  a bloody  face  turned  up  towards 
the  moon,  and  drifting  away. 

Now,  merciful  Heaven  be  thanked  for  that  old  time, 
and  grant,  O Blessed  Lord,  that  through  thy  wonderful 


300 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


workings  it  may  turn  to  good  at  last!  To  whom- 
soever the  drifting  face  belongs,  be  it  man’s  or  woman’s, 
help  my  humble  hands,  Lord  God,  to  raise  it  from 
death  and  restore  it  to  some  one  to  whom  it  must  be 
dear! 

It  was  thought,  fervently  thought,  but  not  for  a 
moment  did  the  prayer  check  her.  S^he  was  away  before 
it  welled  up  in  her  mind,  away,  swift  and  true,  yet 
steady  above  all — for  without  steadiness  it  could  never 
be  done — to  the  landing-place  under  the  willow-tree, 
where  she  also  had  seen  the  boat  lying  moored  among  the 
stakes. 

A sure  touch  of  her  old  practised  hand,  a sure  step  of 
her  old  practised  foot,  a sure  light  balance  of  her  body, 
and  she  Avas  in  the  boat.  A quick  glance  of  her  prac- 
tised eye  showed  her,  even  through  the  deep  dark 
shadow,  the  sculls  in  a rack  against  the  red-brick  gar- 
den-wall. Another  moment,  and  she  had  cast  off  (tak- 
ing the  line  with  her),  and  the  boat  had  shot  out  into 
the  moonlight,  and  she  was  rowing  down  the  stream  as 
never  other  woman  rowed  on  English  water. 

Intently  over  her  shoulder,  without  slackening  speed, 
she  looked  ahead  for  the  driving  face.  She  passed  the 
scene  of  the  struggle— yonder  it  was,  on  her  left,  well 
over  the  boat’s  stern — she  passed  on  her  right,  the  end 
of  the  village  street,  a hilly  street  that  almost  dipped 
into  the  river;  its  sounds  were  growing  faint  again,  and 
she  slackened;  looking  as  the  boat  drove,  everywhere, 
everywhere,  for  the  floating  face. 

She  merely  kept  the  boat  before  the  stream  now,  and 
rested  on  her  oars,  knowing  well  that  if  the  face  were 
not  soon  visible,  it  had  gone  down,  and  she  would  over- 
shoot it.  An  untrained  sight  would  never  have  seen  by 
the  moonlight  what  she  saw  at  the  length  of  a few 
strokes  astern.  She  saw  the  drowning  figure  rise  to 
the  surface,  slightly  struggle,  and  as  if  by  instinct  turn 
over  on  its  back  to  float.  Just  so  had  she  first  dimly 
seen  the  face  which  she  now  dimly  saw  again. 

Firm  of  look  and  firm  of  purpose,  she  intently  watched 
its  coming  on,  until  it  was  very  near;  then,  with  a touch 
unshipped  her  sculls,  and  crept  aft  in  the  boat,  between 
kneeling  and  crouching.  Once,  she  let  the  body  evade 
her,  not  being  sure  of  her  grasp.  Twice,  and  she  had 
seized  it  by  it’s  bloody  hair. 


A CRY  FOK  HELP. 


301 


It  was  insensible,  if  not  virtually  dead;  it  was  muti- 
lated, and  streaked  the  water  all  about  it  with  dark  red 
streaks.  As  it  could  not  help  itself,  it  was  impossible 
for  her  to  get  it  on  board.  She  bent  over  the  stern  to  se- 
cure it  with  the  line,  and  then  the  river  and  its  shores 
rang  to  the  terrible  cry  she  uttered. 

But,  as  if  possessed  by  supernatural  spirit  and  strength, 
she  lashed  it  safe,  resumed  her  seat,  and  rowed  in,  des- 
perately, for  the  nearest  shallow  water  where  she  might 
run  the  boat  aground.  Desperately,  but  not  wildly,  for 
she  knew  that  if  she  lost  distinctness  of  intention,  all 
was  lost  and  gone. 

She  ran  the  boat  ashore,  went  into  the  water,  released 
him  from  the  line,  and  by  main  strength  lifted  him  in 
her  arms  and  laid  him  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat.  He 
had  fearful  wounds  upon  him,  and  she  bound  them  up 
with  her  dress  torn  into  strips.  Else,  supposing  him  to 
be  still  alive,  she  foresaw  that  he  must  bleed  to  death 
before  he  could  be  landed  at  his  inn,  which  was  the 
nearest  place  for  succour. 

This  done  very  rapidly,  she  kissed  his  disfigured  fore- 
head, looked  up  in  anguish  to  the  stars,  and  blessed  him 
and  forgave  him,  if  she  had  anything  to  forgive.’’  It 
was  only  in  that  instant  that  she  thought  of  herself, 
and  then  she  thought  of  herself  only  for  him. 

Kow,  merciful  Heaven  be  thanked  for  that  old  time, 
enabling  me,  without  a wasted  moment,  to  have  got  the 
boat  afloat  again,  and  to  row  back  against  the  stream  ! 
And  grant  O,  Blessed  Lord  God,  that  through  poor  me 
he  may  be  raised  from  death,  and  preserved  to  some 
one  else  to  whom  he  maybe  dear  one  day,  though  never 
dearer  than  to  me  ! ^ 

She  rowed  hard — rowed  desperately,  but  never  wildly 
— and  seldom  removed  her  eyes  from  him  in  the  bottom 
of  the  boat.  She  had  so  laid  him  there,  as  that  she 
might  see  his  disfigured  face;  it  was  so  much  disfigured 
that  his  mother  might  have  covered  it,  but  it  was  above 
and  beyond  disfigurement  in  her  feyes. 

The  boat  touched  the  edge  of  the  patch  of  inn  lawn, 
sloping  gently  to  the  water.  There  were  lights  in  the 
windows,  but  there  chanced  to  be  no  one  out  of  doors. 
She  made  the  boat  fast,  and  again  by  main  strength 
took  him  up,  and  never  laid  him  down  until  she  laid 
him  down  in  the  house. 


302 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Surgeons  were  sent  for^  and  she  sat  supporting  his 
head.  She  had  oftentimes  heard  in  days  that  were  gone, 
how  doctors  would  lift  the  hand  of  an  insensible 
wounded  person,  and  would  drop  it  if  the  person  were 
dead.  She  waited  for  the  awful  moment  when  the 
doctors  might  lift  this  hand,  all  broken  and  bruised,  and 
let  it  fall. 

The  first  of  the  surgeons  came,  and  asked,  before 
proceeding  to  his  examination,  Who  brought  him 
in  ? 

I brought  him  in  sir,^’  answered  Lizzie,  at  whom 
all  present  looked. 

You,  my  dear  ? You  could  not  lift,  far  less  carry, 
this  weight.” 

‘^1  think  I could  not,  at  another  time,  sir;  but  I am 
sure  I did.” 

The  surgeon  looked  at  her  with  great  attention,  and 
with  some  compassion.  Having  with  a grave  face 
touched  the  wounds  upon  the  head,  and  the  broken  arms, 
he  took  the  hand. 

Oh  ! would  he  let  it  drop  ? 

He  appeared  irresolute.  He  did  not  retain  it,  but  laid 
it  gently  down,  took  a candle,  looked  more  closely  at 
the  injuries  on  the  head,  and  at  the  pupils  of  the  eyes. 
That  done,  he  replaced  the  candle  and  took  the  hand 
again.  Another  surgeon  then  coming  in,  the  two  ex- 
changed a whisper,  and  the  second  took  the  hand. 
Neither  did  he  let  it  fall  at  once,  but  kept  it  for  a while 
and  laid  it  gently  down. 

Attend  to  the  poor  girl,”  said  the  first  surgeon  then. 

She  is  quite  unconscious.  She  sees  nothing  and  hears 
nothing.  All  the  better  for  her  ! Don’t  rouse  her,  if  you 
can  help  it ; only  move  her.  Poor  girl,  poor  girl  ! She 
must  be  amazingly  strong  of  heart,  but  it  is  much  to  be 
feared  that  she  has  set  her  heart  upon  the  dead.  Be 
gentle  with  her.” 


BETTER  TO  BE  ABEL  THAN  CAIN. 


303 


CHAPTER  VII. 


BETTER  TO  BE  ABEL  THAN  CAIN. 

Day  was  breaking  at  Plash  water  Weir-Mill  Lock. 

Stars  were  yet  visible,  but  there  was  dull  light  in 
the  east  that  was  not  the  light  of  night.  The  moon  had 
gone  down,  and  a mist  had  crept  along  the  banks  of  the 
river,  seen  through  which  the  trees  were  the  ghosts  pf 
trees,  and  the  water  was  the  ghost  of  water.  This  earth 
looked  spectral,  and  so  did  the  pale  stars ; while  the 
cold  eastern  glare,  expressionless  as  to  heat  or  colour, 
with  the  eye  of  the  firmament  quenched,  might  have 
been  likened  to  the  stare  of  the  dead. 

Perhaps  it  was  so  likened  by  the  lonely  Bargeman, 
standing  on  the  brink  of  the  Lock.  For  certain,  Bradley 
Headstone  looked  that  way,  when  a chill  air  came  up, 
and  when  it  passed  on  murmuring,  as  if  it  whispered 
something  that  made  the  phantom  trees  and  water  trem- 
ble— or  threaten — for  fancy  might  have  made  it  either. 

He  turned  away,  and  tried  the  Lock-house  door.  It 
was  fastened  on  the  inside. 

Is  he  afraid  of  me  ?”  he  muttered,  knocking. 

Rogue  Riderhood  was  soon  roused,  and  soon  undrew 
the  bolt  and  let  him  in. 

Why,  T’otherest,  I thought  you  had  been  and  got 
lost ! Two  nights  away  ! I a’most  believed  as  you’d 
giv’  me  the  slip,  and  I had  as  good  as  half  a mind  for  to 
advertise  you  in  the  newspapers  to  come  for’ard.” 

Bradley’s  face  turned  so  dark  on  this  hint,  that  Rider- 
hood  deemed  it  expedient  to  soften  it  into  a compli- 
irient. 

But  not  you,  governor,  not  you,”  he  went  on,  stolidly 
shaking  his  head.  For  what  did  I say  to  myself  arter 
halving  amused  myself  with  that  there  stretch  of  a comic 
idea,  as  a sort  of  a playful  game?  Why,  I says  to 
myself,  ^He’s  a man  o’  honour.’  That’s  what  I says  to 
myself.  ^ He’s  a man  o’  double  honour.  ’ ” 

Very  remarkably,  Riderhood  put  no  question  to  him. 
He  had  looked  at  him  on  opening  the  door,  and  he  now 
Icoked  at  him  again  (stealthily  this  time),  and  the 


304  OUR  MUTUAL  PRIENt). 

result  of  his  looking  was^,  that  he  asked  him  no  ques- 
tion. 

You’ll  be  for  another  forty  on  ’em,  governor,  as  I 
judges,  afore  you  turns  your  mind  to  breakfast,”  said 
Riderhood,  when  his  visitor  sat  down,  resting  his  chin 
on  his  hand,  with  his  eyes  on  the  ground.  And  very 
•remarkably  again:  Riderhood  feigned  to  set  the  scanty 
furniture  in  order,  while  he  spoke,  to  have  a show  of 
reason  for  not  looking  at  him. 

‘^Yes.  I had  better  sleep,  I think,”  said  Bradley, 
without  changing  his  position. 

I myself  should  recommend  it,  governor,”  assented 
Riderhood.  Might  you  be  anyways  dry?  ” 

^^Yes.  I should  like  a drink,”  said  Bradley;  but 
without  appearing  to  attend  much. 

Mr.  Riderhood  got  out  his  bottle,  and  fetched  his  jug- 
full  of  water,  and  administered  a potation.  Then,  he 
shook  the  coverlet  of  his  bed  and  spread  it  smootk,  and 
Bradley  stretched  himself  upon  it  in  the  clothes  he 
wore.  Mr.  Riderhood  poetically  remarking  that  he 
would  pick  the  bones  of  his  night’s  rest,  in  his  wooden 
chair,  sat  in  the  window  as  before;  but,  as  before, 
watched  tho  sleeper  narrowly  until  he  was  very  sound 
asleep.  Then,  he  rose  and  looked  at  him  close,  in  Ihe 
bright  daylight,  on  every  side,  with  great  minuteness. 
He  went  out  to  his  Lock  to  sum  up  what  he  had  seen. 

One  of  his  sleeves  is  tore  right  away  below  the  elber, 
and  the  t’other’s  had  a good  rip  at  the  shoulder.  He’s 
been  hung  on  to,  pretty  tight,  for  his  shirt’s  all  tore  out 
of  the  neck  gathers.  He’s  been  in  the  grass  and  he’s 
been  in  the  water.  And  he’s  spotted,  and  I know  with 
what,  and  with  whose.  Hooroar.” 

Bradley  slept  long.  Early  in  the  afternoon  a barge 
came  down.  Other  barges  had  passed  through,  boih 
ways,  before  it;  but  the  Lock-keeper  hailed  only  this 
particular  barge,  for  news,  as  if  he  had  made  a time 
calculation  with  some  nicety.  The  men  on  board  tdd 
him  a piece  of  news,  and  there  was  a lingering  on  their 
part  to  enlarge  upon  it. 

Twelve  hours  had  intervened  since  Bradley’s  lyiig 
down,  when  he  got  up.  ^^Hot  that  I swaller  it,” 
said  Riderhood,  squinting  at  his  Lock,  when  he  saw 
Bradley  coming  out  of  the  house,  ''as  you’ve  been  a 
sleeping  all  the  time,  old  boy!” 


BETTER  TO  BE  ABEL  THAN  CAIN. 


305 


Bradley  came  to  him,  sitting  on  his  wooden  lever, 
and  asked  what  o’clock  it  was?  Riderhood  told  him  it 
was  between  two  and  three. 

When  are  you  relieved?”  asked  Bradley. 

Day  arter  to-morrow,  governor.” 

^^Not  sooner?” 

^^Not  an  inch  sooner,  governor.” 

On  both  sides,  importance  seemed  attached  to  this 
question  of  relief.  Riderhood  quite  petted  his  reply; 
saying  a second  time,  and  prolonging  a negative  roll  of 
his  head,  — n — not  an  inch  sooner,  governor.” 

^^Did  I tell  you  I was  going  on  to-night?”  asked 
Bradley.  • 

^‘No,  governor,”  returned  Riderhood,  in  a cheerful, 
affable,  and  conversational  manner,  You  did  not  tell 
me  so.  But  most  like  you  meant  to  it,  and  forgot  to  it. 
How,  otherways,  could  a doubt  have  come  into  your 
head  about  it,  governor?” 

‘^As  the  sun  goes  down,  I intend  to  go  on,”  said 
Bradley. 

So  much  the  more  necessairy  is  a Peck,”  returned 
Riderhood.  ^^Come  in  and  have  it,  T’otherest.” 

The  formality  of  spreading  a tablecloth  not  being  ob- 
served in  Mr.  Riderhood’s  establishment,  the  serving  of 
the  ‘^peck  ” was  the  affair  of  a moment;  it  merely  con- 
sisting in  the  handing  down  of  a capacious  baking  dish 
with  three-fourths  of  an  immense  meat  pie  in  it,  and 
the  production  of  two  pocket-knives,  an  earthenware 
mug,  and  a large  brown  bottle  of  beer. 

Both  ate  and  drank,  but  Riderhood  much  the  more 
abundantly.  In  lieu  of  plates,  that  honest  man  cut  two 
triangular  pieces  from  the  thick  crust  of  the  pie,  and 
laid  them,  inside  uppermost,  upon  the  table:  the  one  be- 
fore himself,  and  the  other  before  his  guest.  Upon 
these  platters  he  placed  two  goodly  portions  of  the  con- 
tents of  the  pie,  thus  imparting  the  unusual  interest  to 
the  entertainment  that  each  partaker  scooped  out  the 
inside  of  his  plate,  and  consumed  it  with  his  other  fare, 
besides  having  the  sport  of  pursuing  the  clots  of  con- 
gealed gravy  over"  the  plain  of  the  table,  and  success-  * 
fully  taking  them  into  his  mouth  at  last  from  the  blade 
of  his  knife,  in  case  of  their  not  first  sliding  off  it. 

Bradley  Headstone  was  so  remarkably  awkward  at 
these  exercises  that  the  Rogue  observed  it. 

VOL.  II.  20 


306 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Look  out,  T’otherest  ! he  cried,  you’ll  cut  your 
hand.” 

But  the  caution  came  too  late,  for  Bradley  gashed  it 
at  the  instant.  And  what  was  more  unlucky,  in  asking 
Riderhood  to  tie  it  up,  and  in  standing  close  to  him  for 
the  purpose,  he  shook  his  hand  under  the  smart  of  the 
wound,  and  shook  blood  over  Riderhood’s  dress. 

When  dinner  was  done,  and  when  what  remained  of 
the  platters,  and  what  remained  of  the  congealed  gravy 
had  been  put  back  into  what  remained  of  the  pie,  which 
served  as  an  economical  investment  for  all  miscella- 
neous savings , Riderhood  filled  the  mug  with  beer  and 
took  a long  drink.  And  now  he  did  lool#  at  Bradley, 
and  with  an  evil  eye. 

T’otherest,”  he  said,  hoarsely,  as  he  bent  across  the 
table  to  touch  his  arm.  The  news  has  gone  down  the 
river  afore  you.” 

What  news?  ” 

^^Who  do  you  think? ’’said  Riderhood,  with  a hitch 
of  his  head,  as  if  disdainfully  jerked  the  feint  away, 

picked  up  the  body.  Guess.” 

I am  not  good  at  guessing  anything.” 

She  did.  Hooroar  ! You  had  him  there  again.  She 
did.” 

The  convulsive  twitching  of  Bradley  Headstone’s 
face,  and  the  sudden  hot  humour  that  broke  out  upon  it, 
showed  how  grimly  the  intelligence  touched  him.  But 
he  said  not  a single  word,  good  or  bad.  He  only 
smiled  in  a lowering  manner,  and  got  up  and  stood 
leaning  at  the  window,  looking  through  it.  Riderhood 
followed  him  with  his  eyes.  Riderhood  cast  down  his 
eyes  on  his  own  besprinkled  clothes.  Riderhood  began 
to  have  an  air  of  being  better  at  a guess  than  Bradley 
owned  to  being. 

I have  been  so  long  in  want  of  rest,”  said  the  school- 
master, ^Ghat  with  your  leave  I’ll  lie  down  again.” 

And  welcome,  T’otherest,”  was  the  hospitable  an- 
swer of  his  host.  He  had  laid  himself  down  without 
waiting  for  it,  and  he  remained  upon  the  bed  until  the 
- sun  was  low.  When  he  arose  and  came  out  to  resume 
his  journey,  he  found  his  host  waiting  for  him  on  the 
grass  by  the  towing-path  outside  the  door. 

Whenever  it  may  be  necessary  that  you  and  I 
should  have  any  further  communication  together,” 


BETTER  TO  BE  ABEL  THAN  CAIN. 


307 


said  Bradley,  will  come  back.  Good  night!” 

Well,  since  no  better  can  be,”  said  Riderhood,  turn- 
ing on  his  heel,  ‘^Goodnight!”  But  he  turned  again 
as  the  other  set  forth,  and  added  under  his  breath,  look- 
ing after  him  with  a leer  : ^Wou  wouldn’t  be  let  to  go 
like  that,  if  my  Relief  warn^t  as  good  as  come.  I’ll 
catch  yqu  up  in  a mile.” 

In  a word,  his  real  time  of  relief  being  that  evening 
at  sunset,  his  mate  came  lounging  in,  within  a quarter 
of  an  hour.  Not  staying  to  fill  up  the  utmost  margin 
of  his  time,  but  borrowing  an  hour  or  so,  to  be  repaid 
again  when  he  should  relieve  his  reliever,  Riderhood 
straightway  followed  on  the  track  of  Bradley  Head- 
stone. 

He  was  a better  follower  than  Bradley.-  It  had  been 
the  calling  of  his  life  to  slink  and  skulk  and  dog  and 
waylay,  and  he  knew  his  calling  well.  He  effected 
such  a forced  march  on  leaving  the  Lock  House  that 
he  was  close  up  with  him — that  is  to  say,  as  close  up 
with  him  as  he  deemed  it  convenient  to  be — before  an- 
other Lock  was  passed.  His  man  looked  back  pretty 
often  as  he  went,  but  got  no  hint  of  him.  He  knew 
how  to  take  advantage  of  the  ground,  and  where  to  put 
the  hedge  between  them,  and  where  the  wall,  and 
when  to  duck,  and  when  to  drop,  and  had  a thousand 
arts  beyond  the  doomed  Bradley’s  slow  conception. 

But,  all  his  arts  were  brought  to  a standstill,  like 
himself,  when  Bradley,  turning  into  a green  lane  or 
riding  by  the  river-side — a solitary  spot  run  wild  in 
nettles,  briars,  and  brambles,  and  encumbered  with  the 
scathed  trunks  of  a whole  hedgerow  of  felled  trees,  on 
the  outskirts  of  a little  wood — began  stepping  on  these 
trunks  and  dropping  down  among  them  and  stepping 
on  them  again,  apparently  as  a schoolboy  might  have 
done,  but  assuredly  with  no  schoolboy  purpose,  or  want 
of  purpose. 

What  are  you  up  to?”  muttered  Riderhood,  down  in 
the  ditch,  and  holding  the  hedge  a little  open  with  both 
hands.  And  soon  his  actions  made  a most  extraordi- 
nary reply.  ^^By  George  and  the  Draggin!”  cried 
Riderhood,  ^Gf  he  ain’t  a going  to  bathe  I” 

He  had  passed  back,  on  and  among  the  trunks  of 
trees  again,  and  had  passed  on  to  the  water-side,  and 
had  begun  undressing  on  the  grass.  For  a moment  it 


308 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


had  a supicious  look  of  suicide,  arranged  to  counterfeit 
accident.  ^^But  you  wouldn’t  have  fetched  a bundle 
under  your  arm,  from  among  that  timber,  if  such  was 
your  game!”  said  Riderhood.  Nevertheless  it  was  a 
relief  to  him  when  the  bather  after  a plunge  and 
a few  strokes  came  out.  ^^For  I shouldn’t,”  he  said  in 
^ feeling  manner,  ^Oiave  liked  to  lose  you  till  I had  more 
money  out  of  you  neither.” 

Prone  in  another  ditch  (he  had  changed  his  ditch  as 
his  man  had  changed  his  position),  and  holding  apart 
so  small  a patch  of  the  hedge  that  the  sharpest  eyes 
could  not  have  detected  him,  Rogue  Riderhood  watched 
the  bather  dressing.  And  now  gradually  came  the 
wonder  that  he  stood  up,  completely  clothed,  another 
man,  and  not  the  Bargeman. 

Aha  !”  said  Riderhood.  Much  as  you  was  dressed 
that  night.  I see.  You’re  a taking  me  with  you,  now. 
You’re  deep.  But  I knows  a deeper.” 

When  the  bather  had  finished  dressing,  he  kneeled  on 
the  grass,  doing  something  with  his  hands,  and  again 
stood,  up  with  his  bundle  under  his  arm.  Looking  all 
around  him  with  great  attention,  he  then  went  to  the 
river’s  edge,  and  flung  it  in  as  far,  and  yet  as  lightly  as 
he  could.  It  was  not  until  he  was  so  decidedly  upon 
his  way  again  as  to  be  beyond  a bend  of  the  river  and 
for  the  time  out  of  view,  that  Riderhood  scrambled 
from  the  ditch. 

Now,”  was  his  debate  with  himself,  shall  I foller 
you  on,  or  shall  I let  you  loose  for  this  once,  and  go  a 
fishing  ?”  The  debate  continuing,  he  followed,  as  a 
precautionary  measure  in  any  case,  and  got  him  again 
in  sight.  If  I was  to  let  you  loose  this  once,”  said 
Riderhood  then,  still  following,  I could  make  you 
come  to  me  again,  or  I could  find  you  out  in  one  way  or 
another.  If  I wasn’t  to  go  a fishing,  others  might. — I’ll 
let  you  loose  this  once,  and  go  a fishing  I ” With  that, 
he  suddenly  dropped  the  pursuit  and  turned. 

The  miserable  man  whom  he  had  released  for  the 
time,  but  not  for  long,  went  on  towards  London.  Brad- 
ley was  suspicious  of  every  sound  he  heard,  and  of  every 
face  he  saw,  but  was  under  a spell  which  very  com- 
monly falls  upon  the  shedder  of  blood,  and  had  no  sus- 
picion of  the  real  danger  that  lurked  in  his  life,  and 
would  have  it  yet.  Riderhood  was  much  in  his  thoughts 


BETTER  TO  BE  ABEL  THAN  CAIN. 


309 


— had  never  been  out  of  his  thoughts  since  the  night 
adventure  of  their  first  meeting ; but  Riderhood  occu- 
pied a very  different  place  there,  from  the  place  of  pur- 
suer ; and  Bradley  had  been  at  the  pains  of  devising  so 
many  means  of  fitting  that  place  to  him,  and  of  wedging 
him  into  it,  that  his  mind  could  not  compass  the  possi- 
bility of  his  occupying  any  other.  And  this  is  another 
spell  against  which  the  shedder  of  blood  for  ever  strives 
in  vain.  There  are  fifty  doors  by  which  discovery  may 
enter.  With  infinite  pains  and  cunning,  he  double 
locks  and  bars  forty -nine  of  them,  and  cannot  see  the 
fiftieth  standing  wide  open. 

Now,  too,  was  he  cursed  with  a state  of  mind  more 
wearing  and  more  wearisome  than  remorse.  He  had 
no  remorse;  but  the  evil-doer  who  can  hold  that  aven- 
ger at  bay,  cannot  escape  the  slower  torture  of  inces- 
santly doing  the  evil  deed  again  and  doing  it  more 
efficiently.  In  the  defensive  declarations  and  pretend- 
ed confessions  of  murderers,  the  pursuing  shadow  of 
this  torture  may  be  traced  through  every  lie  they  tell. 
If  I had  done  it  as  alleged,  is  it  conceivable  that  I 
would  have  made  this  and  this  mistake  ? If  I had  done 
it  as  alleged,  should  I have  left  that  unguarded  place 
which  that  false  and  wicked  witness  against  me  so  in- 
famously deposed  to?  The  state  of  that  wretch  who 
continually  finds  the  weak  spots  in  his  own  crime,  and 
strives  to  strengthen  them  when  it  is  unchangeable,  is 
a state  that  aggravates  the  offence  by  doing  the  deed  a 
thousand  times  instead  of  once;  but  it  is  a state,  too,  that 
tauntingly  visits  the  offence  upon  a sullen  unrepentant 
nature  with  its  heaviest  punishment  every  time. 

Bradley  toiled  on,  chained  heavily  to  the  idea  of  his 
hatred  and  his  vengeance,  and  thinking  how  he  might 
have  satiated  both  in  many  better  ways  than  the  way 
he  had  taken.  The  instrument  might  have  been  better, 
the  spot  and  the  hour  might  have  been  better  chosen. 
To  batter  a man  down  from  behind  in  the  dark,  on  the 
brink  of  a river  was  well  enough,  but  he  ought  to  have 
been  instantly  disabled,  whereas  he  had  turned  and 
seized  his  assailant;  and  so,  to  end  it  before  chance-help 
came,  and  to  be  rid  of  him,  he  had  been  hurriedly 
thrown  backward  into  the  river  before  the  life  was  fully 
beaten  out  of  him.  Now  if  it  could  be  done  again,  it 
must  not  be  so  done.  Supposing  his  head  had  been  held 


310 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


down  under  water  for  a while.  Supposing  the  first  blow 
had  been  truer.  Supposing  he  had  been  shot.  Suppos- 
ing he  had  been  strangled.  Suppose  this  way,  that  way, 
the  other  way.  Suppose  anything  but  getting  un- 
chained from  the  one  idea,  for  that  was  inexorably 
impossible. 

The  school  reopened  next  day.  The  scholars  saw  lit- 
tle or  no  change  in  their  master’s  face,  for  it  always 
wore  its  slowly  labouring  expression.  But,  as  he  heard 
his  classes,  he  was  always  doing  the  deed  and  doing  it 
better.  As  he  paused  with  his  piece  of  chalk  at  the 
black  board  before  writing  on  it,  he  was  thinking  of 
the  spot,  and  whether  the  water  was  not  deeper  and  the 
fall  straighter,  a little  higher  up,  or  a little  lower  down. 
He  had  half  a mind  to  draw  a line  or  two  upon  the 
board,  and  show  himself  what  he  meant.  He  was  doing 
it  again  and  improving  on  the  manner,  at  prayers,  in 
his  mental  arithmetic,  all  through  his  questioning,  all 
through  the  day. 

Charley  Hexam  was  a master  now,  in  another  school, 
under  another  head.  It  was  evening,  and  Bradley  was 
walking  in  his  garden  observed  from  behind  a blind 
by  gentle  little  Miss  Beecher,  who  contemplated  offer- 
ing him  a loan  of  her  smelling  salts  for  headache, 
when  Mary  Anne,  in  faithful  attendance,  held  her 
arm. 

Yes,  Mary  Anne?” 

Young  Mr.  Hexam,  if  you  please,  ma’am,  coming’ to 
see  Mr.  Headstone.” 

Very  good,  Mary  Anne.” 

Again  Mary  Anne  held  up  her  arm. 

You  may  speak,  Mary  Anne.” 

Mr.  Headstone  has  beckoned  young  Mr.  Hexam  into 
his  house,  ma’am,  and  he  has  gone  in  himself  without 
waiting  for  young  Mr.  Hexam  to  come  up,  and  now  he 
has  gone  in  too,  ma’am,  and  has  shut  the  door.” 

With  all  my  heart,  Mary  Anne.” 

Again  Mary  Anne’s  telegraphic  arm  worked. 

What  more,  Mary  Anne?” 

They  must  find  it  rather  dull  and  dark.  Miss  Beecher, 
for  the  parlour  blind’s  down,  and  neither  of  them  pulls 
it  up.” 

There  is  no  accounting,”  said  good  Miss  Beecher 
with  a little  sad  sigh  which  she  repressed  by  laying  her 


BETTER  TO  BE  ABEL  THAN  CAIN. 


311 


hand  on  her  neat  methodical  boddice,  ^Hhere  is  no  ac- 
counting for  tastes,  Mary  Anne.” 

Charley,  entering  the  dark  room,  stopped  short  when 
he  saw  his  old  friend  in  its  yellow  shade. 

^^Come  in,  Hexam,  come  in.” 

Charley  advanced  to  take  the  hand  that  was  held  out 
to  him;  but  stopped  again,  short  of  it.  The  heavy, 
bloodshot  eyes  of  the  schoolmaster,  rising  to  his  face 
with  an  effort,  met  his  look  of  scrutiny. 

Mr.  Headstone,  what’s  the  matter  ?” 

Matter  ? Where  ? ” 

^^Mr.  Headstone,  have  you  heard  the  news?  This 
news  about  the  fellow,  Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn  ? That 
he  is  killed  ?” 

^^He  is  dead,  then  ?”  exclaimed  Bradley. 

Young  Hexam  standing  looking  at  him,  he  moistened 
his  lips  with  his  tongue,  looked  about  the  room,  glanced 
at  his  former  pupil,  and  looked  down.  I heard  of  the 
outrage,”  said  Bradley,  trying  to  constrain  his  working 
mouth,  ^^but  I had  not  heard  the  end  of  it.” 

Where  were  you,”  said  the  boy,  advancing  a step  as 
he  lowered  his  voice,  when  it  was  done  ! Stop  ! I 
don’t  ask  that.  Don’t  tell  me.  If  you  force  your  con- 
fidence upon  me,  Mr.  Headstone,  I’ll  give  up  every  word 
of  it.  Mind  ! Take  notice.  I’ll  give  up  it,  and  I’ll  give 
up  you.  I will  !” 

The  wretched  creature  seemed  to  suffer  acutely  under 
this  renunciation.  A desolate  air  of  utter  and  complete 
loneliness  fell  upon  him,  like  a visible  shade. 

It’s  for  me  to  speak,  not  you,”  said  the  boy.  If  you 
do,  you’ll  do  it  at  your  peril.  I am  going  to  put  your 
selfishness  before  you,  Mr.  Headstone — your  passionate, 
violent,  and  ungovernable  selfishness — to  show  you 
why  I can,  and  why  I will,  have  nothing  more  to  do 
with  you.” 

He  looked  at  young  Hexam  as  if  he  were  waiting 
for  a scholar  to  go  on  with  a lesson  that  he  knew  by 
heart  and  was  deadly  tired  of.  But*  he  had  said  his 
last  word  to  him.  • 

If  you  had  any  part — I don’t  say  what — in  this  at- 
tack,” pursued  the  boy;  ^‘or  if  you  know  anything 
about  it — I don’t  say  how  much — or  if  you  know  who 
did  it — I go  no  closer — you  did  an  injury  to  me  that’s 
never  to  be  forgiven.  You  know  that  I took  you  with 


B12 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


me  to  his  chambers  in  the  Temple  when  I told  him  my 
opinion  of  him,  and  made  myself  responsible  for  my 
opinion  of  you.  You  know  that  I took  you  with  me 
when  I was  watching  him  with  a view  to  recovering  my 
sister  and  bringing  her  to  her  senses;  you  know  that  I 
have  allowed  myself  to  be  mixed  up  with  you,  all 
through  this  business,  in  favouring  your  desire  to  marry 
my  sister.  And  how  do  you  know  that,  pursuing  the 
ends  of  your  own  violent  temper,  you  have  not  laid 
me  open  to  suspicion  ? Is  that  your  gratitude  to  me, 
Mr.  Headstone  ? ” 

Bradley  sat  looking  steadily  before  him  at  the  vacant 
air.  As  often  as  young  Hexam  stopped,  he  turned  his 
eyes  towards  him,  as  if  he  were  waiting  for  him  to  go 
on  with  the  lesson,  and  get  it  done.  As  often  as  the 
boy  resumed,  Bradley  resumed  his  fixed  face. 

I am  going  to  be  plain  with  you,  Mr.  Headstone,” 
said  young  Hexam,  shaking  his  head  in  a half -threat- 
ening manner,  because  this  is  no  time  for  affecting  not 
to  know  things  that  I do  know — except  certain  things 
at  which  it  might  not  be  very  safe  for  you  to  hint  again. 
.What  I mean  is  this:  if  you  were  a good  master,  I was 
a good  pupil.  I have  done  you  plenty  of  credit,  and  in 
improving  my  own  reputation  I have  improved  yours 
quite  as  much.  Very  well  then.  Starting  on  equal 
terms,  I want  to  put  before  you  how  you  have  shown 
your  gratitude  to  me,  for  doing  all  I could  to  further 
your  wishes  with  reference  to  my  sister.  You  have 
compromised  me  by  being  seen  about  with  me,  endeav- 
ouring to  counteract  this  Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn.  That’s 
the  first  thing  you  have  done.  If^my  character,  and 
my  now  dropping  you,  help  me  out  of  that,  Mr.  Head- 
stone, the  deliverance  is  to  be  attributed  to  me,  and  not 
to  you.  No  thanks  to  you  for  it!  ’’ 

The  boy  stopping  again,  he  moved  his  eyes  again, 
am  going  on,  Mr.  Headstone,  don’t  you  be  afraid. 
I am  going  on  to  the  end,  and  I have  told  you  before- 
hand what  the  end  is.  Now  you  know  my  story.  You 
are  as  well  awafe  as  I am,  that  I have  had  many  dis- 
advantages to  leave  behind  me  in  life.  You  have  heard 
me  mention  my  father,  and  you  are  sufficiently  ac- 
quainted with  the  fact  that  the  home  from  which  I,  as  I 
may  say,  escaped,  might  have  been  a more  creditable 
one  than  it  was.  My  father  died,  and  then  it  might 


t 


BETTER  TO  BE  ABEL  THAN  CAIN. 


Our  Mutual  Friend. 


BETTER  TO  BE  ABEL  THAN  CAIN. 


313 


have  been  supposed  that  my  way  to  respectability  was 
pretty  clear.  No.  For  then  my  sister  begins.” 

He  spoke  as  confidently^  and  with  as  entire  an  ab- 
sence of  any  tell-tale  colour  in  his  cheek,  as  if  there 
were  no  softening  old  time  behind  him.  Not  wonder- 
ful, for  there  was  none  in  his  hollow  empty  heart. 
What  is  there  but  self  for  selfishness  to  see  behind  it? 

When  I speak  of  my  sister,  I devoutly  wish  that 
you  had  never  seen  her,  Mr.  Headstone.  However,  you 
did  see  her,  and  that’s  useless  now.  I confided  in  you 
about  her.  I explained  her  character  to  you,  and  how 
she  interposed  some  ridiculous  fanciful  notions  in  the 
way  of  our  being  as  respectable  as  1 tried  for.  You  fell 
in  love  with  her,  and  I favoured  you  with  all  my  might. 
She  could  not  be  induced  to  favour  you,  and  so  we  came 
i ito  collision  with  this  Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn.  Now, 
what  have  you  done?  Why,  you  have  justified  my  sister  in 
being  firmly  set  against  you  from  first  to  last,  and  you 
have  put  me  in  the  wrong  again ! And  why  have  you  done 
it?  Because,  Mr.  Headstone,  you  are  in  all  your  passions 
so  selfish,  and  so  concentrated  upon  yourself  that  you 
have  not  bestowed  one  proper  thought  on  me.” 

The  cool  conviction  with  which  the  boy  took  up  and 
held  his  position,  could  have  been  derived  from  no  other 
vice  in  human  nature. 

It  is,”  he  went  on,  actually  with  tears,  ^^an  extraor- 
dinary circumstance  attendant  on  my  life,  that  every 
effort  I make  towards  perfect  respectability,  is'impeded 
by  somebody  else  through  no  fault  of  mine!  Not  con- 
tent with  doing  what  I have  put  before  you,  you  will 
drag  my  name  into  notoriety  through  dragging  my 
sister’s — which  you  are  pretty  sure  to  do,  if  my  sus- 
picions have  any  foundation  at  all — and  the  worse  you 
prove  to  be,  the  harder  it  will  be  for  me  to  detach  my- 
self from  being  associated  with  you  in  people’s  minds.” 

When  he  had  dried  his  eyes  and  heaved  a sob  over 
his  injuries,  he  began  moving  towards  the  door. 

However,  I have  made  up  my  mind  that  I will  be- 
come respectable  in  the  scale  of  society,  and  that  I will 
not  be  dragged  down  by  others.  I have  done  with  my 
sister  as  well  as  with  you.  Since  she  cares  so  little  for  me 
as  to  care  nothing  for  undermining  my  respectability, 
she  shall  go  het*  way  and  I will  go  mine.  My  prospects 
are  very  good,  and  I mean  to  follow  them  alone.  Mr, 


314 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Headstone,  I don’t  say  what  you  have  got  upon  your 
conscience,  for  I don’t  know.  Whatever  lies  upon  it,  I 
hope  you  will  see  the  justice  of  keeping  wide  and  clear 
of  me,  and  will  find  a consolation  in  completely  exoner- 
ating all  but  yourself.  I hope,  before  many  years  are 
out,  to  succeed  the  master  in  my  present  school,  and 
the  mistress  being  a single  woman,  though  some  years 
older  than  I am,  I might  even  marry  her.  If  it  is  any 
comfort  to  you  to  know  what  plans  I may  work  out  by 
keeping  myself  strictly  respectable  in  the  scale  of 
society,  these  are  the  plans  at  present  occurring  to  me. 
In  conclusion,  if  you  feel  a sense  of  having  injured  me, 
and  a desire  to  make  some  small  reparation,  I hope  you 
will  think  how  respectable  you  might  have  been  your- 
self, and  will  contemplate  your  blighted  existence. 

Was  it  strange  that  the  wretched  man  should  take  this 
heavily  to  heart  ? Perhaps  he  had  taken  the  boy  to 
heart,  first,  through  some  long  laborious  years;  perhaps 
through  the  same  years  he  had  found  his  drudgery 
lightened  by  communication  with  a brighter  and  more 
apprehensive  spirit  than  his  own;  perhaps  a family  re- 
semblance of  face  and  voice  between  the  boy  and  his 
sister  smote  him  hard  in  the  gloom  of  his  fallen  state. 
For  whichsoever  reason,  or  for  all,  he  drooped  his  de- 
voted head  when  the  boy  was  gone,  and  shrank  together 
on  the  floor,  and  grovelled  there,  with  the  palms  of  his 
hands  tight  clasping  his  hot  temples,  in  unutterable 
misery,  dnd  unrelieved  by  a single  tear. 

Rogue  Riderhood  had  been  busy  with  the  river  that 
day.  He  had  fished  with  assiduity  on  the  previous 
evening,  but  the  light  was  short,  and  he  had  fished  un- 
successfully. He  had  fished  again  that  day  with  better 
luck,  and  had  carried  his  fish  home  to  Plash  water  Weir- 
Mill  Lock-house  in  a bundle. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

A FEW  GRAINS  OF  PEPPER. 

rpHE  doll’s  dressmaker  went  no  more  to  the  business 
X premises  of  Pubsey  and  Co. , in  St.  Mary  Axe,  after 
chance  had  disclosed  to  her  (as  she  supposed)  the  flinty 


A FEW  GEAINS  OF  PEPPER. 


315 


and  hypocritical  character  of  Mr.  Riah.  She  often 
moralised  over  her  work  on.  the  tricks  and  the  manners 
of  that  venerable  cheat,  but  made  her  little  purchases 
elsewhere,  and  lived  a secluded  life.  After  much  con- 
sultation with  herself  she  decided  not  to  put  Lizzie 
Hexam  on  her  guard  against  the  old  man,  arguing  that 
the  disappointment  of  finding  him  out  would  come 
upon  her  quite  soon  enough.  Therefore,  in  her  commu- 
nication with  her  friend  by  letter,  she  was  silent  on 
this  theme,  and  principally  dilated  on  the  backslidings 
of  her  bad  child,  who  every  day  grew  worse  and 
worse. 

You  wicked  old  boy/’  Miss  Wren  would  say  to  him, 
with  a menacing  forefinger,  youTl  force  me  to  run 
away  from  you,  after  all,  you  will;  and  then  youTl  shake 
to  bits,  and  thereTl  be  nobody  to  pick  up  the  pieces!” 

At  this  foreshadowing,  of  a desolate  decease,  the 
wicked  old  boy  would  whine  and  whimper,  and  would 
sit  shaking  himself  into  the  lowest  of  low  spirits,  until 
such  time  as  he  could  shake  himself  out  of  the  house 
and  shake  another  three-pennyworth  into  himself.  But 
dead  drunk  or  dead  sober  (he  had  come  to  such  a pass 
that  he  was  least  alive  in  the  latter  state),  it  was  always 
on  the  conscience  of  the  paralytic  scarecrow  that  he 
had  betrayed  his  sharp  parent  for  sixty  three  penny- 
worths of  rum,  which  were  all  gone,  and  that  her  sharp- 
ness would  infallibly  detect  his  having  done  it,  sooner 
or  later.  All  things  considered  therefore,  and  addition 
made  of  the  state  of  his  body  to  the  state  of  his  mind, 
the  bed  on  which  Mr.  Dolls  reposed  was  a bed  of  roses 
from  which  the  fiowers  and  leaves  had  entirely  faded, 
leaving  him  to  lie  upon  the  thorns  and  stalks. 

On  a certain  day.  Miss  Wren  was  alone  at  her  work, 
with  the  house-door  set  open  for  coolness,  and  was 
trolling  in  a small  sweet  voice  a mournful  little  song 
which  might  have  been  the  song  of  the  doll  she  was 
dressing,  bemoaning  the  brittleness  and  meltability  of 
wax,  when  whom  should  she  descry  standing  on  the 
pavement,  looking  in  at  her,  but  Mr.  Fledgeby. 

thought  it  was  you!  ” said  Fledgeby,  coming  up 
the  two  steps. 

Did  you?”  Miss  Wren  retorted.  And  I thought  it 
was  you,  young  man.  Quite  a coincidence.  You’re  not 
mistaken,  and  I’m  not  mistaken.  How  clever  we  are  ! ” 


316 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Well,  and  how  are  you  said  Fledgeby. 

I am  i^retty  much  as  usual,  sir,’’  replied  Miss  Wren. 

A very  unfortunate  parent,  worried  out  of  my  life 
and  senses  by  a very  bad  child.” 

Fledgeby’s  small  eyes  opened  so  wide  that  they  might 
have  passed  for  ordinary-sized  eyes,  as  he  stared  about 
him  for  the  very  young  person  whom  he  supposed  to 
be  in  question. 

^^But  you’re  not  a parent,”  said  Miss  Wren,  '^and 
consequently  it’s  of  no  use  talking  to  you  upon  a family 
subject. — To  what  am  I to  attribute  the  honour  and 
favour  ? ” 

To  a wish  to  improve  your  acquaintance,”  Mr. 
Fledgeby  replied. 

Miss  Wren,  stopping  to  bite  her  thread,  looked  at  him 
very  knowingly. 

^ We  never  meet  now,”  sai^d  Fledgeby  ; do  we  ?” 

^^No,”  smd  Miss  Wren,  chopping  off  the  word. 

‘^So  I had  a mind,”  pursued  Fledgeby,  ^‘to  come  and 
have  a talk  with  you  about  our  dodging  friend,  the  child 
of  Israel.” 

So  he  gave  you  my  address ; did  he  ?”  asked  Miss 
Wren. 

I got  it  out  of  him,”  said  Fledgeby,  with  a stammer. 

You  seem  to  see  a good  deal  of  him,”  remarked  Miss 
• Wren,  with  shrewd  distrust.  A good  deal  of  him  you 
seem  to  see,  considering.” 

Yes,  I do,”  said  Fledgeby.  ''Considering.” 

"Haven’t  you,”  inquired  the  dressmaker,  bending 
over  the  doll  on  which  her  art  was  being  exercised, 
" done  interceding  with  him  yet  ?” 

" No,”  said  Fledgeby,  shaking  his  head. 

" La  ! Been  interceding  with  him  all  this  time,  and 
sticking  to  him  still  ?”  said  Miss  Wren,  busy  with  her 
work. 

" Sticking  to  him  is  the  word,”  said  Fledgeby. 

Miss  Wren  pursued  her  occupation  with  a concentra- 
ted air,  and  asked,  after  an  interval  of  silent  indus- 
try : 

" Are  you  in  the  army  ?” 

" Not  exactly,”  said  Fledgeby,  rather  flattered  by  tlie 
question. 

" Navy  ?”  asked  Miss  Wren. 

"N  -no,”  said  Fledgeby.  He  qualified  these  two 


A FEW  GRAINS  OF  PEPPER.  :]17 

negatives,  as  if  he  were  not  absolutely  in  either  service, 
but  was  almost  in  both. 

What  are  you  then  demanded  Miss  Wren. 

I am  a gentleman,  I am,”  said  Fledgeby. 

^^Oh  !”  assented  Jenny,  screwing  up  her  mouth  with 
an  appearance  of  conviction.  Yes,  to  be  sure  ! That 
accounts  for  your  having  so  much  time  to  give  to  inter- 
ceding. But  only  to  think  how  kind  and  friendly  a 
gentleman  you  must  be  ! ” 

Mr.  Fledgeby  found  that  he  was  skating  round  a 
board  marked  Dangerous,  and  had  better  cut  out  a 
fresh  track.  Let’s  get  back  to  the  dodgerest  of  the 
dodgers,”  said  he.  What’s  he  up  to  in  the  case  of 
your  friend  the  handsome  gal  ? He  must  have  some 
object.  What’s  his  object  ?” 

Cannot  undertake  to  say,  sir,  I am  sure!”  returned 
Miss  Wren,  composedly. 

He  won’t  ackowledge  where  she’s  gone,”  said 
Fledgeby  ; and  I have  a fancy  that  I should  like  to 
have  another  look  at  her.  Now,  I know  he  knows  where 
she  is  gone.” 

Cannot  undertake  to  say,  sir,  I am  sure  1”  Miss 
Wren  again  rejoined. 

^^And  you  know  where  she  is  gone,”  hazarded 
Fledgeby. 

“ Cannot  undrertake  to  say,  sir,  really,”  replied  Miss 
Wren. 

The  quaint  little  chin  met  Mr.  Fledgeby’s  gaze  with 
such  a bafflng  hitch’  that  that  agreeable  gentleman  was 
for  some  time  at  a loss  how  to  resume  his  fascinating 
part  in  the  dialogue.  At  length  he  said: 

^^Miss  Jenny! — That’s  your  name,  if  I don’t  mis- 
take ?” 

Probably  you  don’t  mistake,  sir,”  was  Miss  Wren’s 
cool  answer;  '’^because  you  had  it  on  the  best  authority. 
Mine,  you  know.” 

Miss  Jenny!  Instead  of  coming  up  and  being  dead, 
let’s  come  out  and  look  alive.  It’ll  pay  better,  I assure 
you,”  said  Fledgeby,  bestowing  an  inveigling  twinkle 
or  two  upon  the  dressmaker.  You’ll  find  it  pay 
better.” 

Perhaps,”  said  Miss  Jenny,  holding  out  her  doll  at 
arm’s  length,  and  critically  contemplating  the  effect 
of  her  art  with  her  scissors  on  her  lips  and  her  head 


318 


OXJR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


thrown  back,  as  if  her  interest  lay  there,  and  not  in  the 
conversation;  perhaps  you’ll  explain  your  meaning, 
young  man,  which  is  Greek  to  me. — You  must  have  an- 
other touch  of  blue  in  your  trimming,  my  dear.  ” Hav- 
ing addressed  the  last  remark  to  her  fair  client.  Miss 
Wren  proceeded  to  snip  at  some  blue  fragments  that 
lay  before  her,  among  fragments  of  all  colours,  and  to 
thread  a needle  from  a skein  of  blue  silk. 

^^Look  here,”  said  Fledgeby. — Are  you  attending?” 

I am  attending,  sir,”  replied  Miss  Wren,  without 
the  slightest  appearance  of  so  doing.  Another  touch 
of  blue  in  your  trimming,  my  dear.” 

''Well,  look  here,”  said  Fledgeby,  rather  discouraged 
by  the  circumstances  under  which  he  found  himself 
pursuing  the  conversation.  " If  you’re  attending ” 

("Light  blue,  my  sweet  young  lady,”  remarked  Miss 
Wren,  in  a sprightly  tone,  "being  best  suited  to  your 
fair  complexion  and  your  flaxen  curls.”) 

" I say,  if  you’re  attending,”  proceeded  Fledgeby, 
" it’ll  pay  better  in  this  way.  It’ll  lead  in  a roundabout 
manner  to  your  buying  damage  and  waste  of  Pubsey 
and  Co.  at  a nominal  price,  or  even  getting  it  for 
nothing.” 

" Aha!  ” thought  the  dressmaker.  " But  you  are  not 
so  roundabout.  Little  Eyes,  that  I don’t  know  your  an- 
swering for  Pubsey  and  Co.  after  all!  Little  Eyes,  Little 
Eyes,  you’re  too  cunning  by  half.” 

"And  I take  it  for  granted,”  pursued  Fledgeby  "that 
to  get  the  most  of  your  materials  for  nothing  would  be 
well  worth  your  while.  Miss  Jenny?” 

"You  may  take  it  for  granted,”  returned  the  dress- 
maker with  many  knowing  nods,  " that  it’s  always  well 
worth  my  while  to  make  money.” 

"Now,”  said  Fledgeby  approvingly,  "you’re  answer- 
ing to  a sensible  purpose.  Now,  you’re  coming  out  and 
looking  alive!  So  I make  so  free.  Miss  Jenny,  as  to 
offer  the  remark,  that  you  and  Judah  were  too  thick 
together  to  last.  You  can’t  come  to  be  intimate  with 
such  a deep  file  as  Judah  without  beginning  to  see  a 
little  way  into  him,  you  know,”  said  Fledgeby,  with  a 
wink. 

" I must  own,”  returned  the  dressmaker,  with  her 
eyes  upon  her  work,  "that  we  are  not  good  friends  at 
present.” 


A FEW  GRAINS  OF  PEPPER. 


319 


“ I know  you’re  not  good  friends  at  present,”  said 
Fledgeby.  “ I know  all  about  it.  I should  like  to  pay 
off  Judah,  by  not  letting  him  have  his  own  deep  way 
in  everything.  In  most  things  he’ll  get  it  by  hook 
or  by  crook,  but — hang  it  all  I — don’t  let  him  have  his 
own  deep  way  in  everything.  That’s  too  much.”  Mr. 
Fledgeby  said  this  with  some  display  of  indignant 
warmth,  as  if  he  was  counsel  in  the  cause  for  Virtue. 

“ How  can  I prevent  his  having  his  own  way  ? ” began 
the  dressmaker. 

“ Deep  way,  I called  it,”  said  Fledgeby. 

— His  own  deep  way,  in  anything?” 

“ I’ll  tell  you,”  said  Fledgeby.  “I  like  to  hear  you 
ask  it,  because  it’s  looking  alive.  It’s  what  I should  ex- 
pect to  find  in  one  of  your  sagacious  understanding. 
Now,  candidly.” 

“Eh?”  cried  Miss  Jenny. 

“ I said,  now  candidly,”  Mr.  Fledgeby  explained,  a 
little  put  out 
“Oh-h!” 

“ I should  be  glad  to  countermine  him,  respecting  the 
handsome  gal,  your  friend.  He  means  something  there. 
You  may  depend  upon  it,  Judah  means  something 
there.  He  has  a motive,  and  of  course  his  motive  is  a 
dark  motive.  Now,  whatever  his  motive  is,  it’s  neces- 
sary to  his  motive  ” — Mr.  Fledgeby’s  constructive  pow- 
ers were  not  equal  to  the  avoidance  of  some  tautology 
here — “that  it  should  be  kept  from  me,  what  he  has 
done  with  her.  So  I put  it  to  you,  who  know:  What 
has  he  done  with  her  ? I ask  no  more.  And  is  that  ask- 
ing much,  when  you  understand  that  it  will  pay  ? ” 

Miss  Jenny  Wren,  who  had  cast  her  eyes  upon  the 
bench  again  after  her  last  interruption,  sat  looking  at 
it,  needle  in  hand,  but  not  working,  for  some  moments. 
She  then  briskly  resumed  her  work,  and  said  with  a 
sidelong  glance  of  her  eyes  and  chin  at  Mr.  Fledgeby  : 

“ Where  d’ye  live  ? ” 

“ Albany,  Piccadilly,”  replied  Fledgeby. 

“ When  are  you  at  home?” 

“ When  you  like.” 

“Breakfast-time?”  said  Jenny,  in  her  abruptest  and 
shortest  manner. 

“No  better  time  in  the  day,”  said  Fledgeby. 

“I’ll  look  in  upon  you  to-morrow,  young  man.  Those 


320 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


two  ladies/'  pointing  to  dolls,  have  an  appointment  in 
Bond  Street  at  ten  precisely.  When  IVe  dropped  'em 
there,  I'll  drive  round  to  you."  With  a weird  little 
laugh.  Miss  Jenny  pointed  to  her  crutch-stick  as  her 
equipage. 

^^This  is  looking  alive  indeed!"  cried  Fledgeby, 
rising. 

^^Mark  you!  I promise  you  nothing,"  said  the  doll's 
dressmaker,  dabbing  two  dabs  at  him  with  her  needle, 
as  if  she  put  out  both  his  eyes. 

^^No,  no.  / understand,"  returned  Fledgeby.  ^'The 
damage  and  waste  question  shall  be  settled  first.  It 
shall  be  made  to  pay:  don't  you  be  afraid.  Good-day, 
Miss  Jenny." 

Good-day,  young  man." 

Mr.  Fledgeby's  prepossessing  form  withdrew  itself ; 
and  the  little  dressmaker,  clipping  and  snipping  and 
stitching,  and  stiching  and  snipping  and  clipping,  fell 
to  work  at  a great  rate  ; musing  and  muttering  all  the 
time. 

''Misty,  misty,  misty.  Can't  make  it  out.  Little 
Eyes  and  the  wolf  in  a conspiracy?  Or  Little  Eyes  and 
the  wolf  against  one  another?  Can't  make  it  out.  My 
poor  Lizzie,  have  they  both  designs  against  you,  either 
way?  Can't  make  it  out.  Is  Little  Eyes  Pubsey,  and 
the  wolf  Co  ? Can't  make  it  out.  Pubsey  true  to  Co. 
and  Co.  to  Pubsey?  Pubsey  false  to  Co.  and  Co.  to  Pub- 
sey ? Can't  make  it  out  ? What  said  Little  Eyes  ? ' N o w, 
candidly?'  Ah!  However  the  cat  jumps,  Ac's  a liar. 
That's  all  I can  make  out  at  present;  but  you  may  go 
to  bed  in  the  Albany,  Piccadilly,  with  that  for  your  pil- 
low, young  man!"  Thereupon  the  little  dressmaker 
again  dabbed  out  his  eyes  separately,  and  making  a 
loop  in  the  air  of  her  thread  and  deftly  catching  it  into 
a knot  with  her  needle,  seemed  to  bowstring  him  into 
the  bargain. 

For  the  terrors  undergone  by  Mr.  Dolls  that  evening 
when  his  little  parent  sat  profoundly  meditating  ever 
her  work,  and  when  he  imagined  himself  found  out,  as 
often  as  she  -changed  her  attitude,  or  turned  her  eyes 
towards  him,  there  is  no  adequate  name.  Moreover  it 
was  her  habit  to  shake  her  head  at  that  wretched  old 
boy  whenever  she  caught  his  eye  as  he  shivered  and 
shook.  What  are  popularly  called  "the  trembles" 


A FEW  GRAINS  OF  PEPPER. 


being  in  full  force  upon  him  that  evening,  and  likewise 
what  are  popularly  called  ^'the  horrors,”  he  had  a very 
bad  time  of  it;  which  was  not  made  better  by  his  being 
so  remorseful  as  frequently  to  moan  '‘Sixty  three-penn- 
’orths.” This  imperfect  sentence  not  being  at  all  intel- 
ligible as  a confession,  but  sounding  like  a Gargantuan 
order  for  a dram,  brought  him  into  new  difficulties  by 
occasioning  his  parent  to  pounce  at  him  in  a more  than 
usually  snappish  manner,  and  to  overwhelm  him  with 
bitter  reproaches. 

What  was  a bad  time  for  Mr.  Dolls  could  not  fail  to 
be  a bad  time  for  the  doll’s  dressmaker.  However,  she 
was  on  the  alert  next  morning,  and  drove  to  Bond 
Street,  and  set  down  the  two  ladies  punctually,  and 
then  directed  her  equipage  to  conduct  her  to  the  Al- 
bany. Arrived  at  the  doorway  of  the  house  in  which 
Mr.  Fledgeby’s  chambers  were,  she  found  a lady  stand- 
ing there  in  a travelling  dress,  holding  in  her  hand — of 
all  things  in  the  world — a gentleman’s  hat. 

"You  want  some  one?”  said  the  lady  in  a stern 
manner. 

"I  am  going  up-stairs  to  Mr.  Fledgeby’s.” 

"You  cannot  do  that  at  this  moment.  There  is  a 
gentleman  with  him.  I am  waiting  for  the  gentleman. 
His  business  with  Mr.  Fledgeby  will  very  soon  be  trans- 
acted, and  then  you  can  go  up.  Until  the  gentleman 
comes  down,  you  must  wait  here.” 

While  speaking,  and  afterwards,  the  lady  kept 
watchfully  between  her  and  the  staircase,  as  if  pre- 
pared to  oppose  her  going  up,  by  force.  The  lady  being 
of  a stature  to  stop  her  with  a hand,  and  looking 
mightily  determined,  the  dressmaker  stood  still. 

"Well?  Why  do  you  listen?”  asked  the  lady. 

" I am  not  listening,”  said  the  dressmaker. 

"What  do  you  hear?”  asked  the  lady,  altering  her 
phrase. 

"Is  it  a kind  of  spluttering  somewhere?”  said  the 
dressmaker,  with  an  inquiring  look. 

"Mr.  Fledgeby  in  his  shower-bath,  perhaps,”  re- 
marked the  lady,  smiling. 

"And  somebody’s  beating  a carpet,  I think  !” 

" Mr.  Fledgeby’s  carpet,  I dare  say,”  replied  the 
smiling  lady. 

Miss  Wren  had  a reasonably  good  eye  for  smiles, 
VOL.  II.  21 


322 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


being  well  accustomed  to  them  on  the  part  of  her  young 
friends,  though  their  smiles  mostly  ran  smaller  than  in 
nature.  But  she  had  never  seen  so  singular  a smile  as 
that  upon  this  lady's  face.  It  twitched  her  nostrils 
open  in  a remarkable  manner,  and  contracted  her  lips 
and  eyebrows.  It  was  a smile  of  enjoyment,  too,  though 
of  such  a fierce  kind  that  Miss  Wren  thought  she  would 
rather  not  enjoy  herself  than  do  it  in  that  way. 

^^Well!’’  said  the  lady,  watching  her.  ^^What 
now?  ” 

I hope  there’s  nothing  the  matter!”  said  the  dress- 
maker. 

Where?  ” inquired  the  lady. 

^‘1  don’t  know  where,”  said  Miss  Wren,  staring  about 
her.  But  I never  heard  such  odd  noises.  Don’t  you 
think  I had  better  call  somebody?” 

^'I  think  you  had  better  not,”  returned  the  lady  with 
a significant  frown,  and  drawing  closer. 

On  this  hint,  the  dressmaker  relinquished  the  idea, 
and  stood  looking  at  the  lady  as  hard  as  the  lady  looked 
at  her.  Meanwhile,  the  dressmaker  listened  with  amaze- 
ment to  the  odd  noises  which  still  continued,  and  the 
lady  listened  too,  but  with  a coolness  in  which  there 
was  no  trace  of  amazement. 

Soon  afterwards  came  a slamming  and  banging  of 
doors;  and  then  came  running  down-stairs,  a gentleman 
with  whiskers,  and  out  of  breath,  who  seemed  to  be  red- 
hot. 

^^Is  your  business  done,  Alfred?”  inquired  the  lady. 

‘Wery  thoroughly  done,”  replied  the  gentleman,  as 
he  took  his  hat  from  her. 

^Wou  can  go  up  to  Mr.  Fledgeby  as  soon  as  you 
like,”  said  the  lady,  moving  haughtily  away. 

‘^Oh!  And  you  can  take  these  three  pieces  of  stick 
with  you,”  added  the  gentleman  politely,  and  say,  if 
you  please,  that  they  come  from  Mr.  Alfred  Lammle, 
with  his  compliments  on  leaving  England.  Mr.  Alfred 
Lammle.  Be  so  good  as  not  to  forget  the  name.” 

The  three  pieces  of  stick  were  three  broken  and  frayed 
fragments  of  a stout  lithe  cane.  Miss  Jenny  taking 
them  wonderingly,  and  the  ^ gentleman  repeating  with 
a grin,^^  Mr.  Alfred  Lammle,  if  you’ll  be  so  good.  Com- 
pliments, on  leaving  England,”  the  lady  and  gentle- 
man walked  away  quite  deliberately,  and  Miss  Jenny 


A FEW  GRAINS  OF  PEPPER. 


323 


and  her  crutch-stick  went  up-stairs.  ‘‘^Lammle. 
Lamnile,  Lammle!  ’’  Miss  Jenny  repeated  as  she  panted 
from  stair  to  stair,  ''where  have  I heard  that  name? 
Lammle,  Lammle!  I know!  Saint  Mary  Axe!’’ 

With  a gleam  of  new  intelligence  in  her  sharp  face, 
the  doll’s  dressmaker  pulled  at  Fledgeby’s  bell.  No  one 
answered;  but  from  within  the  chambers,  there  pro- 
ceeded a continuous  spluttering  sound  of  a highly  singu- 
lar and  unintelligible  nature. 

"Good  gracious!  Is  Little  Eyes  choking?”  cried 
Miss  Jenny. 

Pulling  at  the  bell  again?  and  getting  no  reply,  she 
pushed  the  outer  door,  and  found  it  standing  ajar.  No 
one  being  visible  on  her  opening  it  wider,  and  the 
spluttering  continuing,  she  took  the  liberty  of  opening 
an  inner  door,  and  then  beheld  the  extraordinary  spec- 
tacle of  Mr.  Fledgeby  in  a shirt,  a pair  of  Turkish 
trousers,  and  a Turkish  cap,  rolling  over  and  over  on 
his  own  carpet,  and  spluttering  wonderfully. 

"Oh  Lord!”  gasped  Mr.  Fledgeby.  "Oh,  my  eye! 
Stop  thief  ! I am  strangling.  Fire!  Oh,  my  eye!  A 
glass  of  water.  Give  me  a glass  of  water.  Shut  the 
door.  Murder!  Oh  Lord!  ” And  then  rolled  and  splut- 
tered more  than  ever. 

Hurrying  into  another  room.  Miss  Jenny  got  a glass 
of  water,  and  brought  it  for  Fledgeby’s  relief : who 
gasping,  spluttering,  and  rattling  in  his  throat  between- 
whiles,  drank  some  water,  and  laid  his  head  faintly  on 
her  arm. 

"Oh,  my  eye!”  cried  Fledgeby,  struggling  anew. 
"It’s  salt  and  snuff.  It’s  up  my  nose,  and  down  my 
throat,  and  in  my  windpipe.  Ugh!  Ow!  Ow!  Ow! 
Ah — h — h — h!”  And  here,  crowing  fearfully,  with  his 
eyes  starting  out  of  his  head,  appeared  to  be  con- 
tending with  every  mortal  disease'  incidental  to  poul- 
try. 

" And,  Oh,  my  eye.  I’m  so  sore!  ” cried  Fledgeby  start- 
ing over  on  his  back,  in  a spasmodic  way  that  caused 
the  dressmaker  to  retreat  to  the  wall.  "Oh,  I smart 
so  ! Do  put  something  to  my  back  and  arms,  and  legs 
and  shoulders!  Ugh  ! It’s  down  my  throat  again,  and 
can’t  come  up.  Ow!  Ow!  Ow!  Ah — h — h — h!  Oh!  I smart 
so!”  Here  Mr.  Fledgeby  bounded  up,  and  bounded 
down,  and  went  rolling  over  and  over  again. 


324  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

The  dolFs  dressmaker  looked  on  until  he  rolled  him- 
self into  a corner  with  his  Turkish  slippers  uppermost, 
and  then,  resolving  in  the  first  place  to  address  her 
ministration  to  the  salt  and  snuff,  gave  him  more  water, 
and  slapped  his  back.  But  the  latter  application  was 
by  no  means  a success,  causing  Mr.  Fledgeby  to  scream, 
and  to  cry  out,  ^^Oh,  my  eye!  don’t  slap  me!  I’m  cov- 
ered with  weales,  and  I smart  so!” 

However,  he  gradually  ceased  to  choke  and  crow, 
saving  at  intervals,  and  Miss  Jenny  got  him  into  an 
easy-chair:  where,  with  his  eyes  red  and  watery,  with 
his  features  swollen,  and  with  some  h^lf-dozen  livid 
bars  across  his  face,  he  presented  a most  rueful  sight. 

Whatever  possessed  you  to  take  salt  and  snuff, 
young  man?”  inquired  Miss  Jenny. 

^‘1  didn’t  take  it,”  the  dismal  youth  replied.  It  was 
crammed  into  my  mouth.” 

Who  crammed  it?”  asked  Miss  Jenny. 

^^Ile  did,”  answered  Fledgeby.  ^^The  assassin. 
Lammle.  He  rubbed  it  into  my  mouth,  and  up  my  nose, 
and  down  my  throat — Ow!  Ow!  Ow!  Ah— h — h — h ! 
Ugh! — to  prevent  my  crying  out,  and  then  cruelly  as- 
saulted me.” 

With  this?”  asked  Miss  Jenny,  showing  the  pieces 
of  cane. 

That’s  the  weapon,”  said  Fledgeby,  eyeing  it  with 
the  air  of  an  acquaintance.  ^^He  broke  it  over  me. 
Oh,  I smart  so!  How  did  you  come  by  it?” 

'^When  he  ran  down-stairs  and  joined  the  lady  he 
had  left  in  the  hall  with  his  hat” Miss  Jenny  began. 

^^Oh!”  g-roaned  Mr.  Fledgeby,  writhing,  she  was 
holding  his  hat,  was  she?  I might  have  known  she 
was  in  it!  ” 

When  he  came  down-stairs  and  joined  the  lady  who 
wouldn’t  let  me  come  up,  he  gave  me  the  pieces  for 
you,  and  I was  to  say,  ^ With  Mr.  Alfred  Lammle’s  com- 
pliments on  his  leaving  England.’”  Miss  Jenny  said  it 
with  such  spiteful  satisfaction,  and  such  a hitch  of  her 
chin  and  eyes  as  might  have  added  to  Mr.  Fledgeby’s 
miseries,  if  he  could  have  noticed  either,  in  his  bodily 
pain  with  his  hand  to  his  head. 

Shall  I go  for  the  police  ?”  inquired  Miss  Jenny, 
with  a nimble  start  towards  the  door. 

Stop  ! No,  don’t  ! ” cried  Fledgeby.  Don’t,  please. 


A FEW  GRAINS  OF  PEPPER. 


325 


We  had  better  keep  it  quiet.  Will  you  be  so  good  as 
shut  the  door  ? Oh,  I do  smart  so  ! ’’ 

In  testimony  of  the  extent  to  which  he  smarted,  Mr. 
Fledgeby  came  wallowing  out  of  the  easy-chair,  and 
took  another  roll  on  the  carpet. 

'^Now  the  door’s  shut,”  said  Mr.  Fledgeby,  sitting  up 
in  anguish,  with  his  Turkish  cap  half  on  and  half  off, 
and  the  bars  on  his  face  getting  bluer,  do  me  the  kind- 
ness to  look  at  my  back  and  shoulders.  They  must  be 
in  an  awful  state,  for  I hadn’t  got  my  dressing-gown 
on,  when  the  brute  came  rushing  in.  Cut  my  shirt  away 
from  the  collar  ; there’s  a pair  of  scissors  on  that  table. 
Oh!”  groaned  Mr.  Fledgeby,  with  his  hand  to  his  head 
again.  How  I do  smart  to  be  sure  I” 

There  ?”  inquired  Miss  Jenny,  alluding  to  the  back 
and  shoulders. 

Oh  Lord,  yes  1 ” moaned  Fledgeby,  rocking  himself. 

And  all  over  ! Everywhere  1” 

The  busy  little  dressmaker  quickly  snipped  the  shirt 
away,  and  laid  bare  the  results  of  as  furious  and  sound 
a threshing  as  even  Mr.  Fledgeby  merited.  ^ Won  may 
well  smart,  young  man  !”  exclaimed  Miss  Jenny.  And 
stealthily  rubbed  her  little  hands  behind  him,  and  poked 
a few  exultant  pokes  with  her  two  forefingers  over  the 
crown  of  his  head. 

‘'What  do  you  think  of  vinegar  and  brown  paper  ? ” in- 
quired the  suffering  Fledgeby,  still  rocking  and  moaning. 
“Does  it  look  as  if  vinegar  and  brown  paper  was  the 
sort  of  application  ?” 

“Yes,”  said  Miss  Jenny,  with  a silent  chuckle.  “It 
looks  as  if  it  ought  to  be  Pickled.” 

Mr.  Fledgeby  collapsed  under  the  word  “Pickled,” 
and  groaned  again.  “My  kitchen  is  on  this  floor,”  he 
said ; “ you’ll  find  brown  paper  in  a dresser-drawer  there, 
and  a bottle  of  vinegar  on  a shelf.  Would  you  have  the 
kindness  to  make  a few  plasters  and' put ’em  on?  It 
can’t  be  kept  too  quiet.” 

“One,  two — hum — five,  six.  You’ll  want  six,”  said 
the  dressmaker. 

“There’s  smart  enough,”  whimpered  Mr.  Fledgeby, 
groaning  and  writhing  again,  “ for  sixty.” 

Miss  Jenny  repaired  to  the  kitchen,  scissors  in  hand, 
found  the  brown  paper  and  found  the  vinegar,  and 
skilfully  cut  out  and  steeped  six  large  plasters.  When 


326 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


they  were  all  lying  ready  on  the  dresser,  an  idea 
occurred  to  her  as  she  was  about  to  gather  them  up. 

I think/^  said  Miss  Jenny,  with  a silent  laugh,  '‘  he 
ought  to  have  a little  pepper.  Just  a few  grains.  I 
think  the  young  man’s  tricks  and  manners  make  a 
claim  upon  his  friends  for  a little  pepper.” 

Mr.  Fledgeby’s  evil  star  showing  her  the  pepper-box 
on  the  chimney-piece,  she  climbed  upon  a chair  and  got 
it  down,  and  sprinkled  all  the  plasters  with  a judicious 
hand.  She  then  went  back  to  Mr.  Fledgeby,  and  stuck 
them  all  on  him;  Mr.  Fledgeby  uttering  a sharp  howl  as 
each  was  put  in  its  place. 

"There,  young  man!”  said  the  doll’s  dressmaker. 
"Now  I hope  you  feel  pretty  comfortable?” 

Apparently  Mr.  Fledgeby  did  not,  for  he  cried  by  way 
of  answer,  " Oh — h how  I do  smart  I ” 

Miss  Jenny  got  his  Persian  gown  upon  him,  extin- 
guished his  eyes  crookedly  with  his  Persian  cap,  and 
helped  him  to  his  bed:  upon  which  he  climbed  groan- 
ing. " Business  between  you  and  me  being  out  of  the 
question  to-day,  young  man,  and  my  time  being  pre- 
cious,” said  Miss  Jenny  then,  " I’ll  make  myself  scarce. 
Are  you  comfortable  now?” 

" Oh,  my  eye!  ” cried  Mr.  Fledgeby.  "No,  I ain’t.  Oh 
— h — h!  how  I do  smart  I” 

The  last  thing  Miss  Jenny  saw,  as  she  looked  back 
before  closing  the  room- door,  was  Mr.  Fledgeby  in  the 
act  of  plunging  and  gamboling  all  over  his  bed,  like  a 
porpoise  or  dolphin  in  its  native  element.  She  then 
shut  the  bedroom  door,  and  all  the  other  doors,  and 
going  down  stairs  and  emerging  from  the  Albany  into 
the  busy  streets,  took  omnibus  for  Saint  Mary  Axe, 
pressing  on  the  road  all  the  gaily-dressed  ladies  whom 
she  could  see  from  the  window,  and  making  them  un- 
conscious lay-figures  for  dolls,  while  she  mentally  cut 
them  out  and  bast 


TWO  PLACES  VACATED, 


327 


CHAPTER  IX. 

TWO  PLACES  VACATED. 

SET  down  by  the  omnibus  at  the  corner  of  Saint  M^ry 
Axe,  and  trusting  to  her  feet  and  her  crutch-stick 
within  its  precincts,  the  doll’s  dressmaker  proceeded  to 
the  place  of  business  of  Pubsey  and  Co.  All  there  was 
sunny  and  quiet  externally,  and  shady  and  quiet  inter- 
nally. Hiding  herself  in  the  entry  outside  the  glass 
door,  she  could  see  from  that  post  of  observation  the  old 
man  in  his  spectacles  sitting  writing  at  his  desk. 

Boh!  ” cried  the  dressmaker,  popping  in  her  head  at 
the  glass  door.  ^^Mr.  Wolf  at  home?” 

The  old  man  took  his  glasses  off,  and  mildly  laid 
them  down  beside  him.  Ah,  Jenny,  is  it  you?  I 
thought  you  had  given  me  up.” 

And  so  I had  given  up  the  treacherous  wolf  of  the 
forest,”  she  replied;  ^^but,  godmother,  it  strikes  me  you 
have  ‘ come  back.  I am  not  quite  sure,  because  the 
wolf  and  you  change  forms.  I want  to  ask  you  a ques- 
tion or  two,  to  find  out  whether  you  are  really  god- 
mother or  really  wolf.  May  I?” 

‘^'Yes,  Jenny,  yes.”  But  Riah  glanced  towards  the 
door,  as  if  he  thought  his  principal  might  appear  there, 
unseasonably. 

^Mf  you’re  afraid  of  the  fox,”  said  Miss  Jenny,  ^^you 
may  dismiss  all  present  expectations  of  seeing  that 
animal.  He  won’t  show  himself  abroad  for  many  a 
day.” 

What  do  you  mean,  my  child?” 

''I  mean,  godmother,”  replied  Miss  Wren,  sitting 
down  beside  the  Jew,  that  the  fox  has  caught  a famous 
flogging,  and  that  if  his  skin  and  bones  are  not  ting- 
ling, aching,  and  smarting  at  this  present  instant,  no 
fox  did  ever  tingle,  ache,  and  smart.”  ‘’Therewith  Miss 
Jenny  related  what  had  come  to  pass  in  the  Albany, 
omitting  the  few  grains  of  pepper. 

Xow,  godmother,”  she  went  on,  I particularly  wish 
to  ask  you  what  has  taken  place  here  since  I left  the 
wolf  here?  Because  I have  an  idea,  about  the  size  of  a 
marble,  rolling  about  in  my  little  noddle.  First  and 


328 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


foremost^  are  you  Pubsey  and  Co.,  or  are  you  either? 
Upon  your  solemn  word  and  honour.” 

The  old  man  shook  his  head. 

Secondly,  isn’t  Fledgeby  both  Pubsey  and  Co.  ? ” 

The  old  man  answered  with  a reluctant  nod. 

My  idea,”  exclaimed  Miss  Wren,  is  now  about  the 
siz§  of  an  orange.  But,  before  it  gets  any  bigger,  wel- 
come back,  dear  godmother!  ” 

The  little  creature  folded  her  arms  about  the  old 
man’s  neck  with  great  earnestness,  and  kissed  him. 
humbly  beg  your  forgiveness,-  godmother.  I am  truly 
sorry.  I ought  to  have  had  more  faith  in  you.  But 
what  could  I suppose  when  you  said  nothing  for  your- 
self, you  know?  I don’t  mean  to  offer  that  as  a justifi- 
cation, but  what  could  I suppose,  when  you  were  a 
silent  party  to  all  he  said?  It  did  look  bad;  now  didn’t 
it?” 

‘^It  looked  so  bad,  Jenny,”  responded  the  old  man, 
with  gravity,  that  I will  straightway  tell  you  what  an 
impression  it  wrought  upon  me.  I was  hateful  in  mine 
own  eyes.  I was  hateful  to  myself,  in  being  so  hateful 
to  the  debtor  and  to  you.  But  more  than  that,*  and 
worse  than  that,  and  to  pass  out  far  and  broad  beyond 
myself — I reflected  that  evening,  sitting  alone  in  my 
garden  on  the  housetop,  that  I was  doing  dishonour  to 
my  ancient  faith  and  race.  I reflected — clearly  reflect- 
ed for  the  first  time — that  in  bending  my  neck  to  the 
yoke  I was  willing  to  wear,  I bent  the  unwilling  necks 
of  the  whole  Jewish  people.  For  it  is  not,  in  Christian 
countries,  with  the  Jews  as  with  other  peoples.  Men 
say,  ^ This  is  a bad  Greek,  but  there  are  good  Greeks. 
This  is  a bad  Turk,  but  there  are  good  Turks.’  Not  so 
with  the  Jews.  Men  And  the  bad  among  us  ea.sil.y 
enough — among  what  peoples  are  the  bad  not  easil}^ 
found? — but  they  take  the  worst  of  us  as  samples  of  the 
best;  they  take  the  lowest  of  us  as  presentations  of  the 
highest;  and  they  say  ^ All  Jews  are  alike.’  If,  doing 
what  I was  confent  to  do  here,  because  I was  grateful 
for  the  past  and  have  small  need  of  money  now,  I had 
been  a Christian,  I could  have  done  it,  compromising 
no  one  but  my  individual  self.  But  doing  it  as  a Jew, 
I could  not  choose  but  compromise  the  Jews  of  all  con- 
ditions and  all  countries.  It  is  a little  hard  upon  us, 
but  it  is  the  truth.  I would  that  all  our  people  re- 


TWO  PLACES  VACATED. 


329 


membered  it.  Though  I have  little  right  to  say  so, 
seeing  that  it  came  home  so  late  to  me.’' 

The  doll’s  dressmaker  sat  holding  the  old  man  by  the 
hand,  and  looking  thoughtfully  in  his  face. 

Thus  I reflected,  I say,  sitting  that  evening  in  my 
garden  on  the  housetop.  And  passing  the  painful  scene 
of  that  day  in  review  before  me  many  times,  I always 
saw  that  the  poor  gentleman  believed  the  story  readily, 
because  I was  one  of  the  Jews — that  you  believed  the 
story  readily,  my  child,  because  I was  one  of  the  Jews 
— that  the  story  itself  first  came  into  the  invention  of 
the  originator  thereof,  because  I was  one  of  the  Jews. 
This  was  the  result  of  my  having  had  you  three  before 
me,  face  to  face,  and  seeing  the  thing  visibly  presented 
as  upon  a theatre.  Wherefore  I perceived  that  the 
obligation  was  upon  me  to  leave  this  service.  But, 
Jenny,  my  dear,”  said  Riah,  breaking  off,  I promised 
that  you  should  pursue  your  questions,  and  I obstruct 
them.” 

^^On  the  contrary,  godmother;  my  idea  is  as  large 
now  as  a pumpkin — and  you  know  what  a pumpkin  is, 
don’t  you?  So  you  gave  notice  that  you  were  going? 
Does  that  cpme  next?”  asked  Miss  Jenny  with  a look 
of  close  attention. 

‘‘1  indited  a letter  to  my  master.  Yes.  To  that 
effect.” 

^‘And  what  said  Tingling-Tossing- Aching-Screaming- 
Scratching-Smarter  ? ” asked  ]?!fiss  Wren  with  an  un- 
speakable enjoyment  in  the  utterance  of  those  honour- 
able titles  and  in  the  recollection  of  the  pepper. 

^^He  held  me  to  certain  months  of  servitude,  which 
were  his  lawful  term  of  notice.  They  expire  to-morrow. 
Upon  their  expiration — not  before — I had  meant  to  set 
myself  right  with  my  Cinderella.” 

‘^My  idea  is  getting  so  immense  now,”  cried  Miss 
Wren,  clasping  her  temples,  that  my  head  won’t  hold 
it!  Listen,  godmother;  I am  going  to  expound.  Little 
Eyes  (that’s  Screaming-Scratching-Smarter)  owes  you  a 
heavy  grudge  for  going.  Little  Eyes  casts  about  how 
best  to  pay  you  off.  Little  Eyes  thinks  of  Lizzie.  Little 
Eyes  says  to  himself.  I’ll  find  out  where  he  has  placed 
that  girl,  and  I’ll  betray  his  secret  because  it’s  dear  to 
him.’  Perhaps  Little  Eyes  thinks,  ^I’ll  make  love  to 
her  myself  too;’  but  that  I can’t  swear — all  the  rest  I 


330 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


can.  So,  Little  Eyes  comes  to  me,  and  I go  to  Little 
Eyes.  That's  the  way  of  it.  And  now  the  murder's  all 
out,  I'm  sorry,"  added  the  doll's  dressmaker,  rigid  from 
head  to  foot  with  energy  as  she  shdok  her  little  fist  be- 
fore her  eyes,  ^^that  I didn't  give  him  Cayenne  pepper 
and  chopped  pickled  Capsicum!" 

This  expression  of  regret  being  but  partially  intelligi- 
ble to  Mr.  Riah,  the  old  man  reverted  to  the  injuries 
Fledgeby  had  received,  and  hinted  at  the  necessity  of 
his  at  once  going  to  tend  that  beaten  cur. 

‘^Godmother,  godmother,  godmother!"  cried  Miss 
Wren  irritably,  I really  lose  all  patience  with  you. 
One  would  think  you  believed  in  the  Good  Samaritan. 
How  can  you  be  so  inconsistent  ? " 

Jenny  dear,"  began  the  old  man  gently,  ‘At  is  the 
custom  of  our  people  to  help " 

‘^Oh!  Bother  your  people!"  interposed  Miss  Wren, 
with  a toss  of  her  head.  If  your  people  don't  know 
better  than  to  go  and  help  Little  Eyes  it's  a pity  they 
ever  got  out  of  Egypt.  Over  and  above  that,"  she 
added,  he  wouldn't  take  your  help  if  you  offered  it. 
Too  much  ashamed.  Wants  to  ^keep  it  close  and  quiet, 
and  to  keep  you  out  of  the  way.'" 

They  were  still  debating  this  point  when  a shadow 
darkened  the  entry,  and  the  glass  door  was  opened  by 
a messenger  who  brought  a letter  unceremoniously 
addressed,  ^'Riah."  'Jo  which  he  said  there  was  an 
answer  wanted. 

The  letter,  which  was  scrawled  in  pencil  uphill  and 
downhill  and  round  crooked  corners,  ran  thus 

'^Old  Riah, 

^Wour  accounts  being  all  squared,  go.  Shut  up 
the  place,  turn  out  directly,  and  send  me  the  key  by 
bearer.  Go.  You  are  an  unthankful  dog  of  a Jew. 
Get  out. 

''F." 

The  doll's  dressmaker  found  it  delicious  to  trace  the 
screaming  and  smarting  of  Little  Eyes  in  the  distorted 
writing  of  this  epistle.  She  laughed  over  it  and  jeered 
at  it  in  a convenient  corner  (to  the  great  astonishment 
of  the  messenger),  while  the  old  man  got  his  few  goods 
together  in  a black  bag.  That  done,  the  shutters  of 


TWO  PLACES  VACATED. 


331 


the  upper  windows  closed,  and  the  office  blind  pulled 
down,  they  issued  forth  upon  the  steps  with  the  attend- 
ant messenger.  There  while  Miss  Jenny  held  the  bag, 
the  old  man  locked  the  house  door,  and  handed  over 
the  key  to  him  ; who  at  once  retired  with  the  same. 

Well,  godmother,”  said  Miss  Wren,  as  they  remained 
upon  the  steps  together,  looking  at  one  another.  And 
so  youhe  thrown  upon  the  world!” 

It  would  appear  so,  Jenny,  and  somewhat  suddenly.” 
Where  are  you  going  to  seek  your  fortune?”  asked 
Miss  Wren. 

The  old  man  smiled,  but  looked  about  him  with  a 
look  of  having  lost  his  way  in  life,  which  did  not  escape 
the  dolFs  dressmaker. 

“^Werily,  Jenny,”  said  he,  the  question  is  to  the  pur- 

Eose  and  more  easily  asked  than  answered.  But  as  I 
ave  experience  of  the  ready  good-will  and  good  help  of 
those  who  have  given  occupation  to  Lizzie,  I think  I 
will  seek  them  out  for  myself.” 

^^On  foot?”  asked  Miss  Wren,  with  a chop. 

Ay!”  said  the  old  man.  Have  I not  my  staff?” 

It  was  exactly  because  he  had  his  staff,  and  presented 
so  quaint  an  aspect,  that  she  mistrusted  his  making  the 
journey. 

The  best  thing  you  can  do,”  said  Jenny,  ‘^for  the 
time  being,  at  all  events,  is  to  come  home  with  me, 
godmother.  Hobody’s  there  but  my  bad  child,  and  Liz- 
zie’s lodging  stands  empty.”  The  old  man,  when  satis- 
fied that  no  inconvenience  could  be  entailed  on  any  one 
by  his  compliance,  readily  complied;  and  the  singularly- 
assorted  couple  once  more  went  through  the  streets 
together. 

Now,  the  bad  child  having  been  strictly  charged  by 
his  parent  to  remain  at  home  in  her  absence,  of  course 
went  out;  and,  being  in  the  very  last  stage  of  mental 
decrepitude,  went  out  with  two  objects;  firstly,  to  estab- 
lish a claim  he  conceived  himself  to  have  upon  any 
licensed  victualler  living  to  be  supplied  with  three- 
pennyworth  of  rum  for  nothing;  and  secondly,  to  bestov/ 
some  maudlin  remorse  on  Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn,  and 
see  what  profit  came  of  it.  Stumblingly  pursuing  these 
two  designs — they  both  meant  rum,  the  only  meaning 
of  which  he  was  capable — the  degraded  creature  stag- 
gered into  Covent  Garden  Market  and  there  bivouacked. 


332 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


to  have  an  attack  of  the  trembles  succeeded  by  an 
attack  of  the  horrors,  in  a doorway. 

This  market  of  Covent  Garden  was  quite  out  of  the 
creature’s  line  of  road,  but  it  had  the  attraction  for 
him  which  it  has  for  the  worst  of  the  solitary  members 
of  the  drunken  tribe.  It  may  be  the  companionship 
of  the  nightly  stir,  or  it  may  be  the  companionship  of 
the  gin  and  beer  that  slop  about  among  the  carters  and 
hucksters,  or  it  may  be  the  companionship  of  the  trod- 
den vegetable  refuse  which  is  so  like  their  own  dress 
that  perhaps  they  take  the  market  for  a great  ward- 
robe; but,  be  it  what  it  may,  you  shall  see  no  such  indi- 
vidual drunkards  on  door-steps  anywhere  as  there.  Of 
dozing  women  drunkards  especially  you  shall  come 
upon  such  specimens  there,  in  the  morning  sunlight,  as 
you  might  seek  out  of  doors  in  vain  through  London. 
Such  stale  vapid  rejected  cabbage-leaf  and  cabbage- 
stalk  dress,  such  damaged-orange  countenance,  such 
squashed  pulp  of  humanity,  are  open  to  the  day  nowhere 
else.  So,  the  attraction  of  the  market  drew  Mr.  Dolls  to 
it,  and  he  had  out  his  two  fits  of  trembles  and  horrors  in 
a doorway  on  which  a woman  had  had  out  her  sodden 
nap  a few  hours  before. 

There  is  a swarm  of  young  savages  always  flitting 
about  this  same  place,  creeping  off  with  fragments  of 
orange-chests,  and  mouldy  litter — Heaven  knows  into 
what  holes  they  can  convey  them,  having  no  home! — 
whose  bare  feet  fall  with  a blunt  dull  softness  on  the 
pavement  as  the  policeman  hunts  them,  and  who  are 
(perhaps  for  that  reason)  little  heard  by  the  Powers  that 
be,  whereas  in  top-boots  they  would  make  a deafening 
clatter.  These,  delighting  in  the  trembles  and  the  hor- 
rors of  Mr.  Dolls,  as  in  a gratuitous  drama,  flocked  about 
him  in  his  doorway,  butted  at  him,  leaped  at  him,  and 
pelted  him.  Hence,  when  he  came  out  of  his  invalid 
retirement  and  shook  off  that  ragged  train,  he  was 
much  bespattered,  and  in  worse  case  than  ever.  But, 
not  yet  at  his  worst;  for,  going  into  a public-house,  and 
being  supplied  in  stress  of  business  with  his  rum,  and 
seeking  to  vanish  without  payment,  he  was  collared, 
searched,  found  penniless,  and  admonished  not  to  try 
that  again,  by  having  a pail  of  dirty  water  cast  over 
him.  This  application  superinduced  another  fit  of  the 
trembles;  after  which  Mr.  Dolls,  as  finding  himself  in 


TWO  PLACES  VACATED. 


333 


good  cue  for  making  a call  on  a professional  friend, 
addressed  himself  to  the  Temple. 

There  was  nobody  at  the  Chambers  but  Young 
Blight.  That  discreet  youth,  sensible  of  a certain  in- 
congruity in  the  association  of  such  a client  with  the 
business  that  might  be  coming  some  day,  with  the  best 
intentions  temporised  with  Dolls,  and  offered  a shilling 
for  coach  hire  home.  Mr.  Dolls,  accepting  the  shilling, 
promptly  laid  it  out  in  two  three-pennyworths  of  con- 
spiracy against  his  wife,  and  two  three-pennyworths  of 
raging  repentance.  Returning  to  the  Chambers  with 
which  burden,  he  was  descried  coming  round  into  the 
court  by  the  wary  young  Blight  watching  from  the 
window:  who  instantly  closed  the  outer  door,  and  left 
the  miserable  object  to  expend  his  fury  on  the  panels. 

The  more  the  door  resisted  him,  the  more  dangerous 
and  imminent  became  that  bloody  conspiracy  against 
his  life.  Force  of  police  arriving,  he  recognised  in  them 
the  conspirators,  and  laid  about  him  hoarsely,  fiercely, 
staringly,  convulsively,  foamingly.  A humble  machine, 
familiar  to  the  conspirators  and,  called  by  the  expressive 
name  of  Stretcher,  being  unavoidably  sent  for,  he  was 
rendered  a harmless  bundle  of  torn  rags  by  being  strap- 
ped down  upon  it,  with  voice  and  consciousness  gone 
out  of  him,  and  life  fast  going.  As  this  machine  was 
borne  out  at  the  Temple  gate  by  four  men,  the  poor 
little  doll’s  dressmaker  and  her  Jewish  friend  were 
coming  up  the,  street. 

Let  us  see  what  it  is,”  cried  the  dressmaker.  Let 
us  make  haste  and  look,  godmother.” 

The  brisk  little  crutch-stick  was  but  too  brisk.  Oh 
gentlemen,  gentlemen,  he  belongs  to  me!  ” 

Belongs  to  you!”  said  the  head  of  the  party,  stop- 
ping it. 

Oh  yes,  dear  gentlemen,  he’s  my  child,  out  without 
leave.  My  poor  bad,  bad  boy!  and  he  don’t  know  me, 
he  don’t  know  me!  Oh  what  shall  I do,”  cried  the  little 
creature,  wildly  beating  her  hands  together,  ^^when 
my  own  child  don’t  know  me?” 

The  head  of  the  party  looked  (as  well  he  might)  to 
the  old  man  for  explanation.  He  whispered,  as  the 
doll’s  dressmaker  bent  over  the  exhausted  form,  and 
vainly  tried  to  extract  some  sign  of  recognition  from 
it:  ^Mt’s  her  drunken  father.” 


334 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


As  the  load  was  put  down  in  the  street,  Riah  drew 
the  head  of  the  party  aside.,  and  whispered  that  he 
thought  the  man  was  dying.  ^‘No,  surely  not?”  re- 
turned the  other.  But  he  became  less  confident  on 
looking,  and  directed  the  bearers  to  bring  him  to  the 
nearest  doctor’s  shop.” 

Thither  he  was  brought;  the  window  becoming  from 
within  a wall  of  faces,  deformed  into  all  kinds  of  shapes 
through  the  agency  of  globular  red  bottles,  green  bot- 
tles, blue  bottles,  and  other  coloured  bottles.  A ghastly 
light  shining  upon  him  that  he  didn’t  need,  the  beast 
so  furious  but  a few  minutes  gone,  was  quiet  enough 
now,  with  a strange  mysterious  writing  on  his  face,  re- 
flected from  one  of  the  great  bottles,  as  if  Death  had 
marked  him:  ^^Mine.” 

The  medical  testimony  was  more  precise  and  more  to 
the  purpose  than  it  sometimes  is  in  a Court  of  Justice. 

You  had  better  send  for  something  to  cover  it.  All’s 
over.” 

Therefore,  the  police  sent  for  something  to  cover  it, 
and  it  was  covered  and  borne  through  the  streets,  the  peo- 
ple falling  away.  After  it,  went  the  doll’s  dressmaker, 
hiding  her  face  in  the  Jewish  skirts,  and  clinging  to 
them  with  one  hand,  while  with  the  other  she  plied  her 
stick.  It  was  carried  home,  and,  by  reason  that  the 
staircase  was  very  narrow,  it  was  put  down  in  the  par- 
lour— the  little  working-bench  being  set  aside  to  make 
room  for  it,  and  there,  in  the  midst  of  the  dolls  with  no 
speculation  in  their  eyes,  lay  Mr.  Dolls  with  no  specula- 
tion in  his. 

Many  flaunting  dolls  had  to  be  gaily  dressed,  before 
the  money  was  in  the  dressmaker’s  pocket  to  get  mourn- 
ing for  Mr.  Dolls.  As  the  old  man,  Riah,  sat  by,  help- 
ing her  in  such  small  ways  as  he  could,  he  found  it 
difficult  to  make  out  whether  she  really  did  realise  that 
the  deceased  had  been  her  father. 

If  my  poor  boy,”  she  would  say,  had  been  brought 
up  better,  he  might  have  done  better.  Not  that  I re- 
proach myself.  I hope  I have  no  cause  for  that.” 

None  indeed,  Jenny,  I am  very  certain.” 

Thank  you,  godmother.  It  cheers  me  to  hear  you 
say  so.  But  you  see  it  is  so  hard  to  bring  up  a child 
well,  when  you  work,  work,  work,  all  day.  When  he 
was  out  of  employment,  I couldn’t  always  keep  him  near 


TWO  PLACES  VACATED. 


335 


me.  He  got  fractious  and  nervous,  and  I was  ooliged 
to  let  him  go  into  the  streets.  And  he  never  did  well 
in  the  streets,  he  never  did  well  out  of  sight.  How  often 
it  happens  with  children  ! ’’ 

Too  often,  even  in  this  sad  sense  thought  the  old 
man. 

H^w  can  I say  what  I might  have  turned  out  myself, 
but  for  my  back  having  been  so  bad  and  my  legs  so 
queer,  when  I was  young ! ’’  the  dressmaker  would  go 
on.  ''  I had  nothing  to  do  but  work,  so  I worked.  I 
couldn’t  play.  But  my  poor  unfortunate  child  could 
play,  and  it  turned  out  the  worse  for  him.” 

And  not  for  him  alone,  Jenny.” 

‘^Well!  I don’t  know,  godmother.  He  suffered 
heavily,  did  rny  unfortunate  boy.  He  was  very,  very 
ill  sometimes.  And  I called  him  a quantity  of  names;” 
shaking  her  head  over  her  work,  and  dropping  tears. 
‘‘1  don’t  know  that  his  going  wrong  was  much  the 
worse  for  me.  If  it  ever  was,  let  us  forget  it.” 

You  are  q.  good  girl,  you  are  a patient  girl.” 

^^As  for  patience,”  she  would  reply  with  a shrug, 
*^'not  much  of  that,  godmother.  If  I had  been  patient, 
I should  never  have  called  him  names.  But  I hope  I 
did  it  for  his  good.  And  besides,  I felt  my  respon- 
sibility as  a mother  so  much.  I tried  reasoning,  and 
reasoning  failed.  I tried  coaxing,  and  coaxing  failed. 
I tried  scolding,  and  scolding  failed.  But  I was  bound 
to  try  everything,  you  know,  with  such  a charge  upon 
my  hands.  Where  would  have  been  my  duty  to  my 
poor  lost  boy,  if  I had  not  tried  everything?”  • 

With  such  xalk,  mostly  in  a cheerful  tone  on  the  part 
of  the  industrious  little  creature,  the  day  work  and  the 
night  work  were  beguiled  until  enough  of  smart  dolls 
had  gone  forth  to  bring  into  the  kitchen,  where  the 
working-bench  now  stood,  the  sombre  stuff  that  the 
occasion  required,  and  to  bring  into  the  house  the  other 
sombre  preparations.  ^“^And  now,”  said  Miss  Jenny, 
^Hiaving  knocked  off  my  rosy-cheeked  young  friends. 
I’ll  knock  off  my  white-cheeked  self.”  This  referred  to 
her  making  her  own  dress,  which  at  last  was  done. 
^/The  disadvantage  of  making  for  yourself,”  said  Miss 
Jenny,  as  she  stood  upon  a chair  to  look  at  the  result  in 
the  ^lass,  ^Hs,  that  you  can’t  charge  anybody  else  for 
the  job,  and  the  advantage  is,  that  you  haven’t  to  go 


336 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


out  to  try  on.  Humph!  Very  fair  indeed!  If  He  could 
see  me  now  (whoever  he  is)  I hope  he  v/ouldn’t  repent 
of  his  bargain ! ’’ 

The  simple  arrangements  were  of  her  own  making, 
and  were  stated  to  Riah  thus: 

I mean  to  go  alone,  godmother,  in  my  usual  carriage, 
and  you’ll  be  so  kimj  as  keep  house  while  I am«gone. 
It's  not  far  off.  And,  when  I return,  we’ll  have  a cup  of 
tea,  and  a chat  over  future  arrangements.  It’s  a very 
plain  last  house  that  I have  been  able  to  give  my  poor 
unfortunate  boy;  but  he’ll  accept  the  will  for  the  deed, 
if  he  knows  anything  about  it;  and  if  he  doesn’t  know 
anything  about  it,”  with  a sob,  and  wiping  her  eyes, 

why,  it  won’t  matter  to  him.  I see  the  service  in  the 
Prayer-book  says,  that  we  brought  nothing  into  this 
world,  and  it  is  certain  we  can  take  nothing  out.  It 
comforts  me  for  not  being  able  to  hire  a lot  of  stupid 
undertaker’s  things  for  my  poor  child,  and  seeming  as  if 
I was  trying  to  smuggle  ’em  out  of  this  world  with 
him,  when  of  course  I must  break  down  in  the  attempt 
and  bring  ’em  all  back  again.  As  it  is,  there’ll  be  noth- 
ing to  bring  back  but  me,  and  that’s  quite  consistent, ' 
for  I shan’t  be  brought  back,  some  day  ! ” 

After  that  previous  carrying  of  him  in  the  streets,  the 
wretched  old  fellow  seemed  to  be  twice  buried.  He 
was  taken  on  the  shoulders  of  half-a-dozen  blossom- 
faced men,  who  shuffled  with  him  to  the  churchyard, 
and  who  were  preceded  by  another  blossom-faced  man, 
affecting  a stately  stalk,  as  if  he  were  a policeman  of 
the  D(eath)  Division,  and  ceremoniously  pretending  not 
to  know  his  intimate  acquaintances,  as  healed  the  pag- 
eant. Yet  the  spectacle  of  only  one  little  mourner 
hobbling  after,  caused  many  people  to  turn  their  heads 
with  a look  of  interest. 

At  last  the  troublesome  deceased  was  got  into  the 
ground,  to  be  buried  no  more,  and  the  stately  stalker 
stalked  back  before  the  solitary  dressmaker,  as  if  she 
were  bound  in  honour  to  have  no  notion  of  the  way 
home.  Those  furies,  the  conventionalities,  being  thus 
appeased,  he  left  her. 

^‘1  must  have  a very  short  cry,  godmother,  before  I 
cheer  up  for  good,”  said  the  little  creature,  coming  in. 

Because  after  all  a child  is  a child,  you  know.” 

It  was  a longer  cry  than  might  have  been  expected. 


TWO  PLACES  VACATED. 


33? 


Howbeit,  it  wore  itself  out  in  a shadowy  corner,  and  then 
the  dressmaker  came  forth,  and  washed  her  face,  and 
made  the  tea.  ^Wou  wouldn’t  mind  my  cutting  out 
something  while  we  are  at  tea,  would  you  ? ” she  asked 
her  Jewish  friend,  with  a coaxing  air. 

Cinderella,  dear  child,”  the  old  man  expostulated, 

will  you  never  rest  ? ” 

Oh  ! It’s  not  work,  cutting  out  a pattern  isn’t,”  said 
Miss  Jenny,  with  her  busy  little  scissors  already  snip- 
ping at  some  paper.  The  truth  is,  godmother,  I want 
to  fix  it  while  I have  it  correct  in  my  mind.” 

Have  you  seen  it  to-day,  then  ?”  asked  Eiah. 

‘Wes,  godmother.  Saw  it  just  now.  It’s  a surplice, 
that’s  what  it  is.  Thing  our  clergymen  wear,  you 
know,”  explained  Miss  Jenny  in  consideration  of  his 
professing  another  faith. 

“And  what  have  you  to  do  with  that,  Jenny?” 

“Why,  godmother,”  replied  the  dressmaker,  “you^ 
must  know  that  we  Professors  who  live  upon  our  taste 
and  invention,  are  obliged  to  keep  our  eyes  always 
open.  And  you  know  already  that  I have  many  extra 
expenses  to  meet  just  now.  So,  it  came  into  my  head, 
while  I was  weeping  at  my  poor  boy’s  grave,  that  some- 
thing in  my  way  might  be  done ’with  a clergyman.” 

“ What  can  be  done?”  asked  the  old  man. 

“Not  a funeral,  never  fear!”  returned  Miss  Jenny, 
anticij^ting  his  objection  with  a nod.  “ The  public 
don’t  like  to  be  made  melancholy,  I know  very  well.  I 
am  seldom  called  upon  to  put  my  young  friends  into 
mourning;  not  into  real  mourning,  that  is;  Court  mourn- 
ing they  are  rather  proud  of.  But  a doll  clergyman, 
my  dear — glossy  black  curls  and  whiskers — uniting  t wo 
of  my  young  friends  in  matrimony,”  said  Miss  Jenny, 
shaking  her  forefinger,  “is  quite  another  affair.  If 
you  don’t  see  those  three  at  the  altar  in  Bond  Street,  in 
a jiffey,  my  name’s  Jack  Robinson!” 

With  her  expert  little  ways  in  sharp  action,  she  had 
got  a doll  into  whitey-brown  paper  orders,  before  the 
meal  was  over,  and  was  displaying  it  for  the  edification 
of  the  Jewish  mind,  when  a knock  was  heard  at  the 
street  door.  Riah  went  to  open  it,  and  presently  came 
back,  ushering  in,  with  the  grave  and  courteous  air 
that  sat  so  well  upon  him,  a gentleman. 

The  gentleman  was  a stranger  to  the  dressmaker;  but 

VOL.  II.  22 


/ 


3:i8  OUR  MUTUAL  PRIElNTB. 

even  in  the  moment  of  his  casting  his  eyes  upon  her, 
there  was  something  in  his  manner  which  brought  to 
her  remembrance  Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn. 

Pardon  me,’’ said  the  gentleman.  ^‘You  are  the 
doll’s  dressmaker?” 

‘‘1  am  the  doll’s  dressmaker,  sir.” 

Lizzie  Hexam’s  friend?” 

Yes,  sir,”  replied  Miss  Jenny,  instantly  on  the  de- 
fensive. And  Lizzie  Hexam’s  friend.” 

Here  is  a note  from  her,  entreating  you  to  accede  to 
the  request  of  Mr.  Mortimer  Lightwood,  the  bearer. 
Mr.  Riah  chances  to  know  that  I am  Mr.  Mortimer 
Lightwood,  and  will  tell  you  so.” 

Riah  bent  his  head  in  corroboration. 

Will  you  read  the  note?” 

^Mt’s  very  short,”  said  Jenny,  with  a look  of  wonder, 
when  she  had  read  it. 

• There  was  no  time  to  make  it  longer.  Time  was  so 
very  precious.  My  dear  friend  Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn 
is  dying.” 

The  dressmaker  clasped  her  hands,  and  uttered  a 
little  piteous  cry. 

‘‘Is  dying,”  repeated  Lightwood,  with  emotion,  at 
some  distance  from  here.  He  is  sinking  under  injuries 
received  at  the  hands  of  a villain  who  attacked  him  in 
the  dark.  I come  straight  from  his  bedside.  He  is  al- 
most always  insensible.  In  a short  restless  interval  of 
sensibility,  or  partial  sensibility,  I made  out  that  he 
asked  for  you  to  be  brought  to  sit  by  him.  Hardly  re- 
lying on  my  own  interpretation  of  the  indistinct  sounds 
he  made,  I caused  Lizzie  to  hear  them.  We  were  both 
sure  that  he  asked  for  you.” 

The  dressmaker,  with  her  hands  still  clasped,  looked 
affrightedly  from  the  one  to  the  other  of  her  two  com- 
panions. 

“If  you  delay,  he  may  die  with  his  request  ungrati- 
fied, with  his  last  wish — intrusted  to  me — we  have  long 
been  much  more  than  brothers — unfulfilled.  I shall 
break  down,  if  I try  to  say  more.” 

In  a few  moments  the  black  bonnet  and  the  crutch- 
stick  were  on  duty,  the  good  Jew  was  left  in  possession 
of  the  house,  and  the  doll’s  dressmaker,  side  by  side  in 
a chaise  with  Mortimer  Lightwood,  was  posting,  out  of 
town. 


THE  DRESSMAKER’S  DISCOVERT. 


339 


CHAPTER  X. 


THE  doll’s  dressmaker  DISCOVERS  A WORD. 

DARKENED  jand  hushed  room  ; the  river  outside 


the  windows  flowing  on  to  the  vast  ocean ; a 
figure  on  the  bed,  swathed  and  bandaged  and  bound, 
lying  helpless  on  its  back,  with  its  two  useless  arms  in 
splints  at  its  sides.  Only  two  days  of  usage  so  famil- 
iarized the  little  dressmaker  with  this  scene,  that  it 
held  the  place  occupied  two  days  ago  by  the  recollec- 
tions of  years. 

He  had  scarcely  moved  since  her  arrival.  Sometimes 
his  eyes  were  open,  sometimes  closed.  When  they  were 
open,  there  was  no  meaning  in  their  unwinking  stare  at 
one  spot  straight  before  them,  unless  for  a moment  the 
brow  knitted  into  a faint  expression  of  anger  or  sur- 
prise. Then,  Mortimer  Lightwood  would  speak  to  him, 
and  on  occasions  he  would  be  so  fa.r  roused  as  to  make 
an  attempt  to  pronounce  his  friend’s  name.  But,  in  an 
instant  consciousness  was  gone  again,  and  no  spirit  of 
Eugene  was  in  Eugene’s  crushed  outer  form. 

They  provided  Jenny  with  materials  for  plying  her 
work,  and  she  had  a little  table  placed  at  the  foot  of  his 
bed.  Sitting  there,  with  her  rich  shower  of  hair  falling, 
over  the  chair-back,  they  hoped  she  might  attract  his 
notice.  With  the  same  object,  she  would  sing,  just 
above  her  breath,  when  he  opened  his  eyes,  or  she  saw 
his  brow  knit  into  that  faint  expression,  so  evanescent 
that  it  was  like  a shape  made  in  water.  But  as  yet  he 
had  not  heeded.  The  ^^they”  here  mentioned  were 
the  medical  attendant ; Lizzie,  who  was  there  in  all 
her  intervals  of  rest ; and  Lightwood,  who  never  left 
him. 

The  two  days  became  three,  and  the  three  days  be- 
came four.  At  length,  quite  unexpectedly,  he  said 
something  in  a whisper. 

What  was  it,  my  dear  Eugene  ?” 

Will  you,  Mortimer ” 

T P’’ 


^^Will  I ?” 

— Send  for  her  ?” 

My  dear  fellow,  she  is  here.” 


340 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Quite  unconscious  of  the  long  blanks  he  supposed  that 
they  were  still  speaking  together. 

The  little  dressmaker  stood  up  at  the  foot  of  the  bed, 
humming  her  song,  and  nodded  to  him  brightly. 
caiTt  shake  hands,  Jenny,’’  said  Eugene,  with  some- 
thing of  his  old  look  ; ^^but  l am  very  glad  to  see  you.” 

Mortimer  repeated  this  to  her,  for  it  could  only  be 
made  out  by  bending  over  him  and  closely  watching  his 
attempts  to  say  it.  In  a little  while,  he  added  : 

Ask  her  if  she  has  seen  the  children.” 

Mortimer  could  not  understand  this,  neither  could 
Jenny  herself,  until  he  added  : 

Ask  her  if  she  has  smelt  the  flowers  ? ” 

^^Oh!  I know  !”  cried  Jenny.  ‘‘1  understand  him 
now  ! ” Then,  Lightwood  yielded  his  place  to  her  quick 
approach,  and  she  said,  bending  over  the  bed,  with  that 
better  look  : You  mean  my  long  bright  slanting  rows 
of  children,  who  used  to  bring  me  ease  and  rest  ? You 
mean  the  children  who  used  to  take  me  up,  and  make 
me  light  ?” 

Eugene  smiled,  Yes.  ” 

I have  not  seen  them  since  I saw  you.  I never  see 
them  now,  but  I am  hardly  ever  in  pain  now.” 

''It  was  a pretty  fancy,”  said  Eugene. 

"But  I have  heard  my  birds  sing,”  cried  the  little 
creature,  " and  I have  smelt  my  flowers.  Yes,  indeed 
I have ! And  both  were  most  beautiful  and  most 
Divine  ! ” 

" Stay  and  help  to  nurse  me,”  said  Eugene,  quietly. 
" I should  like  you  to  have  the  fancy  here,  before  I die.” 

She  touched  his  lips  with  her  hand,  and  shaded  her 
eyes  with  that  same  hand  as  she  w*ent  back  to  her  work 
and  her  little  low  song.  He  heard  the  song  with  evident 
pleasure,  until  she  allowed  it  gradually  to  sink  away 
into  silence. 

"Mortimer.” 

* " My  dear  Eugene.” 

"If  you  can  give  me  anything  to  keep  me  here  for 
only  a few  minutes ” 

" To  keep  you  here,  Eugene  ? ” 

" To  prevent  my  wandering  away  I don’t  know  where 
— for  I begin  to  be  sensible  th^at  I have  just  come  back, 
and  that  I shall  lose  myself  again — do  so,  dear  boy  ! ” 

Mortimer  gave  him  such  stimulants  as  could  be  given 


THE  DRESSMAKER’S  DISCOVERY. 


341 


him  with  safety  (they  were  always  at  hand,  ready),  and, 
bending  over  him  once  more,  was  about  to  caution  him, 
when  he  said  : 

Don’t  tell  me  not  to  speak,  for  I must  speak.  If  you 
knew  the  harassing  anxiety  that  gnaws  and  wears  me 
when  I am  wandering  in  those  places — where  are  those 
endless  places,  Mortimer?  They  must  be  at  an  immense 
distance  ! ” 

He  saw  in  his  friend’s  face  that  he  was  losing  himself; 
for  he  added  after  a moment:  Don’t  be  afraid — I am 

not  gone  yet.  What  was  it  ? ” 

^Wou  wanted  to  tell  me  something,  Eugene.  My  poor 
dear  fellow,  you  wanted  to  say  something  to  your  old 
friend — to  the  friend  who  has  always  loved  you,  ad- 
mired you,  imitated  you,  founded  himself  upon  you, 
been  nothing  without  you,  and  who,  God  knows,  would 
be  here  in  your  place  if  he  could  ! ” 

Tut,  tut!  ” said  Eugene  with  a tender  glance  as  the 
other  put  his  hand  before  his  face.  am  not  worth 
it.  I acknowledge  that  I like  it,  dear  boy,  but  I am 
not  worth  it.  This  attack,  my  dear  Mortimer;  this 
murder ” 

His  friend  leaned  over  him  with  renewed  attention, 
saying:  You  andT  suspect  some  one.” 

More  than  suspect.  But,  Mortimer,  while  I lie  here, 
and  when  I lie  here  no  longer,  I trust  to  you  that  the» 
perpetrator  is  never  brought  to  justice.” 

'^Eugene!” 

Her  innocent  reputation  would  be  ruined,  my  friend. 
She  would  be  punished,  not  he.  I have  wronged  her 
enough  in  fact;  I have  wronged  her  still  more  in  inten- 
tiom  You  recollect  what  pavement  is  said  to  be  made 
of  good  intentions.  It  is  made  of  bad  intentions  too. 
Mortimer,  I am  lying  on  it,  and  I know!’ 

^^Be  comforted,  my  dear  Eugene.” 

I will,  when  you  have  promised  me.  Dear  Morti- 
mer, the  man  must  never  be  pursued.  If  he  should  be 
accused,  you  must  keep  him  silent  and  save  him.  Don’t 
think  of  avenging  me;  think  only  of  hushing  the  story 
and  protecting  her.  You  can  confuse  the  case,  and 
turn  aside  the  circumstances.  Listen  to  what  I say  to 
you.  It  was  not  the  schoolmaster,  Bradley  Headstone, 
bo  you  hear  me?  Twice;  it  was  not  the  schoolmaster; 
Bradley  Headstone.  Do  you  hear  me?  Three  times. 


342 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


it  was  not  the  schoolmaster,  Bradley  Headstone!” 

He  stopped,  exhausted.  His  speech  had  been  whis- 
pered, broken,  and  indistinct;  but,  by  a great  effort,  he 
had  made  it  plain  enough  to  be  unmistakable. 

Dear  fellow,  I am  wandering  away.  Stay  me  for 
another  moment,  if  you  can.” 

Lightwood  lifted  his  head  at  the  neck,  and  put  a wine- 
glass to  his  lips.  He  rallied. 

don’t  knowhow  long  ago  it  was  done,  whether 
weeks,  days,  or  hours.  No  matter.  There  is  inquiry  on 
foot,  and  pursuit.  Say!  Is  there  not?” 

^^Yes.” 

Check  it;  divert  it!  Don’t  let  her  be  brought  in  ques- 
tion. Shield  her.  The  guilty  man,  brought  to  justice, 
would  poison  her  name.  Let  the  guilty  man  go  un- 
punished. Lizzie  and  my  reparation  before  all!  Promise 
me!  ” 

Eugene,  I do.  I promise  you!” 

In  the  act  of  turning  his  eyes  gratefully  towards  his 
friend,  he  wandered  away.  His  eyes  stood  still,  and 
settled  into  that  former  intent  unmeaning  stare. 

Hours  and  hour^,  days  and  nights,  he  remained  in 
this  same  condition.  There  were  times  when  he  would 
calmly  speak  to  his  friend  after  a*  long  period  of  un- 
consciousness, and  would  saj^  he  was  better,  and  would 
ask  for  something.  Before  it  could  be  given  him  he 
would  be  gone  again. 

The  doll’s  dressmaker,  all  softened  compassion  now, 
watched  him  with  an  earnestness  that  never  relaxed. 
She  would  regularly  change  the  ice,  or  the  cooling  spirit, 
on  his  head,  and  would  keep  her  ear  at  the  pillow  be- 
tweenwhiles,  listening  for  any  faint  words  that  fell  l^om 
him  in  his  wanderings.  It  was  amazing  through  how 
many  hours  at  a time  she  would  remain  beside  him,  in 
a crouching  attitude,  attentive  to  his  slightest  moan. 
As  he  could  not  move  a hand,  he  could  make  no  sign  of 
distress;  but,  through  this  close  watching  (if  through 
no  secret  sympathy  oV  power)  the  little  creature  attained 
an  understanding  of  him  that  Lightwood  did  not  pos- 
sess. Mortimer  would  often  turn  to  her,  as  if  she  were 
an  interpreter  between  this  sentient  world  and  the  in- 
sensible man;  and  she  would  change  the  dressing  of  a 
wound,  or  ease  a ligature,  or  turn  his  face,  or  alter  the 
pressure  of  the  bed-clothes  on  him,  with  an  absolute 


THE  DRESSMAKER’S  DISCOVERY. 


343 


certainty  of  doing  right.  The  natural  lightness  and 
delicacy  of  touch  which  had  become  very  refined 
practice  in  her  miniature  work,  no  doubt  was  involved 
in  this;  but  her  perception  was  at  least  as  fine. 

The  one  word,  Lizzie,  he  muttered  millions  of  times. 
In  a certain  phase  of  his  distressful  state,  which  was 
the  worst  to  those  who  tended  him,  he  would  roll  his 
head  upon  the  pillow,  incessantly  repeating  the  name 
in  a hurried  and  impatient  manner,  with  the  misery 
of  a disturbed  mind,  and  the  monotony  of  a machine. 
Equally,  when  he  lay  still  and  staring,  he  would  re- 
peat it  for  hours  without  cessation,  but  then,  always 
in  a tone  of  subdued  warning  and  horror.  Her  presence 
and  her  touch  upon  his  breast  or  face  would  often  stop 
this,  and  then  they  learned  to  expect  that  he  would  for 
some  time  remain  still,  with  his  eyes  closed,  and  that 
he  would  be  conscious  on  opening  them.  But,  the 
heavy  disappointment  of  their  hope — revived  by  the 
welcome  silence  of  the  room — was,  that  his  spirit  would 
glide  away  again  and  be  lost,  in  the  moment  of  their 
joy  that  it  was  there. 

This  frequent  rising  of  a drowning  man  from  the  deep, 
to  sink  again,  was  dreadful  to  the  beholders.  But, 
gradually  the  change  stole  upon  him  that  it  became 
dreadful  to  himself.  His  desire  to  impart  something 
that  was  on  his  mind,  his  unspeakable  yearning  to  have 
speech  with  his  friend  and  make  a communication  to 
him,  so  troubled  him  when  he  recovered  consciousness, 
that  its  term  was  thereby  shortened.  As  the  man  rising 
from  the  deep  would  disappear  the  sooner  for  fighting 
with  the  water,  so  he  in  his  desperate  struggle  went 
down  again. 

One  afternoon  when  hb  had  been  lying  still,  and 
Lizzie,  unrecognised,  had  just  stolen  out  of  the  room  to 
pursue  her  occupation,  he  uttered  Lightwood’s  name. 

My  dear  Eugene,  I am  here.” 

How  long  is  this  to  last,  Mortimer?  ” 

Lightwood  shook  his  head.  Still,  Eugene,  you  are 
no  worse  than  you  were.” 

But  I know  there’s  no  hope.  Yet  I pray  it  may  last 
long  enough  for  you  to  do  me  one  last  service,  and  for 
me  to  do  one  last  action.  Keep  me  here  a few 
moments,  Mortimer.  Try,  Try!” 

His  friend  gave  him  what  aid  he  could,  and  encour- 


844 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


aged  him  to  believe  he  was  more  composed,  though 
even  then  his  eyes  were  losing  the  expression  they  so 
rarely  recovered. 

‘^Hold  me  here,  dear  fellow,  if  you  can.  Stop  my 
wandering  away.  I am  going!” 

‘^Not  yet,  not  yet.  Tell  me,  dear  Eugene,  what  is  it 
I shall  do?” 

Keep  me  here  for  only  a single  minute.  I am  going 
away  again.  Don’t  let  me  go.  Hear  me  speak  first. 
Stop  me — stop  me ! ” 

''  My  poor  Eugene,  try  to  be  calm.” 

I do  try.  I try  so  hard.  If  you  only  knew  how 
hard!  Don’t  let  me  wander  till  I have  spoken.  Give 
me  a little  more  wine.” 

Lightwood  complied.  Eugene,  with  a most  pathetic 
struggle  against  the  unconsciousness  that  was  coming 
over  him,  and  with  a look  of  appeal  that  affected  his 
friend  profoundly,  said; 

You  can  leave  me  with  Jenny,  while  you  speak  to 
her  and  tell  her  what  I beseech  of  her.  You  can  leave 
me  with  Jenny  while  you  are  gone.  There’s  not  much 
for  you  to  do.  You  won’t  be  long  away.” 

^^No,  no,  no.  But  tell  me  what  it  is  I shall  do 
Eugene!” 

I am  going!  You  can’t  hold  me.” 

Tell  me  in  a word,  Eugene!  ” 

His  eyes  were  fixed  again,  and  the  only  word  that 
came  from  his  lips  was  the  word  millions  of  times  re- 
peated. Lizzie,  Lizzie,  Lizzie. 

But,  the  watchful  little  dressmaker  had  been  vigi- 
lant as  ever  in  her  watch,  and  she  now  came  up  and 
touched  Lightwood’s  arm  as  he  looked  down  at  his 
friend,  despairingly.  • 

Hush!”  she  said,  with  her  finger  on  her  lips.  ''  His 
eyes  are  closing.  He’ll  be  conscious  when  he  next 
opens  them.  Shall  I give  you  a leading  word  to  say  to 
him?” 

O Jenny,  if  you  could  only  give  me  the  right  word!  ” 

^^I  can.  Stoop  down.” 

He  stooped,  and  she  whispered  in  his  ear.  She 
whispered  in  his  ear  one  short  word  of  a single  sylla- 
ble. Lightwood  started,  and  looked  at  her. 

^^Try  it,”  said  the  little  creature,  with  an  excited 
and  exultant  face.  She  then  bent  over  the  uncon- 


THE  DRESSMAKER’S  DISCOVERY. 


345 


scious  man,  and,  for  the  first  time,  kissed  him  on  the 
cheek,  and  kissed  the  poor  maimed  hand  that  was 
nearest  to  her.  Then  she  withdrew  to  the  foot  of  the 
bed. 

Some  two  hours  afterwards,  Mortimer  Lightwood 
saw  his  consciousness  come  back,  and  instantly,  but 
very  tranquilly,  bent  over  him. 

Don’t  speak,  Eugene.  Do  no  more  than  look  at 
me,  afid  listen  to  me.  You  follow  what  I say.” 

He  moved  his  head  in  assent. 

I am  going  on  from  the  point  where  we  broke  off. 
Is  the  word  we  should  soon  have  come  to — is  it — 
Wife?” 

Oh,  God  bless  you,  Mortimer!” 

Hush  ! Don’t  be  agitated.  Don’t  speak.  Hear  me, 
dear  Eugene.  Your  mind  will  be  more  at  peace,  lying 
here,  if  you  make  Lizzie  your  wife.  You  wish  me  to 
speak  to  her.  and  tell  her  so,  and  entreat  her  to  be  your 
wife.  You  ask  her  to  kneel  at  this  bedside  and  be 
married  to  you,  that  your  reparation  may  be  complete. 
Is  that  so?” 

'‘Yes.  God  bless  you!  Yes.” 

"It  shall  be  done,  Eugene.  Trust  it  to  me.  I shall 
have  to  go  away  for  some  few  hours,  to  give  effect  to 
your  wishes.  You  see  this  is  unavoidable  ?” 

"Dear  friend,  I said  so.” 

" True.  But  I had  not  the  clue  then.  How  do  you 
think  I got  it  ? ” 

Glancing  wistfully  around,  Eugene  saw  Miss  Jenny 
at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  looking  at  him  with  her  elbows  on 
the  bed,  and  her  head  upon  her  hands.  There  was  a trace 
of  his  whimsical  air  upon  him,  as  he  tried  to  smile  at  her. 

"Yes,  indeed,”  said  Lightwood,  "the  discovery  was 
hers.  Observe,  my  dear  Eugene ; while  I am  away 
you  will  know  that  I have  discharged  my  trust  with 
Lizzie,  by  finding  her  here,  in  my  present  place  at  your 
bedside,  to  leave  you  no  more.  A final  word  before  I 
go.  This  is  the  right  course  of  a true  man,  Eugene. 
And  I solemnly  believe,  with  all  my  soul,  that  if  Provi- 
dence should  mercifully  restore  you  to  us,  you  will  be 
blessed  with  a noble  wife  in  the  preserver  of  your  life, 
whom  you  will  dearly  love.” 

"Amen.  I am  sure  of  that.  But  I shall  not  come 
through  it,  Mortimer,” 


346 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


You  will  not  be  the  less  hopeful  or  less  strong  for 
this,  Eugene.” 

No.  Touch  my  face  with  yours,  in  case  I should 
not  hold  out  till  you  come  back.  I love  you,  Mortimer. 
Don’t,  be  uneasy  for  me  while  you  are  gone.  If  my 
dear  brave  girl  will  take  me,  I feel  persuaded  that  I 
shall  live  long  enough  to  be  married,  dear  fellow.” 

Miss  Jenny  gave  up  altogether  on  this  parting  taking 
place  between  the  friends,  and,  sitting  with  her  back 
towards  the  bed  in  the  bower  made  by  her  bright  hair, 
wept  heartily,  though  noiselessly.  Mortimer  Light- 
wood  was  soon  gone.  As  the  evening  light  lengthened 
the  heavy  reflections  of  the  trees  in  the  river,  another 
figure  came  with  a soft  step  into  the  sick-room. 

'^Is  he  conscious?”  asked  the  little  dressmaker,  as 
the  figure  took  its  station  by  the  pillow.  For,  Jenny 
had  giveij  place  to  it  immediately,  and  could  not  see 
the  sufferer’s  face,  in  the  dark  room,  from  her  new  and 
removed  position. 

^^He  is  conscious,  Jenny,”  murmured  Eugene  for 
himself.  He  knows  his  wife.” 


CHAPTER  XI. 

EFFECT  IS  GIVEN  TO  THE  DOLL’S  DRESSMAKER’S  DISCOVERY. 

Mrs.  JOHN  ROKESMITH  sat  at  needlework  in  her 
neat  little  room,  beside  a basket  of  neat  little  ar- 
ticles of  clothing,  which  presented  so  much  of  the  ap- 
pearance of  being  in  the  doll’s  dressmaker’s  way  of 
business,  that  one  might  have  supposed  she  was  going 
to  set  up  in  opposition  to  Miss  Wren.  Whether  the 
Complete  British  Family  Housewife  had  imparted  sage 
council  anent  them,  did  not  appear,  but  probably  not, 
as  that  cloudy  oracle  was  nowhere  visible.  For  certain, 
however,  Mrs.  John  Rokesmith  stitched  at  them  with  so 
dexterous  a hand,  that  she  must  have  taken  lessons  of 
somebody.  Love  is  in  all  things  a most  wonderful 
teacher,  and  perhaps  (love  from  a pictorial  point  of 
view,  with  nothing  on  but  a thimble),  had  been  teach- 
ing this  branch  of  needlework  to  Mrs.  John  Roke- 
smith. 

It  was  near  John’s  time  for  coming  home,  but  as  Mrs. 


EFFECT  IS  GIVEN  TO  THE  DISCOVERY.  347 

John  was  desirous  to  finish  a special  triumph  of  her 
skill  before  dinner^  she  did  not  go  out  to  meet  him. 
Placidly,  though  rather  consequentially  smiling,  she 
sat  stitching  away  with  a regular  sound,  like  a sort  of 
dimpled  little  charming  Dresden-china  clock  by  the 
very  best  maker. 

A knock  at  the  door,  and  a ring  at  the  bell.  Not 
John;  or  Bella  would  have  fiown  out  to  meet  him. 
Then  who,  if  not  John  ? Bella  was  asking  herself  the 
question,  when  that  fiuttering  little  fool  of  a servant 
fluttered  in,  saying,  ^^Mr.  Lightwood  ! 

Oh,  good  gracious  ! 

Bella  had  but  time  to  throw  a handkerchief  over  the 
basket,  when  Mr.  Lightwood  made  his  bow.  There 
was  something  amiss  with  Mr.  Lightwood,  for  he  was 
strangely  grave  and  looked  ill. 

V^ith  a brief  reference  to  the  happy  time  when  it  had 
been  his  privilege  to  know  Mrs.  Rokesmith  as  Miss 
Wilfer,  Mr.  Lightwood  explained  what  was  amiss  with 
him  and  why  he  came.  He  came  bearing  Lizzie  Hex- 
am’s  earnest  hope  that  Mrs.  John  Rokesmith  would  see 
her  married. 

Bella  was  so  fluttered  . by  the  request,  and  by  the  short 
narrative  he  had  feelingly  given  her,  that  there  never 
was  a more  timely  smelling-bottle  than  John’s  knock. 

My  husband,”  said  Bella  ; IJl  bring  him  in.” 

But,  that  turned  out  to  be  more  easily  said  than 
done;  for,  the  instant  she  mentioned  Mr.  Light  wood’s 
name,  John  stopped,  with  his  hand  upon  the  lock  of  the 
room  door. 

^^Come  up  stairs,  my  darling.” 

Bella  was  amazed  by  the  flush  in  his  face,  and  by 
his  sudden  turning  away.  ^^What  can  it  mean? ’’she 
thought,  as  she  accompanied  him  up  stairs. 

Now,  my  life,”  said  John,  taking  her  on  his  knee, 

tell  me  all  about  it.” 

All  very  well  to  say,  ^^Tell  me  all  about  it;”  but 
John  was  very  much  confused.  His  attention  evident- 
ly trailed  off,  now  and  then,  even  while  Bella  told  him 
all  about  it.  Yet  she  knew  that  he  took  a great  interest 
in  Lizzie  and  her  fortunes.  What  could  it  mean? 

^ Won  will  come  to  this  marriage  with  me,  John  dear?  ” 

'^N — no,  my  love;  I can’t  do  that.” 

You  can’t  do  that,  John?” 


348 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


^^No,  my  dear,  it’s  quite  out  of  the  question.  Not  to 
be  thought  of.” 

Am  I to  go  alone,  John?  ” 

^^No,  my  dear,  you  will  go^with  Mr.  Lightwood.” 

Don’t  you  think  it’s  time  we  went  down  to  Mr. 
Lightwood,  John  dear?”  Bella  insinuated. 

''My  darling,  it’s  almost  time  you  went,  but  I must 
ask  you  to  excuse  me  to  him  altogether.” 

"You  never  mean,  John  dear,  that  you  are  not  going 
to  see  him?  Why,  he  knows  you  have  come  home.  I 
told  him  so.” 

"That’s  a little  unfortunate,  but  it  can’t  be  helped. 
Unfortunate  or  fortunate,  I positively  cannot  see  him, 
my  love.” 

Bella  cast  about  in  her  mind  what  could  be  his  reason 
for  this  unaccountable  behaviour,  as  she  sat  on  his 
knee  looking  at  him  in  astonishment  and  pouting  a 
little.  A weak  reason  presented  itself. 

" John  dear,  you  never  can  be  jealous  of  Mr.  Light- 
wood?” 

"Why,  my  precious  child,”  returned  her  husband, 
laughing  outright:  "how  could  I be  jealous  of  him? 
Why  should  I be  jealous  of  him?” 

"Because,  you  know,  John,”  pursued  Bella,  pouting 
a little  more,  "though  he  did  rather  admire  me  once,  it 
was  not  my  fault.” 

" It  was  your  fault  that  I admired  you,”  returned  her 
husband,  with  a look  of  pride  in  her,  " and  why  not 
your  fault  that  he  admired  you  ? But,  I jealous  on 
that  account  ? Why,  I must  go  distracted  for  life,  if  I 
turned  jealous  of  every  one  who  used  to  find  my  wife 
beautiful  and  winning  ! ” 

"I  am  half  angry  with  you,  John  dear,”  said  Bella, 
laughing  a little,  "and  half  pleased  with  you;  because 
you  are  such  a stupid  old  fellow,  and  yet  you  say  nice 
things,  as  if  you  meant  them.  Don’t  be  mysterious,  sir. 
What  harm  do  you  know  of  Mr.  Lightwood  ? ” 

"None,  my  love.” 

" What  has  he  ever  done  to  you,  John  ? ” 

"He  has  never  done  anything  to  me,  my  dear.  I 
know  no  more  against  him  than  I know  against  Mr. 
Wrayburn;  he  has  never  done  anything  to  me;  neither 
has  Mr.  Wrayburn.  And  yet  I have  exactly  the  same 
objection  to  both  of  them.” 


EFFECT  IS  GIVEN  TO  THE  DISCOVERY.  340 


Oh,  John  retorted  Bellai*  as  if  she  were  giving 
him  up  for  a bad  job,  as  she  used  to  give  up  herself. 
‘'You  are  nothing  better  than  a sphinx.  And  a married 
sphinx  isn’t  a — isn’t  a nice  confidential  husband,”  said 
Bella,  in  a tone  of  injury. 

"Bella,  my  life,”  said  John  Rokesmith,  touching  her 
cheek,  with  a grave  smile,  as  she  cast  doAvn  her  eyes  and 
pouted  again;  "look  at  me.  I want  to  speak  to  you.” 

"In  earnest.  Blue  Beard  of  the  secret  chamber?” 
asked  Bella,  clearing  her  pretty  face. 

" In  earnest.  And  I confess  to  the  secret  chamber. 
Don’t  you  remember  that  you  asked  me  not  to  declare 
what  I thought  of  your  higher  qualities  until  you  had 
been  tried  ? ” 

"Yes,  John  dear,  j^nd  I fully  meant  it,  and  I fully 
mean  it.” 

"The  time  will  come,  my  darling — I am  no  prophet, 
but  I say  so — when  you  will  be  tried.  The  time  will 
come,  I think,  when  you  will  undergo  a trial  through 
which  you  will  never  pass  quite  triumphantly  for  me, 
unless  you  can  put  perfect  faith  in  me.” 

"Then  you  may  be  sure  of  me,  John  dear,  for  I can 
put  perfect  faith  in  you,  and  I do,  and  I always,  always 
will.  Don’t  judge  me.  by  a little  thing  like  this,  John. 
In  little  things,  I am  a little  thing  myself — l always  was. 
But  in  great  things,  I hope  not;  I don’t  mean  to  boast, 
John  dear,  but  I hope  not ! ” 

He  was  even  better  convinced  of  the  truth  of  what 
she  said  than  she  was,  as  he  felt  her  loving  arms  about 
him.  If  the  Golden  Dustman’s. riches  had  been  his  to 
stake,  he  would  have  staked  them  to  the  last  farthing 
on  the  fidelity  through  good  and  evil  of  her  affectionate 
and  trusting  heart. 

"Now,  I’ll  go  down  to,  and  go  away  with  Mr.  Light- 
wood,”  said  Bella,  springing  up.  "You  are  the  most 
creasing  and  tumbling  Clumsy-Boots  of  a packer,  John, 
that  ever  was;  but  if  yon  re  quite  good,  and  will  promise 
never  to  do  so  any  more  (though  I don’t  know  what  you 
have  done  !)  you  may  pack  me  a little  bag  for  a night, 
while  I get  my  bonnet  on.” 

He  gaily  complied,  and  she  tied  her  dimpled  chin  up, 
and  shook  her  head  into  her  bonnet,  and  pulled  out  the 
bows  of  her  bonnet-strings,  and  got  her  gloves  on,  finger 
by  finger,  and  finally  got  them  on  her  little  plump  hands, 


350 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


and  bade  him  good-by5  and  went  down.  Mr.  Light- 
wood’s  impatience  was  much  relieved  when  he  found 
her  dressed  for  departure. 

Mr.  Rokesmith  goes  with  us  ? ” he  said,  hesitating, 
with  a look  towards  the  door. 

Oh,  I forgot!”  replied  Bella.  ^^His  best  compli- 
ments. His  face  is  swollen  to  the  size  of  two  faces,  and 
he  is  to  go  to  bed  directly,  poor  fellow,  to  wait  for  the 
doctor,  who  is  coming  to  lance  him.” 

^Ht  is  curious,”  observed  Lightwood,  ^^that  I have 
never  yet  seen  Mr.  Rokesmith,  though  we  have  been 
engaged  in  the  same  affairs.” 

Really?”  said  the  unblushing  Bella. 

I begin  ito  think,”  observed  Lightwood,  that  I 
never  shall  see  him.” 

These  things  happen  so  oddly  sometimes,”  said 
Bella  with  a steady  countenance,  ^^that  there  seems 
a kind  of  fatality  .in  them.  But  I am  quite  ready,  Mr. 
Lightwood.” 

They  started  directly,  in  a little  carriage  that  Light- 
wood had  brought  with  him  from  never-to-be-forgot- 
ten Greenwich ; and  from  Greenwich  they  started 
directly  for  London;  and  in  London  they  waited  at  a 
railway  station  until  such  time  as  the  Reverend  Frank 
Milvey,  and  Margaretta  his  wife,  with  whom  Mortimer 
Lightwood  had  been  already  in  conference,  should  come 
and  join  them. 

That  worthy  couple  were  delayed  by  a portentous  old 
parishioner  of  the  female  gender,  who  was  one  of  the 
plagues  of  their  lives,  and  with  whom  they  bore  with 
most  exemplary  sweetness  and  good-humour,  notwith- 
standing her  having  an  infection  of  absurdity  about 
her,  that  communicated  itself  to  everything  with  which, 
and  everybody  with  whom,  she  came  in  contact.  She 
was  a member  of  the  Reverend  Frank’s  congregation, 
and  made  a point  of  distinguishing  herself  in  that 
body  by  conspicuously  weeping  at  everything,  how- 
ever cheering,  said  by  the  Reverend  Frank  in  his  public 
ministration;  also  by  applying  to  herself  the  various 
lamentations  of  David,  and  complaining  in  a personally 
injured  manner  (much  in  arrear  of  the  clerk  and  the 
rest  of  ^ the  respondents)  that  her  enemies  were  dig- 
ging pit-falls  about  her,  and  breaking  her  with  rods 
of  iron.  Indeed,  this  old  widow  discharged  herself  of 


EFFECT  IS  GIVEN  TO  THE  DISCOVERY.  351 


that  portion  of  the  Morning  and  Evening  Service  as 
if  she  were  lodging  a complaint  on  oath  and  applying 
for  a warrant  before  a magistrate.  But  this  was  not 
her  most  inconvenient  characteristic,  for  that  took  the 
form  of  an  impression,  usually  recurring  ‘in  inclement 
weather  and  at  about  daybreak,  that  she  had  something- 
on  her  mind  and  stood  in  immediate  need  of  the  Rev- 
erend Frank  to  come  and  take  it  off.  Many  a time 
had  that  kind  creature  got  up,  and  gone  out  to  Mrs. 
Sprodgkin  (such  was  the  disciple’s  name),  suppressing 
a strong  sense  of  her  comicality  by  his  strong  sense  of 
duty,  and  perfectly  knowing  that  nothing  but  a cold 
would  come  of  it.  However,  beyond  themselves,  the 
Reverend  Frank  Milvey  and  Mrs.  Milvey  seldom  hinted 
that  Mrs.  Sprodgkin  was  hardly  worth  the  trouble  she 
gave;  but  both  made  the  best  of  her,  as  they  did  of 
all  their  troubles. 

This  very  exacting  member  of  the  fold  appeared  to  be 
endowed  with  a sixth  sense,  in  regard  of  kno.wing  when 
the  Reverend  Frank  Milvey  least  desired  her  company, 
and  with  promptitude  appearing  in  his  little  hall.  Con- 
sequently, when  the  Reverend  Frank  had  willingly 
engaged  that  he  and  his  wife  v/ould  accompany  Li^t- 
wood  back,  he  said,  as  a matter  of  course  : We  must 
make  haste  to  get  out,  Margaretta,  my  dear,  or  we  shall 
be  descended  on  by  Mrs.  Sprodgkin.”  To  which  Mrs. 
Milvey  replied,  in  her  pleasantly  emphatic  way,  Oh 
yes,  for  she  is  such  a marplot,  Frank,  and  does  worry 
so!”  Words  that  were • scarcely  uttered  when  their 
theme  was  announced  as  in  faithful  attendance  below, 
desiring  counsel  on  a spiritual  matter.  The  points  on 
which  Mrs.  Sprodgkin  sought  elucidation  being  seldom 
of  a pressing  nature  (as  Who  begat  Whom,  or  some  in- 
formation concerning  the  Amorites),  Mrs.  Milvey  on  this 
special  occasion  resorted  to  the  device  of  buying  her  off 
with  a present  of  tea  and  sugar,  and  a loaf  and  butter. 
These  gifts  Mrs.  Sprodgkin  accepted,  but  still  insisted 
on  dutifully  remaining  in  the  hall,  to  curtsy  to  the 
Reverend  Frank  as  he  came  forth.  Who,  incautiously^- 
saying,  in  his  genial  manner,  Well,  Sally,  there  you 
are!”  involved  himself  in  a discursive  address  from 
Mrs.  Sprodgkin,  revolving  around  the  result  that  she 
regarded  tea  and  sugar  in  the  light  of  myrrh  and  frank- 
incense, and  considered  bread  and  butter  identical  with 


352 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


locusts  and  wild  honey.  Having  communicated  this 
edifying  piece  of  information^  Mrs.  Sprodgkin  was  left 
still  unadjourned  in  the  hall,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Milvey 
hurried  in  a heated  condition  to  the  railway  station. 
All  of  which  is  here  recorded  to  the  honour  of  that  good 
Christian  pair,  representatives  of  hundreds  of  other 
good  Christian  pairs  as  conscientious  and  as  useful, 
who  merge  the  smallness  of  their  work  in  its  greatness, 
and  feel  in  no  danger  of  losing  dignity  when  they 
adapt  themselves  to  incomprehensible  humbugs. 

Detained  at  the  last  moment  by  one  who  had  a 
claim  upon  me,’’  was  the  Reverend  Frank’s  apology  to 
Lightwood,  taking  no  thought  of  himself.  To  which 
Mrs.  Milvey  added,  taking  thought  for  him,  like  the 
championing  little  wife  she  was  ; Oh  yes,  detained  at 
the  last  moment.  But  as  to  the  claim,  Frank,  I must 
say  that  I do  think  you  are  ot’cr-considerate  sometimes, 
and  allow  that  to  be  a little  abused.” 

Bella  felt  conscious,  in  spite  of  her  late  pledge  for 
herself,  that  her  husband’s  absence  would  give  disa- 
greeable occasion  for  surprise  to  the  Milvey s.  Nor  could 
she  appear  quite  at  her  ease  when  Mrs.  Milvey  asked  : 

How  is  Mr.  Rokesmith,  and  is  he  gone  before  us,  or 
does  he  follow  us  ? ” 

It  becoming  necessary,  upon  this,  to  send  him  to  bed 
again  and  hold  him  in  waiting  to  be  lanced  again, 
Bella  did  it.  But  not  half  as  well  on  the  second  occa- 
sion as  on  the  first  ; for,  a twice-told  white  one  seems 
almost  to  become  a black  one;  when  you  are  not  used 
to  it. 

^^Oh  dear  said  Mrs.  Milvey,  am  so  sorry  ! Mr. 
Rokesmith  took  such  an  interest  in  Lizzie  Hexam,  when 
we  were  there  before.  And  if  we  had  only  known  of 
his  face,  we  could  have  given  him  something  that  would 
have  kept  it  down  long  enough  for  so  shoi^t  a purpose.” 

By  way  of  making  the  white  one  whiter,  Bella  has- 
tened to  stipulate  that  he  was  not  in  pain.  Mrs.  Milvey 
was  so  glad  of  it. 

I don’t  know  how  it  is,”  said  Mrs.  Milvey,  and  I am 
sure  you  don’t,  Frank,  but  the  clergy  and  their  wives 
seem  to  cause  swelled  faces.  Whenever  I take  notice 
of  a child  in  the  school  it  seems  to  me  as  if  its  face 
swelled  instantly.  Frank  makes  acquaintances 

with  a new  old  Avoman,  but  she  gets  tlie  faceache. 


EFFECT  IS  GIVEN  TO  THE  DISCOVERY.  S53 

And  another  thing  is,  we  do  make  the  poor  children 
sniff  so.  I don’t  know  how  we  do  it,  and  I should  be  so 
glad  not  to  ; but  the  more  we  take  notice  of  them,  the 
more  they  sniff.  Just  as  they  do  when  the  text  is  given 
out. — Frank,  that’s  a schoolmaster.  I have  seen  him 
somewhere.” 

This  reference  was  to  a young  man  of  reserved  ap- 
pearance, in  a coat  and  waistcoat  of  black,  and  panta- 
loons of  pepper-and-salt.  He  had  come  into  the  office 
of  the  station,  from  its  interior,  in  an  unsettled  way, 
immediately  after  Light  wood  had  gone  out  to  the  train; 
and  he  had  been  hurriedly  reading  the  printed  bills  and 
notices  on  the  wall.  He  had  had  a wandering  interest 
in  what  was  said  among  the  people  waiting  tnere,  and 
passing  to  and  fro.  He  had  drawn  nearer  at  about  the 
time  when  Mrs.  Milvey  mentioned  Lizzie  Hexam,  and 
had  remained  near  since:  though  always  glancing  to- 
wards the  door  by  which  Lightwood  had  gone  out.  He 
stood  with  his  back  towards  them,  and  his  gloved  hands 
clasped  behind  him.  There  was  now  so  evident  a fal- 
tering upon  him,  expressive  of  indecision  whether  or  no 
he  should  express  his  having  heard  himself  referred  to, 
that  Mr.  Milvey  spoke  to  him. 

I cannot  recall  your  name,”  he  said,  but  I remem- 
ber to  have  seen  you  in  your  school.” 

^^My  name  is  Bradley  Headstone,  sir,”  he  replied, 
backing  into  a more  retired  place. 

^‘1  ought  to  have  remembered  it,”  said  Mr.  Milvey, 
giving  him  his  hand.  I hope  you  are  well?  A little 
overworked,  I am  afraid.” 

‘‘Yes,  I am  overworked  just  at  present,  sir.” 

“ Had  no  play  in  your  last  holiday-time?” 

“ No,  sir.” 

“ All  work  and  no  play,  Mr.  Headstone,  will  not  make 
dulness  in  your  case,  I dare  say ; but  it  will  make  dys- 
pepsia, if  you  dont  take  care.” 

“ I will  endeavour  to  take  care,  sir.  Might  I beg  leave 
to  speak  to  you  outside,  a moment  ? ” 

“ By  all  means.” 

It  was  evening,  and  the  office  was  well  lighted.  The 
schoolmaster,  who  had  never  remitted  his  watch  on 
Lightwood’s  door,  now  moved  by  another  door  to  a cor- 
ner without,  where  there  was  more  shadow  than  light ; 
and  said,  plucking  at  his  gloves  : 

VOL.  II, 


54 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


^^One  of  your  ladies,  sir,  mentioned  within  my  hear- 
ing a name  that  I am  acquainted  with  ; I may  say,  well 
acquainted  with.  The  name  of  the  sister  of  an  old  pupil 
of  mine.  He  was  my  pupil  for  a long  time,  and  has  got 
on  and  gone  upward  rapidly.  The  name  of  Hexam. 
The  name  of  Lizzie  Hexam.’’  He  seemed  to  be  a shy 
man,  struggling  against  nervousness,  and  spoke  in  a 
very  constrained  way.  The  break  he  set  between  his 
two  last  sentences  was  quite  embarrassing  to  his  hearer. 

Yes,”  replied  Mr.  Milvey.  We  are  going  down  to 
see  her.” 

I gathered  as  much,  sir.  I hope  there  is  nothing 
amiss  with  the  sister  of  my  old  pupil  ? I hope  no  bereave- 
ment has  befallen  her.  I hope  she  is  in  no  affliction  ? 
Has  lost  no — relation  ? ” 

Mr.  Milvey  thought  this  a man  with  a very  odd  man- 
ner, and  a dark  downward  look  ; but  he  answerd  in  his 
usual  open  way. 

I am  glad  to  tell  you,  Mr.  Headstone,  that  the  sister 
of  your  old  pupil  has  not  sustained  any  such  loss.  You 
thought  I might  be  going  down  to  bury  some  one  ?” 

^^That  may  have  been  the  connection  of  ideas,  sir, 
with  your  clerical  character,  but  I was  not  conscious  of 
it. — Then  you  are  not,  sir  ?” 

A man  with  a very  odd  manner  indeed,  and  with  a 
lurking  look  that  was  quite  oppressive. 

‘^No.  In  fact,”  said  Mr.  Milvey,  since  you  are  so 
interested  in  the  sister  of  your  old  pupil,  I may  as  well 
tell  you  that  I am  going  down  to  marry  her.” 

The  schoolmaster  started  back. 

^‘Not  to  marry  her,  myself,”  said  Mr.  Milvey,  with  a 
smile,  ‘^because  I have  a wife  already.  To  perform  the 
marriage  service  at  her  wedding.” 

Bradley  Headstone  caught  hold  of  a pillar  behind  him. 
If  Mr.  Milvey  knew  an  ashy  face  when  he  saw  it,  he 
saw  it  then. 

^Wou  are  quite  ill,  Mr.  Headstone!” 

^fflt  is  not  much,  sir.  It  will  pass  over  very  soon.  I 
am  accustomed  to  be  seized  with  giddiness.  Don’t  let 
me  detain  you,  sir;  I stand  in  need  of  no  assistance,  I 
thank  you.  Much  obliged  by  your  sparing  me  these 
minutes  of  your  time.” 

As  Mr.  Milvey,  who  had  no  more  minutes  to  spare, 
made  a suitable  reply  aaid  turned  back  into  the  office, 


EFFECT  IS  GIVEN  TO  THE  DISCOVERY.  355 


he  observed  the  schoolmaster  to  lean  against  the  pillar 
with  his  hat  in  his  hand,  and  to  pull  at  his  neckcloth  as 
if  he  were  trying  to  tear  it  off.  The  Reverend  Frank 
accordingly  directed  the  notice  of  one  of  the  attendants 
to  him,  by  saying:  There  is  a person  outside  who 
seems  to  be  really  ill,  and  to  require  some  help,  though 
he  says  he  does  not.’’ 

Lightwood  had  by  this  time  secured  their  places,  and 
the  departure  bell  was  about  to  be  rung.  They  took 
their  seats,  and  were  beginning  to  move  out  of  the  sta- 
tion, when  the  same  attendant  came  running  along  the 
platform,  looking  into  all  the  carriages. 

^^Oh!  You  are  here,  sir!”  he  said,  springing  on  the 
step,  and  holding  the  wiudow  frame  by  his  elbow,  as  the 
carriage  moved.  ‘^^That  person  you  pointed  out  to  me 
is  in  a fit.” 

infer  from  what  he  told  me  that  he  is  subject  to 
such  attacks.  He  will  come  to,  in  the  air,  in  a little 
while.” 

He  was  took  very  bad  to  be  sure,  and  was  biting  and 
knocking  about  him  (the  man  said)  furiously.  Would 
the  gentleman  give  him  his  card,  as  he  had  seen  him 
first?  The  gentleman  did  so,  with  the  explanation  that 
he  knew  no  more  of  the  man  attacked  than  that  he  was 
a man  of  very  respectable  occupation,  who  liad  said  he 
was  out  of  health,  as  his  appearance  would  of  itself  have 
indicated.  The  attendant  received  the  card,  watched  his 
opportunity  for  sliding  down,  slid  down,  and  so  it  ended. 

. Then,  the  train  rattled  among  the  housetops,  and 
among  the  ragged  sides  of  houses  torn  down  to  make 
way  for  it,  and  over  the  swarming  streets,  and  under 
the  fruitful  earth,  until  it  shot  across  the  river:  bursting 
over  the  quiet  surface  like  a bombshell,  and  gone  again 
as  if  it  had  exploded  in  the  rush  of  smoke  and  steam 
and  glare.  A little  more,  and  again  it  roared  across  the 
river,  a great  rocket:  spurning  the  watery  turnings  and 
doublings  with  ineffable  contempt,  and  going  straight  to 
its  end,  as  Father  Time  goes  to  his.  To  whom  it  is  no 
matter  what  living  waters  run  high  or  low,  i*eflect  the 
heavenly  lights  and  darj^nesses,  produce  their  little 
growth  of  weeds  and  flowers,  turn  here,  turn  there,  are 
noisy  or  still,  are  troubled  or  at  rest,  for  their  course  has 
one  sure  termination,  though  their  sources  and  devices 
are  many. 


356 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Then,  a carriage  ride  succeeded,  near  the  solemn 
river,  stealing  away  by  night,  as  all  things  steal  away, 
by  night  and  by  day,  so  quietly  yielding  to  the  attraction 
of  the  loadstone  rock  of  Eternity;  and,  the  nearer  they 
drew  to  the  chamber  where  Eugene  lay,  the  more  they 
feared  that  they  might  find  his  wanderings  done.  At 
last  they  saw  its  dim  light  shining  out,  and  it  gave 
them  hope:  though  Lightwood  faltered  as  he  thought. 

If  he  were  gone,  she  would  still  be  sitting  by  him.” 

But  he  lay  quiet,  half  in  stupor,  half  in  sleep.  Bella, 
entering  with  a raised  admonitory  finger,  kissed  Lizzie 
softly,  but  said  not  a word.  Neither  did  any  of  them 
speak,  but  all  sat  down  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  silently 
waiting.  And  now,  in  this  night-watch,  mingling  with 
the  fiow  of  the  river  and  with  the  rush  of  the  train, 
came  the  questions  into  Bella’s  mind  again:  What 
could  be  in  the  depths  of  that  mystery  of  John’s  ? 
Why  was  it  that  he  had  never  been  seen  by  Mr.  Light- 
wood,  whom  he  still  avoided  ? When  would  that  trial 
come,  through  which  her  faith  in,  and  her  duty  to, 
her  dear  husband,  was  to  carry  her,  rendering  him 
triumphant  ? For,  that  had  been  his  term.  Her 
passing  through  the  trial  was  to  make  the  man  she 
loved  with  all  her  heart  triumphant.  Term  not  to  sink 
out  of  sight  in  Bella’s  breast. 

Far  on  in  the  night,  Eugene  opened  his  eyes.  He 
was  sensible,  and  said  at  once:  ^'How  does  the  time 
go?  Has  our  Mortimer  come  back?” 

Lightwood  was  there  immediately,  to  answer  for 
himself.  Yes,  Eugene,  and  all  is  ready.” 

‘^Dear  boy!”  returned  Eugene  with  a smile,  ^^we 
both  thank  you  heartily.  Lizzie,  tell  them  how  wel- 
come they  are,  and  that  I would  be  eloquent  if  I 
could.” 

There  is  no  need,”  said  Mr.  Milvey.  We  know  it. 
Are  you  better,  Mr.  Wrayburn?” 

I am  much  happier,”  said  Eugene. 

Much  better  too,  I hope?” 

Eugene  turned  his  eyes  towards  Lizzie,  as  if  to  spare 
her,  and  answered  nothing. 

Then,  they  all  stood  around’the  bed,  and  Mr.  Milvey, 
opening  his  book,  began  the  service;  so  rarely  associ- 
ated with  the  shadow  of  death;  so  inseparable  in  the 
mind  from  a fiush  of  life  and  gaiety  and  hope  and  health 


EFFECT  IS  GIVEN  TO  THE  DISCOVERY.  35^^ 

and  joy.  Bella  thought  how  different  from  her  own 
sunny  little  wedding,  and  wept.  Mrs.  Milvey  over- 
flowed with  pity,  and  wept  too.  The  doll’s  dressmaker, 
with  her  hands  before  her  face,  wept  in  her  golden 
bower.  Reading  in  a low  clear  voice,  and  bending 
over  Eugene,  who  kept  his  eyes  upon  him,  Mr.  Milvey 
did  his  office  with  suitable  simplicity.  As  the  bride- 
groom could  not  move  his  hand,  they  touched  his  fingers 
with  the  ring,  and  so  put  it  on  the  bride.  When  the 
two  plighted  their  troth,  she  laid  her  hand  on  his,  and 
kept  it  there.  When  the  ceremony  was  done,  and  all 
the  rest  departed  from  the  room,  she  drew  her  arm 
under  his  head,  and  laid  her  own  head  down  upon  the 
pillow  by  his  side. 

Undraw  the  curtains,  my  dear  girl,”  said  Eugene, 
after  awhile,  ^^and  let  us  see  our  wedding-day.” 

The  sun  was  rising,  and  his  first  rays  struck  into  the 
room,  as  she  came  back,  and  put  her  lips  to  his.  ''I 
bless  the  day!”  said  Eugene.  ^'I  bless  the  day!”  said 
Lizzie. 

have  made  a poor  marriage  of  it,  my  sweet 
wife,”  said  Eugene.  ''A  shattered,  graceless  fellow, 
stretched  at  his  length  here,  and  next  to  nothing  for 
yoiT  when  you  are  a young  widow.” 

I have  made  the  marriage  that  I would  have  given 
all  the  world  to  dare  to  hope  for,”  she  replied. 

^Wou  have  thrown  yourself  away,”  said  Eugene, 
shaking  his  head.  But  you  have  followed  the  treas- 
ure of  your  heart.  My  justification  is,  that  you  had 
thrown  that  away  first,  dear  girl  ! ” 

No.  I had  given  it  to  you.” 

The  same  thing,  my  poor  Lizzie!” 

Hush,  hush!  A very  different  thing.  ^ 

There  were  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  she  besought  him 
to  close  them.  No,”  said  Eugene,  again  shaking  his 
head;  'Get  me  look  at  you,  Lizzie,  while  I can.  You 
brave,  devoted  girl  ! You  heroine!” 

Her  own  eyes  filled  under  his  praises.  And  when  he 
mustered  strength  to  move  his  wounded  head  a very 
little  way,  and  lay  it  on  her  bosom,  the  tears  of  both  fell. 

"Lizzie,”  said  Eugene,  after  a silence,  "when  you 
see  me  wandering  away  from  this  refuge  that  I have  so 
ill  deserved,  speak  to  me  by  my  name,  and  I think  I 
shall  come  back.” 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


;]58 


Yes,  dear  Eugene.” 

There!”  he  exclaimed,  smiling.  ‘‘1  should  have 
gone  then,  but  for  that!  ” 

A little  while  afterwards,  when  he  appeared  to  be 
sinking  into  insensibility,  she  said,  in  a calm,  loving 
voice:  '‘Eugene,  my  dear  husband!”  He  immediately 
answered:  “ There  again!  You  see  how  you  can  recall 
me!”  And  afterwards,  when  he  could  not  speak,  he 
still  answered  by  a slight  movement  of  his  head  upon 
]ier  bosom. 

The  sun  was  high  in  the  sky,  when  she  gently  dis- 
engaged herself  to  give  him  the  stimulants  and  nourish- 
ment he  required.  The  utter  helplessness  of  the  wreck 
of  him  that  lay  cast  ashore  there,  now  alarmed  her,  but 
he  himself  appeared  a little  more  hopeful. 

"Ah,  my  beloved  Lizzie!”  he  said,  faintly.  "How 
shall  I overpay  all  I owe  you  if  I recover?” 

"Don’t  be  ashamed  of  me,”  she  replied,  "and  you 
will  have  more  than  paid  all.” 

"It  would  require  a life,  Lizzie,  to  pay  all;  more  than 
a life.” 

" Live  for  that,  then;  live  for  me,  Eugene;  live  to  see 
how  hard  I will  try  to  improve  myself,  and  never^to 
discredit  you.” 

" My  darling  girl,”  he  replied,  rallying  more  of  his  old 
manner  than  he  had  ever  yet  got  together.  " On  the 
contrary,  I have  been  thinking  whether  it  is  not  the 
best  thing  I can  do  to  die.” 

"The  best  thing  you  can  do  to  leave  me  with  a 
broken  heart?” 

" I don’t  mean  that,  my  dear  girl.  I was  not  thinking 
of  that.  What  I was  thinking  of  was  this.  Out  of  your 
compassion#for  me,  in  this  maimed  and  broken  state, 
you  make  so  much  of  me — you  think  so  well  of  me — you 
love  me  so  dearly.” 

" Heaven  knows  I love  you  dearly!  ” 

"And  Heaven  knows  I prize  it!  Well!  If  I live, 
you’ll  find  me  out.” 

" I shall  find  out  that  my  husband  has  a mine  of  pur- 
pose and  energy,  and  will  turn  it  to  the  best  account  ? ” 

" I hope  so,  dearest  Lizzie,”  said  Eugene  wistfully, 
and  yet  somewhat  whimsically.  "I  hope  so.  But  I 
can’t  summon  the  vanity  to  think  so.  How  can  I think 
so,  looking  back  on  such  a trifling  wasted  youth  as 


THE  PASSING  SHADOW. 


350 


mine?  I humbly  hope  it;  but  I daren't  believe  it.  There 
is  a sharp  misgiving  in  my  conscience  that  if  I were 
to  live,  I should  disappoint  your  good  opinion  and  my 
own — and  that  I ought  to  die,  my  dear  ! " 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  PASSING  SHADOW. 

The  winds  and  tides  rose  and  fell  a certain  number  of 
times,  the  earth  moved  round  the  sun  a certain 
number  of  times,  the  ship  upon  the  ocean  made  her 
voyage  safely,  and  brought  a baby  Bella  home.  Then 
who  so  blessed  and  happy  as  Mrs!  John  Rokesmith, 
saving  and  excepting  Mr.  John  Rokesmith? 

Would  you  not  like  to  be  rich  now,  my  darling  ?" 
How  can  you  ask  me  such  a question,  John  dear  ? 
Am  I not  rich  ? " 

% These  were  among  the  first  words  spoken  near  the 
baby  Bella  as  she  lay  asleep.  She  soon  proved  to  be  a 
baby  of  wonderful  intelligence,  evincing  the  strongest 
objection  to  her  grandmother's  society,  and  being  in- 
variably seized  with  a painful  acidity  of  the  stomach 
when  that  dignified  lady  honoured  her  with  any  at- 
tention. 

It  was  charming  to  see  Bella  contemplating  this  baby, 
and  finding  out  her  own  dimples  in  that  tiny  reflection, 
as  if  she  were  looking  in  the  glass  without  personal 
vanity.  Her  cherubic  father  justly  remarked  to  her 
husband  that  the  baby  seemed  to  make  her  younger 
than  before,  reminding  him  of  the  days  when  she  had 
a pet  doll,  and  used  to  talk  to  it  as  she  carried  it  about. 
The  world  might  have  been  challenged  to  produce  an- 
other baby  who  had  such  a store  of  pleasant  nonsense 
said  and  sung  to  it,  as  Bella  said  and  sung  to  this  baby; 
or  who  was  dressed  and  undressed  as  often  in  f our-and- 
twenty  hours  as  Bella  dressed  and  undressed  this  baby; 
or  who  was  held  behind  doors  and  poked  out  to  stop  its 
father's  way  when  he  came  home,  as  this  baby  was;  or, 
in  a word,  who  did  half  the  number  5f  baby  things, 
through  the  lively  invention  of  a gay  and  proud  young 
mother,  that  this  inexhaustible  baby  did. 


360 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


The  inexhaustible  baby  was  two  or  three  months  old, 
when  Bella  began  to  notice  a cloud  upon  her  husband’s 
brow.  Watching  it,  she  saw  a gathering  and  deep- 
ening anxiety  there,  which  caused  her  great  disquiet. 
More  than  once  she  awoke  him  muttering  in  his  sleep  ; 
and  though  he  muttered  nothing  worse  than  her  own 
name,  it  was  plain  to  her  that  his  restlessness  originated 
in  some  load  of  care.  Therefore,  Bella  at  length  put  in 
her  claim  to  divide  this  load,  and  bear  her  half  of  it. 

You  know,  John  dear,”  she  said,  cheerily  reverting 
to  their  former  conversation,  that  I hope  I may  safely 
be  trusted  in  great  things.  And  it  surely  cannot  be  a 
little  thing  that  causes  you  so  much  uneasiness.  It’s 
very  considerate  of  you  to  try  to  hide  from  me  that  you 
are  uncomfortable  about  something,  but  it’s  quite  im- 
possible to  be  don5,  John  love.” 

I admit  that  I am  rather  uneasy,  my  own.” 

'^Then  please  to  tell  me  what  about,  sir.” 

But  no,  he  evaded  that.  Never  mind!”  thought 
Bella,  resolutely.  ^^John  requires  me  to  put  perfect 
faith  in  him,  and  he  shall  not  be  disappointed.”  ^ 

She  went  up  to  London  one  day  to  meet  him,  in  order 
that  they  might  make  some  purchases.  She  found  him 
waiting  for  her  at  her  journey’s  end,  and  they  walked 
away  together  through  the  streets.  He  was  in  gay 
spirits,  though  still  harping  on  that  notion  of  their  being 
rich;  and  he  said,  Noav  let  them  make  believe  that  yon- 
der fine  carriage  was  theirs,  and  that  it  was  waiting  to 
take  them  home  to  a fine  house  they  had,  what  would 
Bella,  in  that  case,  best  like  to  find  in  the  house?  Well! 
Bella  didn’t  know : already  having  everything  she 
wanted,  she  couldn’t  say.  But,  by  degrees,  she  was  led 
on  to  confess  that  she  would  like  to  have  for  the  inex- 
haustible baby  such  a nursery  as  never  was  seen.  It 
was  to  be  a very  rainbow  for  colours,”  as  she  was  quite 
sure  baby  noticed  colours  ; and  the  staircase  was  to  be 
adorned  with  the  most  exquisite  fiow^ers,  as  she  was 
absolutely  certain  baby  noticed  fiowers;  and  there  was 
to  be  an  aviary  somewhere,  of  the  loveliest  little  birds, 
as  there  was  not  the  smallest  doubt  in  the  world  that 
baby  noticed  birds.  Was  there  nothing  else?  No,  John 
dear.  The  predilections  of  the  inexhaustible  baby  being 
provided  for,  Bella  could  think  of  nothing  else. 

They  were  chatting  on  in  this  way,  and  John  had  sug- 


lilGHTWOOD  AT  LAST. 


Our  Mutual  Friend. 


THE  PASSING  SHADOW. 


361 


gested,  No  jewels  for  your  own  wear,  for  instance 
and  Bella  had  replied,  laughing.  Oh!  if  he  came  to  that, 
yes,  there  might  be  a beautiful  ivory  case  of  jewels  on 
her  dressing-table;  when  these  pictures  were  in  a mo- 
ment darkened  and  blotted  out. 

They  turned  a corner,  and  met  Mr.  Lightwood. 

He  stopped  as  if  he  were  petrified  by  the  sight  of 
Bella’s  husband,  who  in  the  same  moment  had  changed 
colour. 

Mr.  Lightwood  and  I have  met  before,”  he  said. 

Met  before,  John?  ” Bella  repeated  in  a tone  of  won- 
der. Mr.  Lightwood  told  me  he  had  never  seen  you.” 

I did  not  then  know  that  I had,”  said  Lightwood, 
discomposed  on  her  account.  believed  that  I had 

only  heard  of Mr.  Rokesmith.”  With  an  emphasis 

on  the  name. 

When  Mr.  Lightwood  saw  me,  my  love,”  observed 
her  husband,  not  avoiding  his  eye,  but  looking  at  him, 

my  name  was  Julius  Handford.” 

Julius  Handford!  The  name  that  ^ella  had  so  often 
seen  in  old  newspapers,  when  she  was  an  inmate  of  Mr. 
Boffin’s  house!  Julius  Handford,  who  had  been  publicly 
entreated  to  appear,  and  for  intelligence  of  whom  a 
reward  had  been  publicly  offered  ! 

‘‘1  would  have  avoided  mentioning  it  in  your  pres- 
ence,” said  Lightwood  to  Bella,  delicately;  ‘"but  since 
your  husband  mentions  it  himself,  I must  confirm  his 
strange  admission.  I saw  him  as  Mr.  Julius  Handford, 
and  I afterwards  ( unquestionably  to  his  knowledge ) 
took  great  pains  to  trace  him  out.” 

Quite  true.  But  it  was  not  my  object  or  my  inter- 
est,” said  Rokesmith,  quietly,  '^to  be  traced  out.” 

Bella  looked  from  the  one  to  the  other  in  amaze- 
ment. 

Mr.  Lightwood,”  pursued  her  husband,  '^as  chance 
has  brought  us  face  to  face  at  last — which  is  not  to  be 
wondered  at,  for  the  wonder  is,,  that,  in  spite  of  all  my 
j)ains  to  the  contrary,  chance  has  not  confronted  us 
together  sooner — I have  only  to  remind  you  that  you 
have  been  at  my  house,  and  to  add  that  I have  not 
changed  my  residence.” 

Sir,”  returned  Lightwood,  with  a meaning  glance 
towards  Bella,  '^my  position  is  a truly  painful  one.  I 
hope  that  no  complicity  in  a very  dark  transaction 


362  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEUD. 

may  attach  to  you,  but  you  cannot  fail  to  know  that 
your  own  extraordinary  conduct  has  laid  you  under 
suspicion.” 

''  I know  it  has,”  was  all  the  reply. 

My  professional  duty,”  said  Lightwood,  hesitating, 
with  another  glance  towards  Bella,  is  greatly  at  vari- 
ance with  my  personal  inclination;  but  I doubt,  Mr. 
Handford,  or  Mr.  Rokesmith,  whether  I am  justified  in 
taking  leave  of  you  here,  with  your  whole  course  unex- 
plained.” 

Bella  caught  her  husband  by  the  hand. 

Don’t  be  alarmed,  my  darling.  Mr.  Lightwood  will 
find  that  he  is  quite  justified  in  taking  leave  of  me  here. 
At  all  events,”  added  Rokesmith,  he  will  find  that  I 
mean  to  take  leave  of  him  here.” 

think,  sir,”  said  Lightwood,  ^^you  can  scarcely 
deny  that  when  I came  to  your  house  on  the  occasion 
to  which  you  have  referred,  you  avoided  me  of  a set 
purpose.” 

‘‘  Mr.  Light wood,i  I assure  you  I have  no  disposition 
to  deny  it,  or  intention  to  deny  it.  I should  have  con- 
tinued to  avoid  you,  in  pursuance  of  the  same  set  pur- 
pose, for  a short  time  longer,  if  we  had  not  met  now.  I 
am  going  straight  home,  and  shall  remain  at  home  to- 
morrow until  noon.  Hereafter,  I hope  we  may  be  bet- 
ter acquainted.  Good-day.” 

Lightwood  stood  irresolute,  but  Bella’s  husband  passed 
him  in  the  steadiest  manner,  with  Bella  on  his  arm;  and 
they  went  home  without  encountering  any  further  re- 
monstrance or  molestation  from  any  one. 

When  they  had  dined  and  were  alone,  John  Roke- 
smith said  to  his  wife,  who  had  preserved  her  cheerful- 
ness, And  you  don’t  ask  me,  my  dear,  why  I bore  that 
name  ? ” 

No,  John,  love.  I should  dearly  like  to  know,  of 
course;”  (which  her  anxious  face  confirmed ; ) ^^but  I 
wait  until  you  can  tell  me  of  your  own  free  will.  You 
asked  me  if  I could  have  perfect  faith  in  you,  and  I 
said  yes,  and  I meant  it.” 

It  did  not  escape  Bella’s  notice  that  he  began  to  look 
triumphant.  She  wanted  no  strengthening  in  her  firm- 
ness; but  if  she  had  had  need  of  any,  she  would  have 
derive^  it  from  his  kindling  face. 

^Wou  cannot  have  been  prepared,  my  dearest,  for 


THE  PASSING  SHADOW. 


363 


such  a discovery  as  that  this  mysterious  Mr.  Handford 
was  identical  with  your  husband  ? ” 

* ^^No,  John  dear,  of  course  not.  But  you  told  me  to 

prepare  to  be  tried,  and  I prepared  myself.” 

He  drew  her  to  nestle  closer  to  him,  and  told  her  it 
would  soon  be  over,  and  the  truth  would  soon  appear. 

And  now,”  he  went  on,  ^Gay  stress,  my  dear  on  these 
words  that  I am  going  to  add.  I stand  in  no'  kind  of 
peril,  and  I can  by  possibility  be  hurt  at  no  one’s  hand.” 

‘Won  are  quite,  quite  sure  of  that,  John  dear  ?” 

^^Not  a hair  of  my  head  ! Moreover,  I have  done  no 
wrong,  and  have  injured  no  man.  Shall  I swear  it  ?” 

^^No,  John  !”  cried  Bella,  laying  her  hand  upon  his 
lips,  with  a proud  look.  Never  to  me  ! ” 

But  circumstances,”  he  went  on  — I can,  and  I will, 
disperse  them  in  a moment — have  surrounded  me  with 
one  of  the  strangest*  suspicions  ever  known.  You  heard 
Mr.  Lightwood  speak  of  a dark  transaction  ? ” 

''Yes,  John.” 

" You  are  prepared  to  hear  explicitly  what  he  meant  ? ” 
^ "Yes,  John.” 

" My  life,  he  meant  the  murder  of  John  Harmon,  your 
allotted  husband.” 

With  a fast-palpitating  heart,  Bella  grasped  him  by 
the  arm.  "You  cannot  be  suspected,  John  ?” 

" Dear  love,  I can  be — for  I am  ! ” 

There  was  silence  between  them,  as  she  sat  looking  in 
his  face,  with  the  colour  quite  gone  from  her  own  face 
and  lips.  " How  dare  they?”  she  cried  at  length,  in  a 
burst  of  generous  indignation.  " My  beloved  husband, 
how  dare  they  ? ” 

He  caught  her  in  his  arms  as  she  opened  hers,  and 
held  her  to  his  heart.  "Even  knowing  this,  you  can 
trust  me,  Bella  ? ” 

"I  can  trust  you,  John  dear,,  with  all  my  soul.  If  I 
could  not  trust  you,  I should  fall  dead  at  your  feet.” 

• The  kindling  triumph  in  his  face  was  bright  indeed, 
as  he  looked  up  and  rapturously  exclaimed.  What  had 
he  done  to  deserve  the  blessing  of  this  dear  confiding 
creature’s  heart?  Again  she  put  her  hand  upon  his  lips, 
saying,  "Hush!”  and  then  told  him,  in  her  own  little 
natural  pathetic  way,  that  if  all  the  world  were  against 
him,  she  would  be  for  him ; that  if  all  the  world  repu- 
diated him,  she  would  believe  him  ; that  if  he  were  infa- 


364 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


mous  in  other  eyes,  he  would  be  honoured  in  hers  ; and 
that,  under  the  worst  unmerited  suspicion,  she  could  de- 
vote her  life  to  consoling  him,  and  imparting  her  own 
faith  in  him  to  their  little  child. 

A twilight  calm  of  happiness  then  succeeding  to 
their  radiant  noon,  they  remained  at  peace,  until  a 
strange  voice  in  the  room  startled  them  both.  The  room 
being  hj  that  time  dark,  the  voice  said,  Don’t  let  the 
lady  be  alarmed  by  my  striking  a light,”  and  immedi- 
ately a match  rattled,  and  glimmered  in  a hand.  The 
hand  and  the  match  and  the  voice  were  then  seen  by 
John  Rokesmith  to  belong  to  Mr.  Inspector,  once 
meditatively  active  in  this  chronicle. 

I take  the  liberty,”  said  Mr.  Inspector,  in  a business- 
like manner,  to  bring  myself  to  the  recollection  of 
Mr.  Julius  Handford,  who  gave  , me  his  name  and 
address  down  at  our  place  a considerable  time  ago. 
Would  the  lady  object  to  my  lighting  the  pair  of 
candles  on  the  chimney-piece,  to  throw  a further  light 
upon  the  subject?  No?  Thank  you,  ma’am.  Now  we 
look  cheerful.” 

Mr.  Inspector,  in  a dark-blue  buttoned-up  frock-coat 
and  pantaloons,  presented  a serviceable  half-pay. 
Royal  Arms  kind  of  appearance,  *as  he  applied  his 
pocket-handkerchief  to  his  nose,  and  bowed  to  the 
lady. 

^Wou  favoured  me,  Mr.  Handford,”  said  Mr.  Inspec- 
tor, ^^by  writing  down  your  name  and  address,  and  I 
produce  the  piece  of  paper  on  which  you  wrote  it. 
Comparing  the  same  with  the  writing  on  the  fly-leaf 
of  this  book  on  the  table — and  a sweet  pretty  volume  it 
is — I And  the  writing  of  the  entry,  ^ Mrs.  John  Roke- 
smith. From  her  husband  on  her  birthday  ’ — and  very 
gratifying  to  the  feelings  such  memorials  are — to  cor- 
respond exactly.  Can  I have  a word  with  you?” 

''  Certainly.  Here,  if  you  please,”  was  the  reply. 

^‘^Why,”  retorted  Mr.  Inspector,  again  using  his 
pocket-handkerchief,  though  there’s  nothing  for  the 
lady  to  be  at  all  alarmed  at,  still,  ladies  are  apt  to  take 
alarm  at  matters  of  business — being  of  that  fragile  sex 
that  they’re  not  accustomed  to  them  when  not  of  a 
strictly  domestic  character — and  I do  generally  make 
it  a rule  to  propose  retirement  from  the  presence  of 
ladies  before  entering  on  business  topics.  Or  per- 


THE  PASSING  SHADOW. 


365 


haps/’  Mr.  Inspector  hinted,  'Gf  the  lady  was  to  step 
up-stairs,  and  take  a look  at  baby  now!” 

Mrs.  Rokesmith,” her  husband  was  beginning  ; 

when  Mr.  Inspector,  regarding  the  words  as  an  intro- 
duction, said,  Happy,  I am  sure,  to  have  the  honour.” 
And  bowed  with  gallantry. 

''Mrs.  Rokesmith,”  resumed  her  husband,  "is  satis- 
fied that  she  can  have  no  reason  for  being  alarmed, 
whatever  the  business  is.” 

"Really!  Is  that  so?”  said  Mr.  Inspector.  "But 
it’s  a sex  to  live  and  learn  from,  and  there’s  nothing  "a 
lady  can’t  accomplish  when  she  once  fully  gives  her 
mind  to  it.  It’s  the  case  with  my  own  wife.  Well, 
ma’am,  this  good  gentleman  of  yours  has  given  rise  to 
a rather  large  amount  of  trouble  which  might  have 
been  avoided  if  he  had  come  forward  and  explained 
himself.  Well,  you  see  ! He  didii’t  come  forward  and 
explain  himself.  Consequently,  now  that  we  meet, 
him  and  me,  you’ll  say — and  say  right — that  there’s 
nothing  to  be  alarmed  at,  in  my  proposing  to  him  to 
come  forward — or,  putting  the  same  meaning  in 
another  form,  to  come  along  with  me — and  explain 
himself.” 

When  Mr.  Inspector  put  it  in  that  other  form,  "to 
come  along  with  me,”  there  was  a relishing  roll  in 
his  voice,  and  his  eye  beamed  with  an  official  lustre. 

"Do  you  propose  to  take  me  into  custody?”  inquired 
John  Rokesmith  very  coolly. 

"Why  argue?”  returned  Mr.  Inspector  in  a comfort- 
able sort  of  remonstrance.  " Ain’t  it  enough  that  I pro- 
pose that  you  shall  come  along  with  me?” 

" For  what  reason?  ” 

" Lord  bless  my  soul  and  body!  ” returned  Mr.  Inspec- 
tor, "I  wonder  at  it  in  a man  of  your  education. 
Why  argue?” 

" What  do  you  charge  against  me?” 

"I  wonder  at  you  before  a lady,”  said  Mr.  Inspector, 
shaking  his  head  reproachfully:  "I  wonder,  brought 
up  as  you  have  been,  you  haven’t  a more  delicate 
mind!  I charge  you,  then,  with  being  some  way  con- 
cerned in  the  Harmon  Murder.  I don’t  say  whether 
before,  or  in,  or  after  the  fact.  I don’t  say  whether 
with  having  some  knowledge  of  it  that  hasn’t  come 
out. 


366 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


You  don’t  surprise  me.  I foresaw  your  visit  this 
afternoon.” 

Don’t!”  said  Mr.  Inspector.  ^^Why,  why  argue? 
It’s  my  duty  to  inform  you  that  whatever  you  say 
will  be  used  against  you.” 

^'I  don’t  think  it  will.” 

But  I tell  you  it  will,”  said  Mr.  Inspector.  ^“^Now, 
having  received  the  caution,  do  you  still  say  that  you 
foresaw  my  visit  this  afternoon?” 

^^Yes.  And  I will  say  something  more,  if  you  will 
step  with  me  into  the  next  room.” 

With  a reassuring  kiss  on  the  lips  of  the  frightened 
Bella,  her  husband  (to  whom  Mr.  Inspector  oblig- 
ingly offered  his  arm)  took  up  a candle,  and  withdrew 
with  that  gentleman.  They  were  *a  full  half-hour  in 
conference.  When  they  returned,  Mr.  Inspector  looked 
considerably  ustonished. 

I have  invited  this  worthy  officer,  my  dear,”  said 
John,  ''  to  make  a short  excursion  with  me  in  which 
you  shall  be  a sharer.  He  will  take  something  to  eat 
and  drink, I dare  say,  on  your  invitation,  while  you  are 
getting  your  bonnet  on.” 

Mr.  Inspector  declined  eating,  but  assented  to  the 
proposal  of  a glass  of  brandy-and-water.  Mixing  this 
cold,  and  pensively  consuming  it,  he  broke  at  intervals 
into  such  soliloquies  as  that  he  never  did  know  such  a 
move,  that  he  never  had  been  so  gravelled,  and  that 
what  a game  was  this  to  try  the  sort  of  stuff  a man’s 
opinion  of  himself  was  made  of  ! Concurrently  with 
these  comments,  he  more  than  once  burst  out  a laugh- 
ing, with  the  half -enjoying  and  half -piqued  air  of  a 
man  who  had  given  up  a good  conundrum,  after  much 
guessing,  and  been  told  the  answer.  Bella  was  so 
timid  of  him,  that  she  noted  these  things  in  a half- 
shrinking,  half -perceptive  way,  and  similarly  noted 
that  there  was  a great  change  in  his  manner  towards 
John.  That  coming-along-with-him  deportment  was 
now  lost  in  long  musing  looks  at  John  and  at  herself, 
and  sometimes  in  slow  heavy  rubs  of  his  hand  across 
his  forehead,  as  if  he  were  ironing  out  the  creases 
which  his  deep  pondering  made  there.  He  had  had 
some  coughing  and  whistling  satellites  secretly  gravi- 
tating towards  him  about  the  premises,  but  they  were 
now  dismissed,  and  he  eyed  John  as  if  he  had  meant 


THE  PASSING  SHADOW. 


3G7 


to  do  him  a public  service,  but  had  unfortunately  been 
anticipated.  Whether  Bella  might  have  noted  anything 
more,  if  she  had  been  less  afraid  of  him,  she  could  not 
determine;  but  it  was  all  inexplicable  to  her,  and  not 
the  faintest  flash  of  the  real  state  of  the  case  broke  in 
upon  her  mind.  Mr.  Inspector’s  increased  notice  of 
herself,  and  knowing  w^  of  raising  his  eyebrows 
when  their  eyes  by  any  chance  met,  as  if  he  put  the 
question,  Don’t  you  see?  ” augmented  her  timidity, 
and,  consequently,  her  perplexity.  For  all  these  rea- 
sons, when  he  and  she  and  John,  at  towards  nine 
o’clock  of  a winter  evening,  went  to  London,’and  began 
driving  from  London  Bridge,  among  low-lying  water- 
side wharves  and  docks  and  strange  places,  Bella  was 
in  the  state  of  a dreamer  ; perfectly  unable  to  account 
for  her  being  there,  perfectly  unable  to  forecast  what 
would  happen  next,  or  whither  she  was  going,  or  why; 
certain  of  nothing  in  the  immediate  present,  but  that 
she  conflded  in  John,  and  that  John  seemed  somehow 
to  be  getting  more  triumphant.  But  what  a certainty 
was  that ! 

The}^  alighted  at  last  at  the  corner  of  a court,  where 
there  was  a building  with  a bright  lamp  and  a wicket- 
gate.  Its  orderly  appearance  was  very  unlike  that  of 
the  surrounding  neighbourhood,  and  was  explained  by 
the  inscription  Police  Station. 

We  are  not  going  in  here,  John  ?”  said  Bella,  cling- 
ing to  him. 

‘Wes,  my  dear;  but  of  our  own  accord.  We  shall 
come  out  again  as  easily,  never  fear.” 

The  whitewashed  room  was  pure  white  as  of  old,  the 
methodical  book-keeping  was  in  a peaceful  progress  as 
of  old,  and  some  distant  howler  was  banging  against  a 
cell  door  as  of  old.  The  sanctuary  was  not  a permanent 
abiding-place,  but  a kind  of  criminal  Bickford’s.  The 
lower  passions  and  vices  were  regularly  ticked  off  in 
the  books,  warehoused  in  the  cells,  carted  away  as  per 
accompanying  invoice,  and  left  little  mark  upon  it. 

Mr.  Inspector  placed  two  chairs  for  his  visitors,  before 
the  Are,  and  communed  in  a low  voice  with  a brother 
of  his  order  (also  of  a half -pay,  and  Royal  Arms  aspect), 
who,  judged  only  by  his  occupation  at  the  moment, 
might  have  been  a writing-master,  setting  copies.  Their 
conference  done,  Mr.  Insiiector  returned  to  the  fire- 


368 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


place,  and,  having  observed  that  he  would  step  round 
to  the  Fellowships  and  see  how  matters  stood,  went  out. 
He  soon  came  back  again,  saying,  ‘^Nothing  could 
be  better,  for  they’re  at  supper  with  Miss  Abbey  in 
the  bar  ; ” and  then  they  all  three  went  out  together. 

Still  as  in  a dream,  Bella  found  herself  entering  a 
snug  old-fashioned  public-house,  and  found  herself 
smuggled  into  a little  thre^-cornered  room  nearly  op- 
posite the  bar  of  that  establishment.  Mr.  Inspector 
achieved  the  smuggling  of  herself  and  John  into  this 
queer  room,  called  Cosy  in  an  inscription  on  the  door, 
by  entering  in  the  narrow  passage  first  in  order,  and 
suddenly  turning  round  upon  them  with  extended  arms, 
as  if  they  had  been  two  sheep.  The  room  was  lighted 
for  their  reception. 

Now,”  said  Mr.  Inspector  to  John,  turning  the  gas 
lower  ; 7 ITl  mix  with  ’em  in  a casual  way,  and  when 
I say  Identification,  perhaps  you’ll  show  yourself.” 

John  nodded,  and  Mr.  Inspector  went  alone  to  the 
half-door  of  the  bar.  From  the  dim  doorway  of  Cosy, 
within  which  Bella  and  her  husband  stood,  they  could 
see  a comfortable  little  party  of  three  persons  sitting  at 
supper  in  the  bar,  and  could  hear  everything  that  was 
said. 

The  three  persons  were  Miss  Abbey  and  two  male 
guests.  To  whom  collectively  Mr.  Inspector  remarked 
that  the*  weather  was  getting  sharp  for  the  time  of 
year. 

^Ht  need  be  sharp  to  suit  your  wits,  sir,”  said  Miss 
Abbey.  What  have  you  got  in  hand  now  ? ” 

Thanking  you  for  your  compliment:  not  much.  Miss 
Abbey,”  was  Mr.  Inspector’s  rejoinder. 

Who  have  you  got  in  Cosy  ? ” asked  Miss  Abbey. 

Only  a gentleman  and  his  wife,  miss.” 

And  who  are  they?  If  one  may  ask  it  without  detri- 
ment to  your  deep  plans  in  the  interest  of  the  honest 
public  ? ” said  Miss  Abbey,  proud  of  Mr.  Inspector  as  an 
administrative  genius. 

'‘They  are  strangers  in  this  part  of  the  town.  Miss 
Abbey.  They  are  waiting  till  I shall  want  the  gentle- 
man to  show  himself  somewhere  for  half  a moment.” 

"While  they’re  waiting,”  said  Miss  Abbey,  "couldn’t 
you  join  us?” 

Mr.  Inspector  immediately  slipped  into  the  bar,  and 


THE  PASSiNG  SHADOW.  3G9 

sat  down  at  the  side  of  the  half-door,  with  his  back  to- 
wards the  passage,  and  directly  facing  the  two  guests. 

I don’t  take  my  supper  till  later  in  the  night,”  said  he, 
‘^and  therefore  I won’t  disturb  the  compactness  of  the 
table.  But  I’ll  take  a glass  of  flip,  if  that’s  flip  in  the 
jug  in  the  fender  ? ” 

That’s  flip,”  replied  Miss  Abbey,  and  it’s  my  mak- 
ing, and  if  even  you  can  And  out  better,  I shall  be  glad 
to  know  where.”  Filling  him,  with  hospitable  hands, 
a steaming  tumbler.  Miss  Abbey  replaced  the  jug  by 
the  Are;  the  company  not  having  yet  arrived  at  the  flip 
stage  of  their  supper,  but  being  as  yet  skirmishing  with 
strong  ale. 

''Ah — h!”  cried  Mr.  Inspector.  "That’s  the  smack! 
There’s  not  a Detective  in  the  Force,  Miss  Abbey,  that 
could  And  out  better  stuff  than  that.” 

"Glad  to  hear  you  say  so,”  rejoined  Miss  Abbey. 
"You  ought  to  know,  if  anybody  does.” 

"Mr.  Job  Potterson,”  Mr.  Inspector  continued,  "I 
drink  your  health.  Mr.  Jacob  Kibble,  I drink  yours. 
Hope  you  have  made  a prosperous  voyage  home,  gentle- 
men both.” 

Mr.  Kibble,  an  unctuous  broad  man  of  few  words  and 
many  mouthfuls,  said,  more  briefly  than  pointedly, 
raising  his  ale  to  his  lips:  "Same  to  you.”  Mr.  Job 
Potterson,  a semi-seafaring  man  of  obliging  demeanour, 
said,  " Thank  you,  sir.” 

" Lord  bless  my  soul  and  body!  ” cried  Mr.  Inspector. 
" Talk  of  trades.  Miss  Abbey,  and  the  way  they  set 
their  marks  on  men”  (a  subject  which  nobody  had  ap- 
proached): "who  wouldn’t  know  you^  brother  to  be  a 
“Steward?  There’s  a bright  and  ready  twinkle  in  his 
eye,  there’s  a neatness  in  his  action,  there’s  a smartness 
in  his  figure,  there’s  an  air  of  reliability  about  him  in 
case  you  wanted  a basin,  which  points  out  the  steward ! 
And  Mr.  Kibble;  ain’t  he  Passenger  all  over?  While 
there’s  that  mercantile  cut  about  him  which  would 
make  you  happy  to  give  him  credit  for  five  hundred 
pound,  don’t  you  see  the  salt  sea  shining  on  him  too?” 

" You  do,  I dare  say,”  returned  Miss  Abbey,  "but  I 
don’t.  And  as  for  ste warding,  I think  it’s  time  my 
brother  gave  that  up,  and  took  this  House  in  hand  on 
his  sister’s  retiring.  The  House  will  go  to  pieces  if  he 
don’t.  I wouldn’t  sell  it  for  any  money  that  could  be 
VOL.  II.  24 , 


370 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


told  out,  to  a person  that  I couldn’t  depend  upon  to  be 
a Law  to  the  Porters,  as  I have  been.” 

There  you’re  right,  miss,”  said  Mr.  Inspector.  A 
better-kept  house  is  not  known  to  our  men.  What  do  I 
say?  Half  so  well  a kept  house  is  not  known  to  our 
men.  Show  the  Force  the  Six  Jolly  Fellowship  Porters, 
and  the  Force — to  a constable — will  show  you  a piece  of 
perfection,  Mr.  Kibble.” 

That  gentleman,  with  a very  serious  shake  of  his 
head,  subscribed  the  article. 

And  talk  of  Time  slipping  by  you,  as  if  it  was  an 
animal  at  rustic  sports  with  its  tail  soaped,”  said  Mr. 
Inspector  (again,  a subject  which  nobody  had  ap- 
proached), ''  why,  well  you  may.  Well  you  may.  How 
has  it  slipped  by  us  since  the  time  when  Mr.  Job  Pot- 
terson  here  present,  Mr.  Jacob  Kibble  here  present,  and 
an  Officer  of  the  Force  here  present,  first  came  to- 
gether on  a matter  of  Identification!” 

Bella’s  husband  stepped  softly  to  the  half -door  of  the 
bar,  and  stood  there. 

‘^How  has  Time  sliced  by  us,”  Mr.  Inspector  went 
on  slowly,  with  his  eyes  narrowly  observant  of  the  two 
guests,  since  we  three  very  men,  at  an  Inquest  in  this 
very  house Mr.  Kibble!  Taken  ill,  sir?” 

Mr.  Kibble  had  staggered  up,  with  his  lower  jaw 
dropped,  catching  Potterson  by  the  shoulder,  and  point- 
ing to  the  half-door.  He  now  cried  out:  '‘Potterson! 
Look!  Look  there!”  Potterson  started  up,  started  back, 
and  exclaimed:  " Heaven  defend  us,  what’s  that?” 
Bella’s  husband  stepped  back  to  Bella,  took  her  in  his 
arms  (for  she  waslfcerrified  by  the  unintelligible  terror 
of  the  two  men),  and  shut  the  door  of  the  little  room. 
A hurry  of  voices  succeeded,  in  which  Mr.  Inspector’s 
voice  was  busiest;  it  gradually  slackened  and  sank;  and 
Mr.  Inspector  reappeared.  "Sharp’s  the  word,  sir!” 
he  said,  looking  in  with  a knowing  wink.  " We’ll  get 
your  lady  out  at  once.”  Immediately  Bella  and  her 
husband  were  under  the  stars,  making  their  way  back 
alone  to  the  vehicle  they  had  kept  in  waiting. 

All  this  was  most  extraordinary,  and  Bella  could 
make  nothing  of  it  but  that  John  was  in  the  right. 
How  in  the  right,  and  how  suspected  of  being  in  the 
wrong,  she  could  not  divine.  Some  vague  idea  that  he 
had  never  really  assumed  the  name  of  Handford,  and 


THE  PASSING  SHADOW. 


371 


that  there  was  a remarkable  likeness  between  him  and 
that  mysterious  person,  was  her  nearest  approach  to 
any  definite  explanation.  But  John  wa«  triumphant; 
that  much  was  made  apparent;  and  she  could  wait  for 
the  rest. 

When  John  came  home  to  dinner  next  day,  he  said, 
sitting  down  on  the  sofa  by  Bella  and  baby  Bella:  My 
dear,  I have  a piece  of  news  to  tell  you.  1 have  left  the 
China  House.” 

I As  he  seemed  to  like  having  left  it,  Bella  took  it  for 
^granted  that  there  was  no  misfortune  in  the  case. 

In  a word,  my  love,”  said  John,  the  China  House 
is  broken  up  and  abolished.  There  is  no  such  thing 
any  more.” 

Then,  are  you  already  in  another  House,  John?  ” 

‘Wes,  my  darling.  I am  in  another  way  of  business. 
And  I am  rather  better  off.” 

The  inexhaustible  baby  was  instantly  made  to  con- 
gratulate him,  and  to  say,  with  appropriate  action  on 
the  part  of  a very  limp  arm  and  a speckled  fist:  “ Three 
cheers,  ladies  and  gemplemorums.  Hoo — ray!” 

•‘I  am  afraid,  my  life,”  said  John,  “that  you  have 
become  very  much  attached  to  this  cottage?  ” 

“ Afraid  I have,  John!  Of  course  I have.” 

“ The  reason  why  I said  afraid,”  returned  John,  “ is, 
because  we  must  move.” 

“ Oh,  John!  ” 

“Yes,  my  dear,  we  must  move.  We  must  have  our 
head-quarters  in  London  now.  In  short,  there’s  a 
dwelling-house,  rent  free,  attached  to  my  new  position, 
and  we  must  occupy  it.” 

“ That’s  a gain,  John.” 

“Yes,  my  dear,  it  is  undoubtedly  a gain.” 

He  gave  her  a very  blythe  look,  and  a very  sly  look. 
Which  occasioned  the  inexhaustible  baby  to  square  at 
him  with  the  speckled  fists,  and  demand  in  a threaten- 
ing manner  what  he  meant? 

“ My  love,  you  said  it  was  a gain,  and  I said  it  was  a 
gain.  A very  innocent  remark  surely.” 

“I  won’t,”  said  the  inexhaustible  baby,  “ — allow — 
you — to — make — game — of — my — venerable — ma.  ” At 
each  division  administering  a soft  facer  with  one  of  the 
speckled  fists. 

John  having  stooped  down  to  receive  these  punishing 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


visitations^  Bella  asked  him,  would  it  be  necessary  to 
move  soon?  Why,  yes,  indeed  (said  John),  he  did  pro- 
pose that  th^  should  move  very  soon.  Taking  the 
furniture  with  them,  of  course?  (said  Bella).  Why,  no 
(said  John),  the  fact  was,  that  the  house  was — in  a sort 
of  a kind  of  a way — furnished  already. 

The  inexhaustible  baby,  hearing  this,  resumed  the 
offensive,  and  said:  But  there’s  no  nursery  for  me,  sir. 
What  do  you  mean,  marble-hearted  parent?”  To  which 
the  marble-hearted  parent  rejoined  that  there  was  a — 
sort  of  a kind  of  a — nursery,  and  it  might  be  ^^made  to 
do.”  Made  to  do!”  returned  the  Inexhaustible,  ad- 
ministering more  punishment,  ^^what  do  you  tak^  me 
for?”  And  was  then  turned  over  on  its  back  in  Bella’s 
lap,  and  smothered  with  kisses. 

But  really,  John  dear,”  said  Bella,  flushed  in  quite 
a lovely  manner  by  these  exercises,  will  the  new 
house,  just  as  it  stands,  do  for  baby  ? That’s  the  ques- 
tion.” 

‘^I  felt  that  to  be  the  question,”  he  returned,  and 
therefore  I arranged  that  you  should  come  with  me  and 
look  at  it  to-morrow  morning.”  Appointment  made, 
accordingly,  for  Bella  to  go  up  with  him  to-morrow 
morning;  John  kissed;  and  Bella  delighted. 

When  they  reached  London  in  pursuance  of  their  lit- 
tle plan,  they  took  coach  and  drove  westward.  Not  only 
drove  westward,  but  drove  into  that  particular  west- 
ward division  which  Bella  had  seen  last  when  she 
turned  her  face  from  Mr.  Boffin’s  door.  Not  only  drove 
into  that  particular  division,  but  drove  at  last  into  that 
very  street.  Not  only  drove  into  that  very  street,  but 
stopped  at  last  at  that  very  house. 

John  dear!”  cried  Bella,  looking  out  of  window  in  a 
flutter.  Do  you  see  where  we  are?” 

^Wes,  my  love.  The  coachman’s  quite  right.” 

The  house-door  was  opened  without  any  knocking  or 
ringing,  and  John  promptly  helped  her  out.  The  ser- 
vant who  stood  holding  the  door,  asked  no  question  of 
John,  neither  did  he  go  before  them  or  follow  them  as 
they  went  straight  up-stairs.  It  was  only  her  husband’s 
encircling  arm,  urging  her  on,  that  prevented  Bella 
from  stopping  at  the  foot  of  the  staircase.  As  they 
ascended,  it  was  seen  to  be  tastefully  ornamented  with 
most  beautiful  flowers. 


THE  GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  SCATTERS  DUST.  373 


‘^Oh,  John!’’  said  Bella  faintly.  ^^What  does  this 
mean? ” 

Nothing,  my  darling,  nothing.  Let  us  go  on.” 

Going  on  a little  higher,  they  came  to  a charming 
aviary,  in  which  a number  of  tropical  birds,  more  gor- 
geous in  colour  than  the  flowers,  were  flying  about;  and 
among  those  birds  were  gold  and  silver  flsh,  and 
mosses,  and  water-lilies,  and  a fountain,  and  all  man- 
ner of  wonders. 

^^Oh,  my  dear  John!”  said  Bella.  What  does  this 
mean?  ” 

Nothing,  my  darling,  nothing.  Let  us  go  on.” 

They  went  on,  until  they  came  to  a door.  As  John  put 
out  his  hand  to  open  it,  Bella  caught  his  hand. 

don’t  know  what  it  means,  but  it’s  too  much  for 
me.  Hold  me,  John,  love!” 

John  caught  her  up  in  his  arm,  and  lightly  dashed 
into  the  room  with  her. 

Behold  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin  beaming!  Behold  Mrs. 
Boffin  clapping  her  hands  in  an  ecstacy,  running  to 
Bella  with  tears  of  joy  pouring  down  her  comely  face, 
and  folding  her  to  her  breast,  with  the  words:  ^‘My 
deary,  deary,  deary  girl,  that  Noddy  and  me  saw  mar- 
ried and  couldn’t  wish  joy  to,  or  so  much  as  speak  to! 
My  deary,  deary,  deary  wife  of  John  and  mother  of 
his  little  child!  My  loving,  loving,  bright,  bright. 
Pretty,  Pretty!  Welcome  to  your  house  and  home,  my 
deary!” 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

SHOWING  HOW  THE  GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  HELPED  TO  SCAT- 
TER DUST. 

IN  all  the  first  bewilderment  of  her  wonder,  the  most 
bewilderingly  wonderful  thing  to  Bella  was  the 
shining  countenance  of  Mr.  Boffin.  That  his  wife 
should  be  joyous,  open-hearted,  and  genial,  or  that  her 
face  should  express  every  quality  that  was  large  and 
trusting,  and  no  quality  that  was  little  or  mean,  was 
accordant  with  Bella’s  experience.  But  that  he,  witli 
a perfectly  beneficent  air  and  a plump  rosy  face,  should 


374 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


be  standing  there  looking,  at  her  and  John,  like  some 
jovial  good  spirit,  was  marvellous.  For  how  had  he 
looked  when  she  last  saw  him  in  that  very  room  (it  was 
the  room  in  which  she  had  given  him  that  piece  of  her 
mind  at  parting),  and  what  had  become  of  all  those 
crooked  lines  of  suspicion,  avarice,  and  distrust,  that 
twisted  his  visage  then  ? 

Mrs.  Boffin  seated  Bella  on  the  large  ottoman,  and 
seated  herself  beside  her,  and  John  her  husband  seated 
himself  on  the  other  side  of  her,  and  Mr.  Boffin  stood 
beaming  at  every  one  and  everything  he  could  see  with 
surpassing  jollity  and  enjoyment.  Mrs.  Boffin  was  then 
taken  with  a laughing  fit  of  clapping  her  hands,  and 
clapping  her  knees,  and  rocking  herself  to  and  fro, 
and  then  with  another  laughing  fit  of  embracing  Bella, 
and  rocking  her  to  and  fro — both  fits  of  considerable 
duration. 

^^Old  lady,  old  lady,’’  said  Mr.  Boffin,  at  length,  ^ffif 
you  don’t  begin,  somebody  else  must.” 

^‘Fm  going  to  begin.  Noddy,  my  dear,”  returned 
Mrs.  Boffin.  Only  it  isn’t  easy  for  a person  to  know 
where  to  begin,  when  a person  is  in  this  state  of  de- 
light and  happiness,  Bella,  my  dear.  Tell  me,  who’  this  ? ” 
Who  is  this  ?”  repeated  Bella.  My  husband.” 

''Ah!  But  tell  me  his  name,  deary!”  cried  Mrs. 
Boffin. 

" Rokesmith.” 

"No,  it  ain’t!”  cried  Mrs.  Boffin,  clapping  her  hands, 
and  shaking  her  head.  " Not  a bit  of  it.” 

"Handford,  then,”  suggested  Bella. 

" No,  it  ain’t!”  cried  Mrs.  Boffin,  again  clapping  her 
hands  and  shaking  he]>head.  "Not  a bit  of  it.” 

" At  least  his  name  is  John,  I suppose?  ” said  Bella. 

"Ah!  I should  think  so,  deary!”  cried  Mrs.  Boffin. 
" I should  hope  so.  Many  and  many  is  the  time  I have 
called  him  by  his  name  of  John.  But  what’s  his  other 
name,  his  true  other  name  ? Give  a guess,  my  pretty ! ” 

" I can’t  guess,”  said  Bella,  turning  her  pale  face  from 
one  to  another. 

" J could,”  cried  Mrs.  Boffin,  "and,  what’s  more,  I 
did.  I found  him  out,  all  in  a fiash  as  I may  say,  one 
night.  Didn’t  I,  Noddy?” 

"Ay!  That  the  old  lady  did,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  with 
stout  pride  in  the  circumstance. 


THE  GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  SCATTERS  DUST.  3^5 

Harkee  to  me,  deary,”  pursued  Mrs.  Boffin,  taking 
Bella’s  hands  between  her  own,  and  gently  beating  on 
them  from  time  to  time.  It  was  after  a particular 
night  when  John  had  been  disappointed — as  he  thought 
— in  his  affections.  It  was  after  a night  when  John  had 
made  an  offer  to  a certain  young  lady,  and  the  certain 
young  lady  had  refused  it.  It  was  after  a particular 
night,  when  he  felt  himself  cast-a  way -like,  and  had 
made  up  his  mind  to  go  seek  his  fortune.  It  was  the 
very  next  night.  My  Noddy  wanted  a paper  out  of  his 
Secretary’s  room,  and  I says  to  Noddy,  ^ I am  going  by 
the  door,  and  I’ll  ask  him  for  it.’  I tapped  at  his  door, 
and  he  didn’t  hear  me.  I looked  in  and  saw  him  a sit- 
ting lonely  by  his  fire,  brooding  over  it.  He  chanced 
to  look  up  with  a pleased  kind  of  smile  in  my  company 
when  he  saw  me,  and  then  in  a single  moment  every 
grain  of  the  gunpowder  that  had  been  lying  sprinkled 
thick  about  him  ever  since  I first  set  eyes  upon  him  as 
a man  at  the  Bower,  took  fire.  Too  many  a time  had 
I seen  him  sitting  lonely,  when  he  was  a poor  child,  to  be 
pitied,  heart  and  hand!  Too  many  a time  had  I seen 
him  in  need  of  being  brightened  up  with  a comforting- 
word  ! Too  many  and  too  many  a time  to  be  mistaken, 
when  that  glimpse  of  him  come  at  last  ! No,  no!  I 
just  makes  out  to  cry,  ^I  knowyounow!  You’re  John!’ 
•And  he  catches  me  as  I drops.— So  what,”  said  Mrs. 
Boffin,  breaking  off  iu  the  rush  of  her  speech  to  smile 
most  radiantly,  might  you  think  by  this  time  that 
your  husband’s  name  was,  dear?” 

^^Not,”  returned  Bella,  with  quivering  lips,  not 
Harmon  ? That’s  not  possible  ! ” 

Don’t  tremble.  Why  not  possible,  deary,  when  so 
many  things  are  possible  ? ” demanded  Mrs.  Boffin,  in  a 
soothing  tone. 

He  was  killed,”  gasped  Bella. 

Thought  to  be,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin.  But  if  ever  John 
Harmon  drew  the  breath  of  life  on  earth,  that  is  cer- 
tainly J ohn  Harmon’s  arm  round  your  waist  now,  my 
pretty.  If  ever  John  Harmon  had  a wife  on  earth, 
that  wife  is  certainly  you.  If  ever  John  Harmon  and 
his  wife  had  a child  on  earth,  that  child  is  certainly  this.” 

By  a master-stroke  of  secret  arrangement,  the  inex- 
haustible baby  here  appeared  at  the  door,  suspended  in 
mid-air  by  invisible  agency.  Mrs.  Boffin,  plunging  at 


376 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

it,  brought  it  to  Bella’s  lap,  where  both  Mrs.  and  Mr. 
Boffin  (as  the  saying  is)  took  it  out  of  ” the  Inexhausti- 
ble in  a shower  of  caresses.  It  was  only  this  timely  ap- 
pearance that  kept  Bella  from  swooning.  This,  and  her 
husband’s  earnestness  in  explaining  further  to  her  how 
it  had  come  to  pass  that  he  had  been  supposed  to  be 
slain,  and  had  even  been  suspected  of  his  own  murder  ; 
•also,  how  he  had  put  a pious  fraud  upon  her  which  had 
preyed  upon  his  mind,  as  the  time  for  its  disclosure  ap- 
proached, lest  she  might  not  make  full  allowance  for 
the  object  with  which  it  had  originated,  and  in  which  it 
had  fully  developed. 

But  bless  ye,  my  beauty  ! ” cried  Mrs.  Boffin,  taking 
him  up  short  at  this  point,  with  another  hearty  clap  of 
her  hands.  It  wasn’t  John  only  that  was  in  it.  We 
was  all  of  us  in  it.” 

I don’t,”  said  Bella,  looking  vacantly  from  one  to 
another,  yet  understand ” 

Of  course  you  don’t,  my  deary!”  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Boffin.  How  can  you  till  you’re  told  ? So  now  I 
am  a-going  to  tell  you.  So  you  put  your  two  hands 
between  my  two  hands  again,”  cried  the  comfort- 
able creature,  embracing  her,  ^^with  that  blessed 
little  pictur  lying  on  your  lap,  and  you  shall  be 
told  all  the  story.  Now  I’m  a-going  to  tell  the  story. 
Once,  twice,  three  times,  and  the  horses  is  off.  Here 
they  go!  When  I cribs  out  that  night,  H knovsr  you 
now,  you’re  John  ! ’ — which  was  my  exact  words  ; wasn’t 
• they,  John  ? ” 

''Your  exact  words,”  said  John,  laying  his  hand  on 
hers. 

^ " That’s  a very  good  arrangement,”  cried  Mrs.  Boffin. 
''  Keep  it  there,  John.  And,  as  we  was  all  of  us  in  it. 
Noddy  you  come  and  lay  yours  atop  of  his,  and  we 
won’t  break  the  pile  till  the  story’s  done.” 

Mr.  Boffin  hitched  up  a chair,  and  added  his  broad 
brown  right  hand  to  the  heap. 

" That’s  capital  ! ” said  Mrs.  Boffin,  giving  it  a kiss. 
"Seems  quite  a family  building;  don’t  it?  But  the 
horses  is  off.  Well!  When  I cries  out  that  night,  'I 
know  you  now  ! you’re  John  !’  John  catches  of  me,  it 
is  true  ; but  I ain’t  a light  weight,  bless  ye,  and  he’s 
forced  to  let  me  down.  Noddy,  he  hears  a noise,  and 
in  he  trots,  and  as  soon  as  I anyways  comes  to  myself 


THE  GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  SCATTERS  DUST.  377 

I calls  to  him,  ^ Noddy,  well  I might  say  as  I did  say, 
that  night  at  the  Bower,  for,  the  Lord  be  thankful,  this 
is  John  !’  On  which  he  gives  af  heave,  and  down  he 
goes  likewise,  with  his  head  under  the  writing-table. 
This  brings  me  round  comfortable,  and  that  brings  him 
round  comfortable,  and  then  John  and  him  and  me  we 
all  fall  a crying  for  joy.” 

Yes  ! They  cry  for  joy,  my  darling,”  her  husband 
struck  in.  ^^You  understand?  These  two,  whom  I 
come  to  life  to  disappoint  and  dispossess,  cry  for  joy!” 

Bella  looked  at  him  confusedly,  and  looked  again  at 
Mrs.  Boffin’s  radiant  face. 

That’s  right,  my  dear,  don’t  mind  him,”  said  Mrs. 
Boffin;  ‘‘stick  to  me.  Well!  Then  we  sits  down, 
gradually  gets  cool,  and  holds  a confabulation.  John, 
he  tells  us  how  he  is  despairing  in  his  mind  on  accounts 
of  a certain  fair  young  person,  and  how,  if  I hadn’t 
found  him  out,  he  was  going  away  to  seek  his  for- 
tune far  and  wide,  and  had  fully  meant  never  to  come 
to  life,  but  to  leave  the  property  as  our  wrongful  inherit- 
ance for  ever  and  a day.  At  which  you  never  see  a man 
so  frightened  as  my  Noddy  was.  For  to  think  that  he 
should  have  come  into  the  property  wrongful,  however 
innocent,  and — more  than  that — might  have  gone  on 
keeping  it  to  his  dying  day,  turned  him  whiter  than 
chalk.” 

“And  you  too,”  said  Mr.  Boffin. 

“Don’t  you  mind  him,  neither,  my  deary,”  resumed 
Mrs.  Boffin;  “ stick  to  me.  This  brings  up  a confabu- 
lation regarding  the  certain  fair  young  person  ; when 
Noddy,  he  gives  it  as  his  opinion  that  she  is  a deary 
creetur.  ‘ She  may  be  a leetle  spoilt,  and  nat’rally 
^spoilt,’  he  sa.ys,  ‘ by  circumstances,  but  that’s  only  on 
The  surface,  and  I lay  my  life,’  he  says,  ‘ that  she’s 
the  true  golden  gold  at  heart.’” 

“ So  did  you,”  said  Mr.  Boffin. 

“ Don’t  you  mind  him  a single  morsel,  my  dear,”  pro- 
ceeded Mrs.  Boffin,  “ but  stick  to  me.  Then  says  John, 
Oh,  if  he  could  but  prove  so!  Then  we  both  of  us  ups 
and  says,  that  minute,  ‘ Prove  so  ! ’ ” 

With  a start,  Bella  directed  a hurried  glance  towards 
Mr.  Boffin.  But  he  was  sitting  thoughtfully  smiling  at 
that  broad  brown  hand  of  his,  and  either  didn’t  see  it^ 
or  ^ould  take  no  notice  of  it. 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


ntyn 
0/0 

Prove  it,  John  T we  says/’ repeated  Mrs.  Boffin. 
'''Prove  it  and  overcome  your  doubts  with  triumph 
and  be  happy  for  the  first  time  in  your  life  and  for  the 
rest  of  your  life.’  This  puts  John  in«a  state,  to  be  sure. 
Then  we  says.  ' What  will  content  you  ? If  she  was  to. 
stand  up  for  you  when  you  was  slighted,  if  she  was  to 
show  herself  of  a generous  mind  when  you  was  op- 
pressed, if  she  was  to  be  truest  to  you  when  you  was 
poorest  and  friendliest,  and  all  this  against  her  own 
seeming  interest,  how  would  that  do?’  'Do?’ says 
John,  ' it  would  raise  me  to  the  skies!  ’ ' Then,’  says  my 
Noddy,  'make  your  preparations  for  the  ascent,  John, 
it  being  my  firm ’belief  that  up  you  go  1 ’” 

Bella  caught  Mr.  Boffin’s  twinkling  eye  for  half  an 
instant ; but  he  got  it  away  from  her,  and  restored  it  to 
his  broad  brown  hand. 

"From  the  first  you  was  always  a special  favourite 
of  Noddy’s,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin,  shaking  her  head.  " Oh, 
you  were  ! And  if  I had  been  inclined  to  be  jealous,  I 
don’t  know  what  I mightn’t  have  done  to  you.  But  as 
I wasn’t — why,  my  beauty,”  with  a hearty  laugh  and  an 
embrace,  " I made  you  a special  favourite  of  my  oAvn 
too.  But  the  horses  is  coming  round  the  corner.  Well  ! 
Then  says  my  Noddy,  shaking  his  sides  till  he  was  fit 
to  make  ’em  ache  again  : ' Look  out  for  being  slighted 
and  oppressed,  John,  for  if  ever  a man  had  a hard  mas- 
ter, you  shall  find  me  from  this  present  time  to  be  such 
to  you.’  And  then  he  began  !”  cried  Mrs.  Boffin,  in  an 
ecstasy  of  admiration.  " Lord  bless  you,  then  he  began  ! 
And  how  he  did  begin  ; didn’t  he  ? ” ^ 

Bella  looked  half  frightened,  and  yet  half  laughed. 

"But,  bless  you,”  pursued  Mrs.  Boffin,  "if  you  could 
have  seen  him  of  a night,  at  that  time  of  it ! The  way 
he’d  sit  and  chuckle  over  himself  ! The  way  he’d  say, 

' I’ve  been  a regular  brown  bear  to-day,’  and  take  him- 
self in  his  arms  and  hug  himself  at  the  thoughgts  of  the 
brute  he  had  pretended.  But  every  night  he  says  to 
me:  ' Better  and  better,  old  lady.  What  did  we  say  of 
her  ? She’ll  come  through  it,  the  true  golden  gold.  This’ll 
be  the  happiest  piece  of  work  we  ever  done.’  And  then 
he’d  say,  ' I’ll  be  a grislier  old  growler  to-morrow!  ’ and 
laugh,  he  would,  till  John  and  me  was  often  forced  to 
slap  his  back,  and  bring  it  out  of  his  windpipes  with  a 
little  water.” 


THE  GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  SCATTERS  DUST.  379 


Mr.  Boffin,  with  his  face  bent  over  his  heavy  hand, 
made  no  sound,  but  rolled  his  shoulders  when  thus  re- 
ferred to,  as  if  he  were  vastly  enjoying  himself. 

And  so,  my  good  and  pretty,’’  pursued  Mrs.  Boffin, 
‘^you  was  married,  and  there  was  we  hid  up  in  the 
church  organ  by  this  husband  of  yours;  for  he  wouldn’t 
let  us  out  with  it  then,  as  was  first  meant.  ^No,’  he  says, 

‘ she’s  so  unselfish  and  contented  that  I can’t  afford  to 
be  rich  yet.  I must  wait  a little  longer.’  Then,  when 
baby  was  expected  he  says,  ^'She  is  such  a cheerful, 
glorious  housewife  that  I can’t  afford  to  be  rich  yet. 
I must  wait  a little  longer.’  Then,  when  baby  was  born, 
he  says,  / She  is  so  much  better  than  she  ever  was,  that 
I can’t  afford  to  be  rich  yet.  I must  wait  a little 
longer.’  And  so  he  goes  on  and  on,  till  I says  outright, 

^ Now,  John,  if  you  don’t  fix  a time  for  setting  her  up 
in  her  own  house  and  home,  and  letting  us  walk  out  of 
it.  I’ll  turn  Informer.’  Then  he  says  he’ll  only  wait  to 
triumph  beyond  what  we  ever  thought  possible,  and  to 
show  her  to  us  better  than  even  we  ever  supposed;  and 
he  says,  ^ She  shall  see  me  under  suspicion  of  having 
murdered  myself,  and  you  shall  see  how  trusting  and 
how  true  she’ll  be.’  Well ! Noddy  and  me  agreed  to 
that,  and  he  was  right,  and  here  you  are,  and  the 
horses  is  in,  and  the  story  is  done,  and  God  bless  you, 
my  Beauty,  and  God  bless  us  all ! ” 

The  pile  of  hands  dispersed,  and  Bella  and  Mrs.  Boffin 
took  a good  long  hug  of  one  another:  to  the  apparent 
peril  of  the  inexhaustible  baby,  lying  staring  in  Bella’s 
lap. 

But  is  the  story  done  ?”  said  Bella,  pondering.  Is 
there  no  more  of  it  ? ” 

''What  more  of  it  should  there  be,  deary?”  returned 
Mrs.  Boffin,  full  of  glee. 

"Are  you  sure  you  have  left  nothing  out  of  it?” 
asked  Bella. 

"I  don’t  think  I have,”  said  Mrs.  Boffin  archly. 

"John  dear,”  said  Bella,  "you’re  a good  nurse  ; v/ill 
you  please  hold  baby?”  Having  deposited  the  Inex- 
haustible in  his  arms  with  those  words,  Bella  looked 
hard  at  Mr.  Boffin,  who  had  moved  to  a table  where  he 
was  leaning  his  head  upon  his  hand  with  his  face 
turned  away,  and,  quietly  settling  herself  on  her  knees 
at  his  side,  and  drawing  one  arm  over  his  shoulder, 


380 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


said:  ^^Please  I beg  your  pardon,  and  I made  a small 
mistake  of  a word  when  I took  leave  of  you  last. 
Please  I think  you  are  better  (not  worse)  than  Hopkins, 
better  (not  worse)  than  Dancer,  better  (not  worse)  than  ’ 
Blackberry  Jones,  better  (not  worse)  than  any  of  them! 
Please  something  more!  ” cried  Bella,  with  an  exultant 
ringing  laugh  as  she  struggled  with  him,  and  forced 
him  to  turn  his  delighted  face  to  hers.  Please  I have 
found  out  something  not  yet  mentioned.  Please  I don't 
believe  you  are  a hard-hearted  miser  at  all,  and  please 
I don’t  believe  you  ever  for  one  single  minute  were!  ” 

At  this  Mrs.  Boffin  fairly  screamed  with  rapture,  and 
sat  beating  her  feet  upon  the  floor,  clapping  her  hands, 
and  bobbing  herself  backwards  and  forwards,  like  a 
demented  member  of  some  Mandarin’s  family. 

Oh,  I understand  you  now,  sir!”  cried  Bella. 
want  jieither  you  nor  any  one  else  to  tell  me  the  rest  of 
the  story.  I can  tell  it  to  you  now,  if  you  would  like 
to  hear  it.” 

Can  you,  my  dear?  ” said  Mr.  Boffin.  Tell  it,  then.” 

^^What!”  cried  Bella,  holding  him  prisoner  by  the 
coat  with  both  hands.  When  you  saw  what  a greedy 
little  wretch  you  were  the  patron  of,  you  determined  to 
show  her  how  much  misused  and  misprized  riches  could 
do,  and  often  had  done,  to  spoil  people;  did  you?  Not 
caring  what  she  thought  of  you  (and  Goodness  knows 
that  was  of  no  consequence!)  you  showed  her,  in  your- 
self, the  most  detestable  sides  of  wealth,  saying  in  your 
own  mind,  ^ This  shallow  creature  would  never  work 
the  truth  out  of  her  own  weak  soul,  if  she  had  a hun- 
dred years  to  do  it  in;  but  a glaring  instance  kept  be- 
fore her  may  open  even  her  eyes  and  set  her  thinking. 
That  was  what  you  said  to  yourself  ; was  it,  sir?  ” 

never  said  anything  of  the  sort,”  Mr.  Boffin  de- 
clared in  a state  of  the  highest  enjoyment. 

Then  you  ought  to  have  said  it,  sir,”  returned  Bella, 
giving  him  two  pulls  and  one  kiss,  for  you  must  have 
thought  and  meant  it.  You  saw  that  good  fortune  was 
turning  my  stupid  head  and  hardening  my  silly  heart — 
was  marking  me  grasping,  calculating,  insolent,  insuffer- 
able— and  you  took  the  pains  to  be  the  dearest  and 
kindest  flnger-post  that  ever  was  set  up  anywhere, 
pointing  out  the  road  that  I was  taking  and  the  end  it 
led  to.  Confess  instantly  ! ” 


THE  GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  SCATTERS  DUST.  381 


John,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  one  broad  piece  of  sunshine 
from  head  to  foot,  I wish  you'd  help  me  out  of  this.” 

You  can't  be  heard  by  counsel,  sir,”  returned  Bella. 

You  must  speak  for  yourself.  Confess  instantly  !” 

''Well,  my  dear,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  "the  truth  is,  that 
when  we  did  go  in  for  the  little  scheme  that  my  old 
lady  has  pinted  out,  I did  put  it  to  John,  what  did  he 
think  of  going  in  for  some  such  general  scheme  as  you 
have  pinted  out  ? But  I didn't  in  any  way  so  word  it, 
because  I didn't  in  any  way  so  mean  it.  I only  said  to 
John,  wouldn't  it  be  more  consistent,  me  going  in  for 
being  a reg'lar  brown  bear  respecting  him,  to  go  in  as  a 
reg'lar  brown  bear  all  round  ? ” 

" Confess  this  minute,  sir,”  said  Bella,  "that  you  did 
it  to  correct  and  amend  me  ! ” 

" Certainly,  my  dear  child,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  " I didn't 
do  it  to  harm  you  ; you  may  be  sure  of  that.  And  I did 
hope  it  might  just  hint  a caution.  Still,  it  ought  to  be 
mentioned  that  no  sooner  had  my  old  lady  found  out 
John,  than  John  made  known  to  her  and  me  that  he 
had  had  his  eye  upon  a thankless  person  by  the  name 
of  Silas  Wegg.  Partly  for  the  punishment  of  which 
Wegg,  by  leading  him  on  in  a very  unhandsome  and 
underhanded  game  that  he  was  playing,  them  books  that 
you  and  me  bought  so  many  of  together  (and,  by-the- 
by  my  dear,  he  wasn't  Blackberry  Jones,  but  Blew- 
bury)  was  read  aloud  to  me  by  that  person  of  the  name 
of  Silas  Wegg  aforesaid.” 

Bella,  who  was  still  on  her  knees  at  Mr.  Boffin's  feet, 
gradually  sank  into  a sitting  posture  on  the  ground,  as 
she  meditated  more  and  more  thoughtfully,  with  her 
eyes  upon  his  beaming  face. 

"Still,”  said  Bella,  after  this  meditative  pause,  "there 
remain  two  things  that  I cannot  understand.  Mrs. 
Boffin  never  supposed  any  part  of  the  change  in 
Mr.  Boffin  to  be  real  ; did  she  ? — You  never  did  ; did 
you  ?”  asked  Bella,  turning  to  her. 

"No!”  returned  Mrs.  Boffin,  with  a most  rotund  and 
glowing  negative. 

"And  yet  you  took  it  very  much  to  heart,”  said  Bella. 
" I remember  its  making  you  very  uneasy  indeed.” 

" Ecod,  you  see  Mrs.  John  has  a sharp  eye,  John!” 
cried  Mr.  Boffin,  shaking  his  head  with  an  admiring 
air.  "You're  right,  my  dear.  The  old  lady  nearly 


m 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


blowed  us  into  shivers  and  smithers,  many  times. 

Why/’  asked  Bella.  How  did  that  happen,  when 
she  was  in  your  secret?” 

^^Why,  it  was  a weakness  in  the  old  lady,”  said 
Mr.  Boffin;  and  yet,  to  tell  you  the  whole  truth  and 
nothing  but  the  truth.  I’m  rather  proud  of  it.  My  dear, 
the  old  lady  thinks  so  high  of  me  that  she  couldn’t  abear 
to  see  and  hear  me  coming  out  as  a reg’lar  brown 
one.  Couldn’t  abear  to  make  believe  as  I meant  it!  In 
consequence  of  which,  we  was  everlastingly  in  danger 
with  her.” 

Mrs.  Boffin  laughed  heartily  at  herself;  but  a certain 
glistening  in  her  honest  eyes  revealed  that  she  was  by 
no  means  cured  of  that  dangerous  propensity. 

''  I assure  you,  my  dear,”  said  Mr.Boffin,  ''  that  on  the 
celebrated  day  when  I made  what  has  since  been  agreed 
upon  to  be  my  grandest  demonstration — T allude  to  Mew 
says  the  cat.  Quack-quack  says  the  duck,  and  Bow- 
wow-wow says  the  dog — I assure  you  my  dear,  that  on 
that  celebrated  day,  them  flinty  and  unbelieving  words 
hit  my  old  lady  so  hard  on  my  account,  that  I had  to 
hold  her  to  prevent  her  running  out  after  you,  and  de- 
fending me  by  saying  I was  playing  a part.” 

Mrs.  Boffin  laughed  heartily  again,  and  her  eyes 
glistened  again,  and  it  then  appeared,  not  only  that  in 
that  burst  of  sarcastic  eloquence  Mr.  Boffin  was  con- 
sidered by  his  two  fellow-conspirators  to  have  outdone 
himself,  but  that  in  his  own  opinion  it  was  a remark- 
able achievement.  Never  thought  of  it  afore  the  mo- 
rhent,  my  dear  !”  he  observed  to  Bella.  When  John 
said,  if  he  had  been  so  happy  as  to  win  your  affections 
and  possess  your  heart,  it  come  into  my  head  to  turn 
round  upon  him  with  ^ Win  her  affections  and  possess 
her  heart!  Mew  says  the  cat.  Quack-quack  says  the 
duck,  and  Bow-wow-wow  says  the  dog.’  I couldn’t  tell 
you  how  it  come  into  my  head  or  where  from,  but  it  had 
so  much  the  sound  of  a rasper  that  I own  to  you  it 
astonished  myself.  I was  awful  nigh  bursting  out  a 
laughing,  though,  when  it  made  John  stare!” 

''You  said,  my  pretty,”  Mrs.  Boffin  reminded  Bella, 
" that  there  was  one  other  thing  you  couldn’t  under- 
stand.” 

"Oyes!”  cried  Bella  covering  her  face  with  her 
hands  ; " but  that  I never  shall  be  able  to  understand  as 


THE  GOLDEN  DUSTMAN  SCATTERS  DUST.  383 

long  as  I live.  It  is,  how  John  could  love  me  so  when  I 
so  little  deserved  it,  and  how  you,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin, 
could  be  so  forgetful  of  yourselves,  and  take  such  pains 
and  trouble,  to  make  me  a little  better,  and  after  all  to 
help  him  to  so  unworthy  a wife.  But  I am  very 
grateful.'’ 

It  was  John  Harmon's  turn  then — John  Harmon  now 
for  good,  and  John  Rokesmith  for  nevermore — to  plead 
with  her  (quite  unnecessarily)  in  behalf  of  his  (iecep- 
tion,  and  to  tell  her,  over  and  over  again,  that  it  had 
been  prolonged  by  her  own  winning  graces  in  her  sup- 
posed station  of  life.  This  led  on  to  many  inter- 
changes of  endearment  and  enjoyment  on  all  sides,  in 
the  midst  of  which  tine  Inexhaustible  being  observed 
staring,  in  a most  imbecile  manner,  on  Mrs.  Boffin's 
breast,  was  pronounced  to  be  supernaturally  intelligent 
as  to  the  whole  transaction,  and  was  made  to  declare 
to  the  ladies  and  gemplemorums,  with  a wave  of  the 
speckled  fist  (with  difficulty  detached  from  an  exceed- 
ing short  waist),  I have  already  informed  my  vener- 
able ma  that  I know  all  about  it  ! '' 

Then  said  John  Harmon,  would  Mrs.  John  Harmon 
come  and  see  her  house  ? And  a dainty  house  it  was, 
and  a tastefully  beautiful  ; and  they  went  through  it 
in  procession  ; the  Inexhaustible  on  Mrs.  Boffin’s  bosom 
(still  staring)  occupying  the  middle  station,  and  Mr. 
Boffin  bringing  up  the  rear.  And  on  Bella’s  exquisite 
toilet-table  was  an  ivory  casket,  and  in  the  casket 
were  jewels  the  like  of  which  she  had  never  dreamed 
of,  and  aloft  on  an  upper  fioor  was  a nursery  garnished 
as  with  rainbows  ; ^Hhough  we  were  hard  put  to  it," 
said  John  Harmon,  to  get  it  done  in  so  short  a 
time." 

The  house  inspected,  emissaries  removed  the  Inex- 
haustible, who  was  shortly  afterwards  heard  screaming 
among  the  rainbows  ; whereupon  Bella  withdrew  her- 
self from  the  presence  and  knowledge  of  gemple- 
morums, and  the  screaming  ceased,  and  smiling  Peace 
associated  herself  with  that  young  olive-branch. 

^^Come  and  look  in.  Noddy!"  said  Mrs.  Boffin  to 
Mr.  Boffin. 

Mr.  Boffin,  submitting  to  be  led  on  tiptoe  to  the 
nursery  door,  looked  in  with  immense  satisfaction, 
although  there  was  nothing  to  see  but  Bella  in  a musing 


384 


^ OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


state  of  happiness,  seated  in  a little  low  chair  upon  the 
hearth,  with  her  child  in  her  fair  young  arms,  and  her 
soft  eyelashes  shading  her  eyes  from  the  fire. 

It  looks  as  if  the  old  man’s  spirit  had  found  rest  at 
last  ; don’t  it  ? ” said  Mrs.  Boffin. 

Yes,  old  lady.” 

And  as  if  his  money  had  turned  bright  again,  after 
a long  long  rust  in  the  dark,  and  was  at  last  a begin- 
ning to  sparkle  in  the  sunlight  ? ” 

^^Yes,  old  lady.” 

And  it  makes  a pretty  and  a promising  pictur;  don’t 
it?” 

Yes,  old  lady.” 

But,  aware  at  the  instant  of  a fine  opening  for  a 
point,  Mr.  Boffin  quenched  that  observation  in  this — de- 
livered in  the  grisliest  growling  of  the  regular  brown 
bear.  A pretty  and  a hopeful  pictur  ? Mew,  Quack- 
quack,  Bow-wow  ! ” And  then  trotted  silently  down- 
stairs, with  his  shoulders  in  a state  of  the  liveliest  com- 
motion. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


CHECKMATE  TO  THE  FRIENDLY  MOVE. 

R.  and  Mrs.  John  Harmon  had  so  timed  their  tak- 


ing  possession  of  their  rightful  name  and  their 
London  house,  that  the  event  befell  on  the  very  day 
when  the  last  wagon-load  of  the  last  Mound  was 
driven  out  at  the  gates  of  Boffin’s  Bower.  As  it  jolted 
away  Mr.  Wegg  felt  that  the  last  load  was  correspond- 
ingly removed  from  his  mind,  and  hailed  the  auspicious 
season  when  that  black  sheep.  Boffin,  was  to  be  closely 
sheared. 

Over  the  whole  slow  process  of  levelling  the  Mounds, 
Silas  had  kept  watch  with  rapacious  eyes.  But,  eyes 
no  less  rapacious  had  watched  the  growth  of  the 
Mounds  in  years  bygone,  and  had  vigilantly  sifted 
the  dust  of  which  they  were  composed.  No  valuables 
turned  up.  How  should  there  be  any,  seeing  that  the 
old  hard  gaoler  of  Harmony  Gaol  had  coined  every  waif 
and  stray  into  money,  long  before  ? 


CHECKMATE  TO  THE  FRIENDLY  MOVE.  385 


Though  disappointed  by  this  bare  result,  Mr.  Wegg 
felt  too  sensibly  relieved  by  the  close  of  the  labour  to 
grumble  to  any  great  extent.  A foreman  representative 
of  the  dust  contractors,  purchasers  of  the  Mounds,  had 
worn  Mr.  Wegg  down  to  skin  and  bone.  This  super- 
visor of  the  proceedings,  asserting  his  employers’  rights 
to  cart  off  by  daylight,  night-light,  torch-light,  when 
they  would,  must  have  been  the  death  of  Silas  if  the 
work  had  lasted  much  longer.  Seeming  never  to  need 
sleep  himself,  he  would  reappear,  with  a tied-up  broken 
head,  in  fantail  hat  and  velveteen  smalls,  like  an  ac- 
cursed goblin,  at  the  most  unholy  and  untimely  hours. 
Tired  out  by  keeping  close  ward  over  a long  day’s  work 
in  fog  and  rain,  Silas  would  have  just  "crawled 
to  bed  and  be  dozing,  when  a horrid  shake  and  rumble 
under  his  pillow  would  announce  an  approaching  train 
of  carts,  escorted  by  this  Demon  of  Unrest,  to  fall 
to  work  again.  At  another  time,  he  would  be  rum- 
bled up  out  of  his  soundest  sleep  in  the  dead  of  the 
night;  at  another,  would  be  kept  at  his  post  eight-and- 
forty  hours  on  end.  The  more  his  persecutor  besought 
him  not  to  trouble  himself  to  turn  out,  the  more  aus- 
picious was  the  crafty  Wegg  that  indications  had  been 
observed  of  something  hidden  somewhere,  a’nd  that  at- 
tempts were  on  foot  to  circumvent  him.  So  continually 
broken  was  his  rest  through  these  means,  that  he  led 
the  life  of  having  wagered  to  keep  ten  thousand  dog- 
watches in  ten  thousand  hours,  and  looked  piteously 
upon  himself  as  always  getting  up,  and  yet  never  going  to 
bed.  So  gaunt  and  haggard  had  he  grown  at  last,  that 
his  wooden  leg  showed  disproportionate,  and  presented 
a thriving  appearance  in  contrast  with  the  rest  of  his 
plagued  body,  which  might  almost  have  been  termed 
chubby. 

However,  Wegg’s  comfort  was,  that  all  his  disagree- 
ables were  now  over,  and  that  he  was  immediately 
coming  into  his  property.  Of  late  the  grindstone  did 
undoubtedly  appear  to  have  been  whirling  at  his  own 
nose  rather  than  Boffin’s,  but  Boffin’s  nose  was  now  to 
be  sharpened  fine.  Thus  far,  Mr.  Wegg  had  let  his 
dusty  friend  off  lightly,  having  been  balked  in  that 
amiable  design  of  frequently  dining  with  him  by  the 
machinations  of  the  sleepless  dustman.  He  had  been 
constrained  to  depute  Mr.  Venus  to  keep  their  dusty 
VOL.  II.  25 


38G 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


friend,  Boffin,  under  inspection,  while  he  himself  turned 
lank  and  lean  at  the  Bower. 

To  Mr.  Venus’s  museum  Mr.  Wegg  repaired  when  at 
length  the  Mounds  were  down  and  gone.  It  being  even- 
ing, he  found  that  gentleman,  as  he  expected,  seated  over 
his  fire;  but  did  not  find  him  as  he  expected,  floating 
his  powerful  mind  in  tea. 

^^Why,  you  smell  rather  comfortable  here!”  said 
Wegg,  seeming  to  take  it  ill,  and  stopping  and  sniffling 
as||ie  entered. 

^I  am  rather  comfortable,  sir!  ” said  Venus. 

^^You  don’t  use  lemon  in  your  business,  do  you?” 
asked  Wegg,  sniffing  again. 

'‘No,  Mr.  Wegg,”  said  Venus.  " When  I use  it  at  all, 
I mostly  use  it  in  cobbler’s  punch.” 

" What  do  you  call  cobbler’s  punch?”  demanded 
Wegg,  in  a worse  humour  than  before. 

" It’s  difficult  to  impart  the  receipt  for  it,  sir,”  returned 
Venus,  "because,  however  particular  you  may  be  in 
allotting  your  materials,  so  much  will  still  depend  upon 
the  individual  gifts,  and  there  being  a feeling  thrown 
into  it.  But  the  groundwork  is  gin.” 

"In  a Dutch  bottle?”  said  Wegg  gloom-ily,  as  he  sat 
himself  down. 

"Very  good,  sir,  very  good!”  cried  Venus.  " Will 
you  partake,  sir?” 

"Will  I partake?”  returned  Wegg  very  surlily. 
" Why,  of  course  I will ! Will  a man  partake  as  has 
been  tormented  out  of  his  five  senses  by  an  everlasting 
dustman  with  his  head  tied  up  ? Will  he,  too!  As  if 
he  wouldn’t!  ” 

"Don’t  let  it  put  you  out,  Mr.  Wegg.  You  don’t 
seem  in  your  usual  spirits.” 

" If  you  come  to  that,  you  don’t  seem  in  your  usual 
spirits,”  growled  Wegg.  "You  seem  to  be  settingup 
for  lively.” 

This  circumstance  appeared,  in  his  then  state  of  mind, 
to  give  Mr.  Wegg  uncommon  offence. 

" And  you’ve  been  having  your  hair  cut!  ” said  Wegg, 
missing  the  usual  dusty  shock. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Wegg.  But  don’t  let  that  put  you  out,  either.” 

" And  I am  blest  if  you  ain’t  getting  fat!  ” said  Wegg, 
with  culminating  discontent.  " What  are  you  going 
to  do  next?” 


CHECKMATE  TO  THE  FRIENDLY  MOVE.  387 


''  Well,  Mr.  Wegg/’  said  Venus,  smiling  in  a sprightly 
manner,  ‘‘I  suspect  you  could  hardly  guess  what  I am 
going  to  do  next.’’ 

I don’t  want  to  guess,”  retorted  Wegg.  All  I’ve  got 
to  say  is,  that  it’s  well  for  you  that  the  diwision  of  labour 
has  been  what  it  has  been.  It’s  well  for  you  to  have 
had  so  light  a part  in  this  business,  when  mine  has  been 
so  heavy.  You  haven’t  had  your  rest  broke.  I’ll  be 
bound.” 

Not  at  all,  sir,”  said  Venus.  Never  rested  so  well 
in  all  my  life,  I thank  you.” 

^^Ah  !”  grumbled  Wegg,  ^^you  should  have  been  me. 
If  you  had  been  me,  and  had  been  fretted  out  of  your 
bed,  and  your  sleep,  and  your  meals,  and  your  mind, 
for  a stretch  of  months  together,  ^ot^’d  have  been  out  of 
condition  and  out  of  sorts.” 

Certainly  it  has  trained  you  down,  Mr.  Wegg,”  said 
Venus,  contemplating  his  figure  with  an  artist’s  eye. 

Trained  you  down  very  low,  it  has  ! So  weazen  and 
yellow  is  the  kivering  upon  your  bones,  that  one  might 
almost  fancy  you  had  come  to  give  a look-in  upon  the 
French  gentleman  in  the  corner,  instead  of  me.” 

Mr.  Wegg,  glancing  in  great  dudgeon  towards  the 
French  gentleman’s  corner,  seemed  to  notice  something 
new  there,  which  induced  him  to  glance  at  the  opposite 
corner,  and  then  to  put  on  his  glasses  and  stare  at  all 
the  mooks  and  corners  of  the  dim  shop  in  succession. 

Why,  you’ve  been  having  the  place  cleaned  up!  ” he 
exclaimed. 

Yes,  Mr.  Wegg.  By  the  hand  of  adorable  woman.” 

^^Then  what  you’re  going  to  do  next,  I suppose,  is  to 
get  married  ? ” 

That’s  it,  sir.” 

Silas  took  off  his  glasses  again — finding  himself  too 
intensely  disgusted  by  the  sprightly  appearance  of  his 
friend  and  partner,  to  bear  a magnified  view  of  him — 
and  made  the  inquiry  : 

To  the  old  party  ? ” 

^^Mr.  Wegg!”  said  Venus,  with  a sudden  flash  of 
wrath,  ''The  lady  in  question  is  not  a old  party.” 

" I meant,”  explained  Wegg,  testily,  "to  the  party 
as  formerly  objected  ? ” 

"Mr.  Wegg,”  said  Venus,  "in  a case  of  such  delicacy, 
I must  trouble  you  to  say  what  you  mean.  There  are 


388 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIENU 


strings  that  must  not  be  played  upon.  No,  sir  ! Not 
sounded,  unless  in  the  most  respectful  and  tuneful  man- 
ner. Of  such  melodious  strings  is  Miss  Pleasant  Rider- 
hood  formed.’’ 

Then  it  is  the  lady  as  formerly  objected?”  said 
Wegg. 

Sir,”  returned  Venus  with  dignity,  I accept  the 
altered  phrase.  It  is  the  lady  as  formerly  objected.” 

When  is  it  to  come  off?”  asked  Silas. 

^^Mr.  Wegg,”  said  Venus,  with  another  flush. 
cannot  permit  it  to  be  put  in  the  form  of  a Fight.  I 
must  temperately  but  firmly  call  upon  you,  sir,  to 
amend  that  question.” 

^^When  is  the  lady,”  Wegg  reluctantly  demanded, 
constraining  his  ill-temper  in  remembrance  of  the 
partnership  and  its  stock-in-trade,  a-going  to  give  her 
’and  where  she  has  already  given  her  ’art?” 

Sir,”  returned  Venus,  again  accept  the  altered 
phrase,  and  with  pleasure.  The  lady  is  a-going  to 
give  her  ’and  where  she  has  already  given  her  ’art  next 
Monday.” 

Then  the  lady’s  objection  has  been  met?”  said 
Silas. 

Mr.  Wegg,”  said  Venus,  ^^as  I did  name  to  you,  I 
think,  on  a former  occasion,  if  not  on  former  occa- 
sions  ” 

^^On  former  occasions,”  interrupted  Wegg. 

— Wkat,”  pursued  Venus,  what  the  nature  of  the 
lady’s  objection  was,  I may  impart,  without  violating 
any  of  the  tender  confidences  since  sprung  up  between 
the  lady  and  myself,  how  it  has  been  met,  through  the 
kind  interference  of  two  good  friends  of  mine:  one 
previously  acquainted  with  the  lady;  and  one  not.  The 
pint  was  thrown  out,  sir,  by  those  two  friends  when 
they  did  me  the  great  service  of  waiting  on  the  lady  to 
try  if  a union  betwixt  the  lady  and  me  could  not  be 
brought  to  bear — the  pint,  I say,  was  thrown  out  by 
them,  sir,  whether  if,  after  marriage,  I confined  myself 
to  the  articulation  of  men,  children,  and  the  lower  ani- 
mals, it  might  not  relieve  the  lady’s  mind  of  her  feeling 
respecting  being — as  a lady — regarded  in  a bony  light. 
It  was  a happy  thought,  sir,  and  it  took  root.” 

It  would  seem,  Mr.  Venus,”  observed  Wegg,  with  a 
touch  of  distrust,  that  you  are  flush  of  friends?  ” 


CHECKMATE  TO  THE  FRIENDLY  MOVE.  389 


Pretty  well,  sir/’  that  gentleman  answered,  in  a tone 
of  placid  mystery.  So-so,  sir.  Pretty  well.” 

However,”  said  Wegg,  after  eyeing  him  with  another 
touch  of  distrust,  ''  I wish  you  joy.  One  man  spends  his 
fortune  in  one  way,  and  another  in  another.  You  are 
going  to  try  matrimony.  I mean  to  try  travelling.” 

Indeed,  Mr.  Wegg?” 

Change  of  air,  sea  scenery,  and  my  natural  rest,  I 
hope  may  bring  me  round  after  the  persecutions  I have 
undergone  from  the  dustman  with  his  head  tied  up, 
which  I just  now  mentioned.  The  tough  job  being 
ended,  and  the  Mounds  laid  low,  the  hour  is  come  for 
Boffin  to  stump  up.  Would  ten  to-morrow  morning  suit 
you,  partner,  for  finally  bringing  Boffin’s  nose  to  the 
grindstone?” 

Ten  to-morrow  morning  would  quite  suit  Mr.  Venus 
for  that  excellent  purpose. 

^‘Yon  have  had  him  well  under  inspection,  I hope?” 
said  Silas. 

Mr.  Venus  had  had  him  under  inspection  pretty  well 
every  day. 

‘‘Suppose  you  was  just  to  step  round  to-night,  then, 
and  give  him  orders  from  me — I say  from  me,  because 
he  knows  I won’t  be  played  with — to  be  ready  with  his 
papers,  his  accounts,  and  his  cash,  at  that  time  in  the 
morning?”  said  Wegg.  “And  as  a matter  of  form, 
which  will  be  agreeable  to  your  own  feelings,  before 
we  go  out  (for  I’ll  walk  with  you  part  of  the  way, 
though  my  leg  gives  under  me  with  weariness),  let’s 
have  a look  at  the  stock-in-trade.” 

Mr.  Venus  produced  it,  and  it  was  perfectly  correct; 
Mr.  Venus  undertook  to  produce  it  again  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  to  keep  tryst  with  Mr.  Wegg  on  Boffin’s  door- 
step as  the  clock  struck  ten.  At  a certain  point  of  the 
road  between  Clerkenwell  and  Boffin’s  house  (Mr.  Wegg 
expressly  insisted  that  there  should  be  no  prefix  to  the 
Golden  Dustman’s  name)  the  partners  separated  for 
the  night. 

It  was  a very  bad  night,  to  which  succeeded  a very 
bad  morning.  The  streets  were  so  unusually  slushy, 
muddy,  and  miserable  in  the  morning,  that  Wegg  rode 
to  the  scene  of  action;  arguing  that  a man  who  was,  as 
it  were,  going  to  the  Bank  to  draw  out  a handsome 
property,  could  well  afford  that  trifling  expense. 


390 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Venus  was  punctual,  and  Wegg  undertook  to  knock 
at  the  door,  and  conduct  the  conference.  Door  knocked 
at.  Door  opened. 

Boffin  at  home?” 

The  servant  replied  that  Mi\  Boffin  was  at  home. 

He’ll  do,”  said  Wegg,  though  it  ain’t  what  I call 
him.” 

The  servant  inquired  if  they  had  any  appointment. 

Now,  I tell  you  what,  young  fellow,”  said  Wegg,  I 
won’t  have  it.  This  won’t  do  for  me.  I don’t  want 
menials.  I want  Boffin.” 

They  were  shown  into  a waiting-room,  where  the  all- 
powerful  Wegg  wore  his  hat,  and  whistled,  and  with 
his  forefinger  stirred  up  a clock  that  stood  upon  the 
chimney-piece,  until  he  made  it  strike.  In  a few  min- 
utes they  were  shown  up-stairs  into  what  used  to  be 
Boffin’s  room;  which,  besides  the  door  of  entrance,  had 
folding  doors  in  it,  to  make  it  one  of  a suite  of  rooms 
when  occasion  required.  Here,  Boffin  was  seated  at  a 
library  table,  and  here  Mr.  Wegg,  having  imperiously 
motioned  the  servant  to  withdraw,  drew  up  a chair,  and 
seated  himself,  in  his  hat,  close  beside  him.  Here,  also, 
Mr.  Wegg  instantly  underwent  the  remarkable  experi- 
ence of  having  his  hat  twitched  off  his  head,  and  thrown 
out  of  a window,  which  was  opened  and  shut  for  the 
purpose. 

^^Be  careful  what  insolent  liberties*  you  take  in  that 
gentleman’s  presence,”  said  the  owner  of  the  hand 
which  had  done  this,  or  I will  throw  you  after  it.” 

Wegg  involuntarily  clapped  his  hand  to  his  bare 
head,  and  stared  at  the  Secretary.  For,  it  was  he  ad- 
dressed him  with  a severe  countenance,  and  who  had 
come  in  quietly  by  the  folding  doors. 

‘•Qh!”  said  Wegg,  as  soon  as  he  recovered  his  sus- 
pended power  of  speech.  ^ ^ V ery  good  ! I gave  directions 
for  you  to  be  dismissed.  And  you  ain’t  gone,  ain’t  you?  ” 
Oh  ! W^’ll  look  into  this  presently.  Very  good  !” 

No,  nor  I ain’t  gone,”  said  another  voice. 

Somebody  else  had  come  in  quietly  by  the  folding 
doors.  Turning  his  head,  Wegg  beheld  his  persecutor, 
the  ever- wakeful  dustman,  accoutred  with  fantail  hat 
and  velveteen  smalls  complete.  Who,  untying  his  tied- 
up  broken  head,  revealed  a head  that  was  whole,  and  a 
face  that  was  Sloppy’s. 


CHECKMATE  TO  THE  FRIENDLY  MOVE.  391 


‘^Ha,  ha,  ha,  gentlemen!’’  roared  Sloppy  in  a peal  of 
laughter,  and  with  immeasurable  relish.  ^^He  never 
thought  as  I could  sleep  standing,  and  often  done  it 
when  1 turned  for  Mrs.  Higden!  He  never  thought 
as  I used  to  give  Mrs.  Higden  the  Police  news  in  differ- 
ent voices!  But  I did  lead  him  a life  all  through  it, 
gentlemen,  I hope  I really  and  truly  did  ! ” Here  Mr. 
Sloppy,  opening  his  mouth  to  a quite  alarming  extent, 
and  throwing  back  his  head  to  peal  again,  revealed 
incalculable  buttons. 

^^Oh!”  said  Wegg,  slightly  discomfited,  but  not  much 
as  yet:  ^^one  and  one  is  two  not  dismissed,  is  it?  Bof — 
fin!  Just  let  me  ask  a question.  Who  set  this  chap 
on,  in  this  dress,  when  the  carting  began?  Who  em- 
ployed this  fellow?” 

I say  ! ” remonstrated  Sloppy,  jerking  his  head  for- 
ward. No  fellows,  or  J’ll  throw  you  out  of  winder  !” 

Mr.  Boffin  appeased  him  with  a wave  of  his  hand, 
and  said  : I employed  him,  Wegg.” 

Oh  ! You  employed  him.  Boffin  ? Very  good.  Mr. 
Venus,  we  raise  our  terms,  and  we  can’t  do  better  than 
to  proceed  to  business.  Bof — fin  ! I want  the  room 
cleared  of  these  two  scum.” 

^‘That’s  not  going  to  be  done,  Wegg,”  replied  Mr. 
Boffin,  sitting  composedly  on  the  library  table  at  one 
end,  while  the  Secretary  sat  composedly  on  it  at  the 
other. 

Bof — fin  ! Not  going  to  be  done  ?”  repeated  Wegg. 

Not  at  your  peril  ? ” 

No,  Wegg,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  shaking  his  head  good- 
humouredly.  ^^Not  at  my  peril,  and  not  on  any  other 
terms.” 

Wegg  reflected  a moment,  and  then  said:  Mr. 

Venus,  will  you  be  so  good  as  hand  me  over  that  same 
dockyment?” 

Certainly,  sir,”  replied  Venus,  handing  it  to  him 
with  much  politeness.  There  it  is.  Having  now,  sir, 
parted  with  it,  I wish  to  make  a small  observation  : not 
so  much  because  it  is  always  necessary,  or  expresses 
any  new  doctrine  or  discovery,  as  because  it  is  a com- 
fort to  my  mind.  Silas  Wegg,  you  are  a precious  old 
rascal.” 

Mr.  Wegg,  who,  as  if  anticipating  a compliment,  had 
been  beating  time  with  the  paper  to  the  other’s  polite 


392 


OUK  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


ness  until  this  unexpected  conclusion  came  upon  him^ 
stopped  rather  abruptly.  " ^ 

Silas  Wegg/’  said  Venus,  know  that  I took  the 
liberty  of  taking  Mr.  Boffin  into  our  concern  as  a sleep- 
ing partner,  at  a very  early  period  of  our  firm’s  exist- 
ence.” 

Quite  true,”  added  Mr.  Boffin  ; and  I tested  Venus 
by  making  him  a pretended  proposal  or  two  ; and  I 
found  him,  on  the  whole,  a very  honest  man,  Wegg.” 

So  Mr.  Boffin,  in  his  indulgence,  is  pleased  to  say,” 
Venus  remarked:  though  in  the  beginning  of  this 

dirt,  my  hands  were  not,  for  a few  hours,  quite  as  clean 
as  I could  wish.  But  I hope  I made  early  and  full 
amends.” 

Venus,  you  did,”  said  Mr.  Boffin.  Certainly,  cer- 
tainly, certainly.” 

Venus  inclined  his  head  with  respect  and  gratitude. 
“ Thank  you,  sir.  I am  much  obliged  to  you,  sir,  for  all. 
For  your  good  opinion  now,  for  your  way  of  receiving 
and  encouraging  me  when  I first  put  myself  in  commu- 
nication with  you,  and  for  the  infiuence  since  so  kindly 
brought  to  bear  upon  a certain  lady,  both  by  yourself 
and  by  Mr.  John  Harmon.”  To  whom,  when  thus  mak- 
ing mention  of  him,  he  also  bowed. 

Wegg  followed  the  name  with  sharp  ears,  and  the 
action  with  sharp  eyes,  and  a certain  cringing  air  was 
infusing  itself  into  his  bullying  air,  when  his  attention 
was  reclaimed  by  Venus. 

Everything  else  between  you  and  me,  Mr.  Wegg,” 
said  Venus,*  now  explains  itself,  and  you  can  now 
make  out,  sir,  without  further  words  from  me.  But 
totally  to  prevent  any  unpleasantness  or  mistake  tha.t 
might  arise  on  what  I consider  an  important  point,  to 
be  made  quite  clear  at  the  close  of  our  acquaintance, 
,1  beg  the  leave  of  Mr.  Boffin  and  Mr.  John  Harmon  to 
repeat  an  observation  which  I have  already  had  the 
pleasure  of  bringing  under  your  notice.  You  are  a 
precious  old  rascal ! ” 

‘'You  are  a fool,”  said  Wegg,  with  a snap  of  his 
fingers,  “and  I’d  have  got  rid  of  you  before  now,  if  I 
could  have  struck  out  any  way  of  doing  it.  I have 
thought  it  over,  I can  tell  you.  You  may  go,  and  wel- 
come. You  leave  the  more  for  me.  Because,  you 
know,”  said  Wegg,  dividing  his  next  observation  be- 


CHECKMATE  TO  THE  FRIENDLY  MOVE.  393 


tween  Mr.  Boffin  and  Mr.  Harmon,  '^1  am  worth  my 
price,  and  I mean  to  have  it.  This  getting  off  is  all 
very  well  in  its  way,  and  it  tells  with  such  an  anatomi- 
cal Pump  as  this  one,’’  pointing  out  Mr.  Venus,  ''but  it 
won’t  do  with  a Man.  I am  here  to  be  bought  off,  and  I 
have  named  my  figure.  Now,  buy  me,  or  leave  me.” 

" I’ll  leave  you,  Wegg,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  laughing,"  as 
fax"  as  I am  concerned.” 

" Bof — fin  !”  replied  Wegg,  turning  upon  him  with  a 
severe  air,  "I  understand  your  new-born  boldness.  I 
see  the  brass  underneath  your  silver  plating.  You  have 
got  your  nose  put  out  of  joint.  Knowing  that  you’ve 
nothing  at  stake,  you  can  afford  to  come  the  independ- 
ent game.  Why,  you’re  just  so  much  smeary  glass  to 
see  through,  you  know  ! But  Mr.  Harmon  is  in  another 
sitiwation.  What  Mr.  Harmon  risks,  is  quite  another 
pair  of  shoes.  Now,  I’ve  heerd  something  lately  about 
this  being  Mr.  Harmon — I make  out  now,  some  hints 
that  I’ve  met  on  that  subject  in  the  newspaper — and  I 
drop  you,  Bof — fin,  as  beneath  my  notice.  I ask  Mr. 
Harmon  whether  he  has  any  idea  of  the  contents  of  this 
present  paper  ? ” 

" It  is  a will  of  my  late  father’s,  of  more  recent  date 
than  the  will  proved  by  Mr.  Boffin  (address  whom  again 
as  you  have  addressed  him  already,  and  I’ll  knock  you 
down),  leaving  the  whole  of  his  property  to  the  Crown,” 
said  Mr.  John  Harmon,  with  as  much  indifference  as 
was  compatible  with  extreme  sternness. 

"Right  you  are!”  cried  Wegg.  "Then,”  screwing 
the  weight  of  his  body  upon  his  wooden  leg,  and  screw- 
ing his  wooden  head  very  much  on  one  side,  and 
screwing  up  one  eye:  "then  I put  the  question  to  you, 
what’s  this  paper  worth?  ” 

" Nothing,”  said  John  Harmon. 

Wegg  had  repeated  the  word  with  a sneer,  and  was 
entering  on  some  sarcastic  retort,  when,  to  his  bound- 
less amazement,  he  found  himself  gripped  by  the  cravat, 
shaken  until  his  teeth  chattered,  shoved  back,  stagger- 
ing, into  a corner  of  the  room,  and  pinned  there. 

" You  scoundrel  !”  said  John  Harmon,  whose  seafar- 
ing hold  was  like  that  of  a vice. 

" You’re  knocking  my  head  against  the  wall,”  urged 
Silas  faintly. 

" I mean  to  knock  your  head  against  the  wall,’'  re- 


394 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


turned  John  Harmon^  suiting  his  action  to  his  words 
with  the  heartiest  good  will ; ^^and  Fd  give  a thousand 
pounds  for  leave  to  knock  your  brains  out.  Listen,  you 
scoundrel,  and  look  at  that  Dutch  bottle.” 

Sloppy  held  it  up  for  his  edification. 

^^That  Dutch  bottle,  scoundrel,  contained  the  latest 
will  of  the  many  wills  made  by  my  unhappy  self -tor- 
menting father.  That  will  gives  everything  absolutely 
to  my  noble  benefactor  and  yours,  Mr.  Boffin,  exclud- 
ing and  reviling  me  and  my  sister  {th^n  already  dead 
of  a broken  heart)  by  name.  That  Dutch  bottle  was 
found  by  my  noble  benefactor  and  yours,  after  he  en- 
tered on  possession  of  the  estate.  That  Dutch  bottle 
distressed  him  beyond  measure,  because,  though  I and 
my  sister  were  both  no  more,  it  cast  a slur  upon  our 
memory  which  he  knew  we  had  done  nothing  in  our 
miserable  youth  to  deserve.  That  Dutch  bottle  there- 
fore, he  buried  in  the  Mound  belonging  to  him,  and 
there  it  lay  while  you,  you  thankless  wretch,  were  prod- 
ding and  poking — often  very  near  it,  I dare  say.  His 
intention  was  that  it  should  never  see  the  light ; but  he 
was  afraid  to  destroy  it  lest  to  destroy  such  a document 
even  with  his  great  generous  motive,  might  be  an 
offence  at  law.  After  the  discovery  was  made  here  who 
I was,  Mr.  Boffin,  still  restless  on  the  subject,  told  me, 
upon  certain  conditions  impossible  for  such  a hound  as 
you  to  appreciate,  the  secret  of  that  Dutch  bottle.  I 
urged  upon  him  the  necessity  of  its  being  dug  up,  and 
the  paper  being  legally  produced  and  established.  The 
first  thing  you  saw  him  do,  and  the  second  thing  has 
been  done  without  your  knowledge.  Consequently,  the 
paper  now  rattling  in  your  hand  as  I shake  you — and 
I should  like  to  shake  the  life  out  of  you — is  worth  less 
than  the  rotten  cork  of  the  Dutch  bottle,  do  you  under- 
stand ?” 

Judging  from  the  fallen  countenance  of  Silas  as  his 
head  wagged  backwards  and  forwards  in  a most  un- 
comfortable manner,  he  did  understand. 

^^Now  scoundrel,”  said  John  Harmon,  taking  another 
sailor-like  turn  on  his  cravat,  and  holding  him  in  his 
corner  at  arm’s  length,  I shall  make  two  more  short 
speeches  to  you,  because  I hope  they  will  torment  you. 
Your  discovery  was  a genuine  discovery  (such  as  it  was), 
for  nobody  had  thought  of  looking  into  that  place. 


CHECKMATE  TO  THE  FRIENDLY  MOVE.  395 


^Neither  did  we  know  you  had  made  it  until  Venus 
spoke  to  Mr.  Boffin,  though  I kept  you  under  good  ob- 
servation from  my  first  appearance  here,  and  though 
Sloppy  has  long  made  it  the  chief  occupation  and  de- 
light of  his  life  to  attend  you  like  your  shadow.  I tell 
you  this,  that  you  may  know  we  knew  enough  of  you 
to  persuade  Mr.  Boffin  to  let  us  lead  you  on,  deluded,  to 
the  last  possible  moment,  in  order  that  your  disap- 
pointment might  be  the  heaviest  possible  disappoint- 
ment. That’s  the  first  short  speech,  do  you  under- 
stand?” 

Here  John  Harmon  assisted  his  comprehension  with 
another  shake. 

Now,  scoundrel,”  he  pursued,  I am  going  to  finish. 
You  supposed  me,  just  now,  to  be  the  possessor  of  my 
father’s  property.  So  I am.  But  through  any  act  of 
my  father’s,  or  by  any  right  I have?  No.  Through  the 
munificence  of  Mr.  Boffin.  The  conditions  that  he  made 
with  me,  before  parting  with  the  secret  of  the  Dutch 
bottle,  were  that  I should  take  the  fortune,  and  that  he 
should  take  his  Mound,  and  no  more.  I owe  everything 
I possess  solely  to  the  disinterestedness,  uprig'htness, 
tenderness,  goodness  (there  are  no  words  to  satisfy  me) 
of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin.  And  when,  knowing  what  I 
knew,  I saw  such  a mud-worm  as  you  presume  to  rise 
in  this  house  against  this  noble  soul,  the  wonder  is,” 
added  John  Harmon,  through  his  clenched  teeth,  and 
with  a very  ugly  turn  indeed  on  Wegg’s  cravat,  '‘'that 
I didn’t  try  to  twist  your  head  off,  and  fling  that  out  of 
window!  So!  That’s  the  last  short  speech,  do  you 
understand?” 

Silas,  released,  put  his  hand  to  his  throat,  cleared  it, 
and  looked  as  if  he  had  a rather  large  fish  bone  in  that 
region.  Simultaneously  with  this  action  on  his  part  in 
his  corner,  a singular,  and  on  the  surface  an  incompre- 
hensible, movement  was  made  by  Mr.  Sloppy:  who  be- 
gan backing  towards  Mr.  Wegg  along  the  wall,  in  the 
manner  of  a porter  or  heaver  who  is  about  to  lift  a sack 
of  flour  or  coals. 

" I am  sorry,  Wegg,”  said  Mr.  Boffin,  in  his  clemency, 
" that  my  old  lady  and  I can’t  have  a better  opinion  of 
you  than  the  bad  one  we  are  forced  to  entertain.  But 
I shouldn’t  like  to  leave  you,  after  all  said  and  done, 
worse  off  in  life  than  I found  you.  Therefore  say  in  a 


396  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

word,  before  we  part,  what  itTl  cost  to  set  you  up  in  an- 
other stall.’’ 

^^And  in  another  place,”  John  Harmon  struck  in. 
^^You  don’t  come  outside  these  windows.” 

^^Mr.  Boffin,”  returned  Wegg,  in  avaricious  humilia- 
tion: ^^when  I first  had  the  honour  of  making  your 
acquaintance,  T had  got  together  a collection  of  bal- 
lads which  was,  I may  say,  above  price. 

Then  they  can’t  be  paid  for,”  said  John  Harmon, 

and  you  had  better  not  try,  my  dear  sir.” 

'^Pardon  me,  Mr.  Boffin,”  resumed  Wegg,  with  a ma- 
lignant glance  in  the  last  speaker’s  direction,  was 
putting  the  case  to  you,  who,  if  my  senses  did  not  de- 
ceive me,  put  the  case  to  me.  I had  a very  choice 
collection  of  ballads,  and  there  was  a new  stock  of  gin- 
gerbread in  the  tin  box.  I say  no  more,  but  would 
rather  leave  it  to  you.” 

^^But  it’s  difficult  to  name  what’s  right,”  said  Mr. 
Boffin  uneasily,  with  his  hand  in  his  pocket,  ‘^and  I 
don’t  want  to  go  beyond  what’s  right,  because  you  really 
have  turned  out  such  a very  bad  fellow.  So  artful  and 
so  ungrateful  you  have  been,  Wegg;  for  when  did  I 
ever  injure  you?” 

There  was  also,”  Mr.  Wegg  went  on  in  a meditative 
manner,  ^^a  errand  connection,  in  which  I was  much 
respected.  But  I would  not  wish  to  be  deemed  covetous, 
and  I would  rather  leave  it  to  you,  Mr.  Boffin.” 

Upon  my  word,  I don’t  know  what  to  put  it  at,”  the 
Golden  Dustman  muttered. 

There  was  likewise,”  resumed  Wegg,  pair  of 
trestles,  for  which  alone  a Irish  person,  who  was  deemed 
a judge  of  trestles,  offered  five-and-six — a sum  I 
would  not  hear  of,  for  I should  have  lost  by  it — and 
there  was  a stool,  a umbrella,  a clothes-horse,  and  a 
tray.  But  I leave  it  to  you,  Mr.  Boffin.” 

The  Golden  Dustman  seeming  to  be  engaged  in  some 
abstruse  calculation,  Mr.  Wegg  assisted  him  with  the 
following  additional  items. 

There,  was  further,  Miss  Elizabeth,  Master  George, 
Aunt  Jane,  and  Uncle  Parker.  Ah  ! When  a man 
thinks  of  the  loss  of  such  patronage  as  that;  when  a 
man  finds  so  fair  a garden  rooted  up  by  pigs;  he  finds 
it  hard  indeed,  without  going  high,  to  work  it  into 
money.  But  I leave  it  wholly  to  you,  sir.” 


CHECKMATE  TO  THE  FRIENDLY  MOVE.  397 

Mr.  Sloppy  still  continued  his  singular,  and  on  the 
urface  his  incomprehensible  movement. 

Leading  on  has  been  mentioned/’  said  Wegg  with 
a melancholy  air,  and  it’s  not  easy  to  say  how  tar  the 
tone  of  my  mind  may  have  been  lowered  by  unwhole- 
some reading  on  the  subject  of  Misers,  when  you  was 
leading  me  and  others  on  to  think  you  one  yourself,  sir. 
All  I can  say  is,  that  I felt  my  tone  of  mind  a lowering 
at  the  time.  And  how  can  a man  put  a price  upon  his 
mind!  There  was  likewise  a hat  just  now.  But  I leave 
the  ole  to  you,  Mr.  Boffin.” 

^^Come!”  said  Mr.  Boffin.  Here’s  a couple  of 
pound  ” 

In  justice  to  myself,  I couldn’t  take  it,  sir.” 

The  words  were  but  out  of  his  mouth  when  John 
Harmon  lifted  his  finger,  and  Sloppy,  who  was  now 
close  to  Wegg,  backed  to  Wegg’s  back,  stooped,  grasped 
his  coat  collar  behind  with  both  hands,  and  deftly 
swung  him  up  like  the  sack  of  flour  or  coals  before 
mentioned.  A countenance  of  special  discontent  and 
amazement  Mr.  Wegg  exhibited  in  this  position,  with 
his  buttons  almost  as  prominently  on  view  as  Sloppy’s 
own,  and  with  his  wooden  leg  in  a highly  unacommo- 
dating  state.  But,  not  for  many  seconds  was  his 
countenance  visible  in  the  room;  for.  Sloppy  lightly 
trotted  out  with  him  and  trotted  down  the  staircase, 
Mr.  Venus  attending  to  open  the  street-door.  Mr. 
Sloppy’s  instructions  had  been  to  deposit  his  burden  in 
the  road;  but  a scavenger’s  cart  happening  to  stand 
unattended  at  the  corner,  with  its  little  ladder  planted 
against  the  wheel,  Mr.  S.  found  it  impossible  to  resist 
the  temptation  of  shooting  Mr.  Silas  Wegg  into  the 
cart’s  contents.  A somewhat  difficult  feat,  achieved 
with  great  dexterity,  and  with  a prodigious  splash. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

WHAT  WAS  CAUGHT  IN  THE  TRAPS  THAT  W^ERE  SET. 

HOW  Bradley  Headstone  had  been  racked  and  riven 
in  his  mind  since  the  quiet  evening  when  by  the 
river-side  he  had  risen,  as  it  were,  out  of  the  ashes  of 


398 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


the  Bargeman,  none  but  he  could  have  told.  Not 
even  he  could  have  told,  for  such  misery  can  only  be 
felt. 

First,  he  had  to  bear  the  combined  weight  of  the 
knowledge  of  what  he  had  done,  of  that  haunting  re- 
proach that  he  might  have  done  it  much  better, 
and  of  the  dread  of  discovery.  This  was  load  enough 
to  crush  him,  and  he  laboured  under  it  day  and  night. 
It  was  as  heavy  on  him  in  his  scanty  sleep,  as  in  his 
red-eyed  waking  hours.  It  bore  him  down  with  a dread 
unchanging  monotony,  in  which  there  was  not  a mo- 
ment’s variety.  The  overweighted  beast  of  burden,  or 
the  overweighted  slave,  can  for  certain  instants  shift 
the  physical  load,  and  find  some  slight  respite  even  in 
enforcing  additional  pain  upon  such  a set  of  muscles  or 
such  a limb.  Not  even  that  poor  mock^ery  of  relief 
could  the  wretched  man  obtain,  under  the  steady  pres- 
sure of  the  infernal  atmosphere  into  which  he  had 
entered. 

Time  went  by,  and  no  visible  suspicion  dogged  him  ; 
time  went  by,  and  in  such  public  accounts  of  the  attack 
as  were  renewed  a#  intervals,  he  began  to  see  Mr.  Light- 
wood  (who  acted  as  lawyer  for  the  injured  man) 
straying  further  from  the  fact,  going  wider  of  the  issue, 
and  evidently  slackening  in  his  zeal.  By  degrees,  a glim- 
mering of  the  cause  of  this  began  to  break  on  Bradley’s 
sight.  Then  came  the  chance  encounter  with  Mr.  Mil- 
vey  at  the  railway  station  (where  he  often  lingered  in 
his  leisure  hours,  as  a place  where  any  fresh  news  of 
his  deed  would  be  circulate'd,  or  any  placard  referring 
to  it  would  be  posted),  and  then  he  saw  in  the  light 
what  he  had  brought  about. 

For  then  he  saw  that  through  his  desperate  attempt 
to  separate  those  two  fpr  ever,  he  had  been  made  the 
means  of  uniting  them.  That  he  had  dipped  his  hands 
m blood,  to  mark  himself  a miserable  fool  and  tool. 
Tiiat  Eugene  Wrayburn,  for  his  wife’s  sake,  set  him 
aside  and  left  him  to  crawl  along  his  blasted  course. 
He  thought  of  Fate,  or  Providence,  or  be  the  directing 
Power  what  it  might,  as  having  put  a fraud  upon  him — 
overreached  him — and  in  his  impotent  mad  rage  bit, 
and  lore,  and  had  his  fit. 

New  assurance  of  the  truth  came  upon  him  in  the 
next  few  following  days,  when  it  was  put  forth  how 


CAUGHT  IN  THE  TRAPS  THAT  WERE  SET.  399 


the  wounded  man  had  been  married  on  his  bed,  and  to 
whom,  and  how,  though  always  in  a dangerous  con- 
dition, he  was  a shade  better.  Bradley  would  far 
rather  have  been  seized  for  his  murder,  than  he  would 
have  read  that  passage,  knowing  himself  spared,  and 
knowing  why. 

But,  not  to  be  still  further  defrauded  and  over- 
reached— which  he  would  be,  if  implicated  by  Rider- 
hood,  and  punished  by  the  law  for  his  abject  failure, 
as  though  it  had  been  a success — he  kept  close  in  his 
school  during  the  day,  ventured  out  warily  at  night, 
and  went  no  more  to  the  railway  station.  He  ex- 
amined the  advertisements  in  the  newspapers  for  any 
sign  that  Riderhood  acted  on  his  hinted  threat  of  so 
summoning  him  to  renew  their  acquaintance,  but  found 
none.  Having  paid  him  handsomely  for  the  support 
and  accommodation  he  had  had  at  the  Lock-house, 
and  kifowing  him  to  be  a very  ignorant  man  who 
could  not  write,  he  began  to  doubt  whether  he  was  to 
be  feared  at  all,  or  whether  they  need  ever  meet 
again. 

All  this  time,  kis  mind  was  never  off  the  rack,  and 
his  raging  sense  of  having  been  made  to  fling  him- 
self across  the  chasm  which  divided  those  two,  and 
bridge  it  over  far  their  coming  together,  never  cooled 
down.  This  horrible  condition  brought  on  other  fits. 
He  could  not  have  said  how  many,  or  when;  but  he 
saw  in  the  faces  of  his  pupils  that  they  had  seen  him 
in  that  state,  and  that  they  were  possessed  by  a dread 
of  his  relapsing. 

One  winter  day  when  a slight  fall  of  snow  was 
feathering  the  sills  and  frames  of  the  schoolroom 
windows,  he  stood  at  his  black  board,  crayon  in 
hand,  about  to  commence  with  a class;  when,  reading 
in  the  countenances  of  those  boys  that  there  was  some- 
thing wrong,  and  that  they  seemed  in  alarm  for  him, 
he  turned  his  eyes  to  the  door  towards  whmh  they 
faced.  He  then  saw  a slouching  man  of  forbidding 
appearance  standing  in  the  midst  of  the  school,  with 
a bundle  under  his  arm;  and  saw  that  it  was  Rider- 
hood. 

He  sat  down  on  a stool  which  one  of  his  boys  put 
for  him,  and  he  had  a passing  knowledge  that  he  was 
in  danger  of  falling,  and  that  his  face  was  becoming 


400 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


distorted.  But,  the  fit  went  off  for  that  time,  and  he 
wiped  his  mouth,  and  stood  up  again. 

• Beg  your  pardon,  governor  ! By  your  leave  ! ” said 
Riderhood,  knuckling  his  forehead,  with  a chuckle  and 
a leer.  What  place  may  this  be 

This  is  a school.” 

Where  young  folks  learns  wot’s  right?”  said 
Riderhood,  gravely  nodding.  Beg  your  pardon  ! 
governor ! By  your  leave ! But  who  teaches  this 
school  ? ” 

I do.” 

^WouTe  the  master,  are  you,  learned  governor  ?” 

Yes.  I am  the  master.” 

^^And  a lovely  thing  it  must  be,”  said  Riderhood, 

fur  to  learn  young  folks  \vot’s  right,  and  fur  to  know 
wot  they  know  wot  you  do  it.  Beg  your  pardon,  learned 
governor!  By  your  leave! — That  there  black*  board  ; 
wot’sitfor?” 

It  is  for  drawing  on,  or  writing  on.” 

Is  it,  though!”  said  Riderhood.  /^Who’d  have 
thought  it,  from  the  looks  on  it!  Would  you  be  so  kind 
as  to  write  your  name  upon  it,  learned  governor?”  (In 
a wheedling  tone. ) 

Bradley  hesitated  for  a moment ; but  placed  his 
usual  signature,  enlarged,  upon  the  hoard. 

I ain’t  a learned  character  myself,”  said  Rider- 
hood,'  surveying  the  class,  but  I do  admire  learn- 
ing in  others.  I should  dearly  like  to  hear  these 
here  young  folks  read  that  there  name  off  from  the 
writing.” 

The  arms  of  the  class  went  up.  At  the  ihiserable 
master’s  nod,  the 'shrill  chorus  arose:  '^Bradley  Head- 
stone ! ” 

''No?”  cried  Riderhood.  "You  don’t  mean  it? 
Headstone ! Why,  that’s  in  a churchyard.  Hooroar 
for  another  turn  ! ” 

Another  tossing  of  arms,  another  nod,  and  another 
shrill  chorus  : "Bradley  Headstone  !” 

"I’ve  got  it  now!”  said  Riderhood,  after  attentively 
listening  and  internally  repeating  Bradley.  I see. 
Chris’en  name,  Bradley,  sim’lar  to  Roger,  which  is  my 
own.  Eh  ? Fam’ly  name,  Headstone,  sim’lar  to  Rider- 
hood which  is  my  own.  Eh  ? ” 

Shrill  chorus.  " Yes!” 


CAUGHT  IN  THE  TRAPS  THAT  WERE  SET.  401 


Might  you  be  acquainted,  learned  governor,’’  said 
Riderhood,  with  a person  of  about  your  own  heighth 
and  breadth,  and  wot  ’ud  pull  down  in  a scale  about 
your  own  weight,  answering  to  a name  sounding  sum- 
mat  like  T’otherest  ? ” 

With  a desperation  in  him  that  made  him  perfectly 
quiet,  though  his  jaw  was  heavily  squared ; with  his 
eyes  upon  Riderhood;  and  with  traces  of  quickened 
breathing  in  his  nostrils;  the  schoolmaster  replied  in  a 
suppressed  voice,  after  a pause:  I think  I know  the 
man  you  mean.” 

I thought  you  knowed  the  man  I mean,  learned 
governor.  I want  the  man.” 

With  a half  glance  around  him  at  his  pupils,  Bradley 
returned:  Do  you  suppose  he  is.here?” 

Begging  your  pardon,  learned  governor,  and  by  your 
leave,”  said  Riderhood,  with  a laugh,  ^^how  could  I sup- 
pose he’s  here,  when  there’s  nobody  here  but  you,  and 
me,  and  these  young  lambs  wot  you’re  a learning 
on  ? But  he  is  most  excellent  company,  that  man, 
and  I want  him  to  come  and  see  me  at  my  Lock,  up  the 
river.” 

I’ll  tell  him  so.” 

^^D’ye  think  he’ll  come?  ” asked  Riderhood. 

I am  sure  he  will.” 

Having  got  your  word  for  him,”  said  Riderhood, 
shall  count  upon  him.  P’raps  you’d  so  fur  obleege  me, 
learned  governor,  as  tell  him  that  if  he  don’t  come  pre- 
cious soon.  I’ll  look  him  up.” 

He  shall  know  it.” 

Thankee.  As  I says  awhile  ago,”  pursued  Rider- 
hood, changing  his  hoarse  tone  and  leering  round  upon 
the  class  again,  though  not  a learned  character  my 
own  self,  I do  admire  learning  in  others,  to  be  sure! 
Being  here,  and  having  met  with  your  kind  attention. 
Master,  might  I,  afore  I go,  ask  a question  of  these  here 
young  lambs  of  yourn  ? ” 

If  it  is  in  the  way  of  school,”  said  Bradley,  always 
sustaining  his  dark  look  at  the  other,  and  speaking  in 
his  suppressed  voice,  you  may.” 

‘^Oh  ! It’s  in  the  way  of  school  !”  cried  Riderhood. 

I’ll  pound  it.  Master,  to  be  in  the  way  of  school.  Wot’s 
the  diwisions  of  water,  my  lambs?  Wot  sorts  of  water 
is  there  on  the  land?  ” 

VOL.  II.  2G 


402 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Shrill  chorus : ^^Seas,  rivers,  lakes,  and  ponds!” 

'^Seas,  rivers,  lakes,  and  ponds,”  said  Riderhood. 

They’ve  got  all  the  lot.  Master!  Blowed  if  I shouldn’t 
have  left  out  lakes,  never  having  clapped  eyes  upon 
one,  to  my  knowledge.  Seas,  rivers,  lakes,  and  ponds. 
Wot  is  it,  lambs,  as  they  ketches  in  seas,  rivers,  lakes 
and  ponds  ? ” 

Shrill  chorus  (with  some  contempt  for  the  ease  of  the 
question) : Fish  ! ” 

Good  agin!”  said  Riderhood.  But  wot  else  is  it, 
my  lambs,  as  they  sometimes  ketches  in  rivers  ? ” 

Chorus  at  a loss.  One  shrill  voice:  ‘'Weed!  ” 

“Good  agin!”  cried  Riderhood.  “But  it  aint  weed 
neither.  You’ll  never  guess,  my  dears.  Wot  is  it  be- 
sides fish,  as  they  sometimes  ketches  in  rivers?  Well! 
I’ll  tell  you.  It’s  suits  o’  clothes.” 

Bradley’s  face  changed. 

“Leastways,  lambs,”  said  Riderhood,  observing  him 
out  of  the  corners  of  his  eyes,  “that’s  wot  I my  own 
self  sometimes  ketches  in  rivers.  For  strike  me  blind, 
my  lambs,  if  I didn’t  ketch  in  a river  the  wery  bun- 
dle under  my  arm  ! ” 

The  class  looked  at  the  master,  as  if  appealing  from 
the  irregular  entrapment  of  this  mode  of  examination. 
The  master  looked  at  the  examiner  as  if  he  would 
have  torn  him  to  pieces. 

“ I ask  your  pardon,  learned  governor,”  said  Rider- 
hood, smearing  his  sleeve  across  his  mouth  as . he 
laughed  with  a relish,  “ tain’t  fair  to  the  lambs,  I know. 
It  wos  a bit  of  fun  of  mine.  But,  upon  my  soul,  I 
drawed  this  here  bundle  out  of  a river!  It’s  a Barge- 
man’s suit  of  clothes.  You  see  it  had  been  sunk  there 
by  the  man  as  wore  it,  and  I got  it  up.” 

“ How  do  you  know  it  was  sunk  by  the  man  who  wore 
it?”  asked  Bradley. 

“’Cause  I see  him  do  it,”  said  Riderhood. 

They  looked  at  each  other.  Bradley  slowly  with- 
drawing his  eyes,  turned  his  face  to  the  black  board 
and  slowly  wiped  his  name  out. 

“ Aheap  of  thanks.  Master,”  said  Riderhood,  “for  be- 
stowing so  much  of  your  time,  and  of  the  lambses’  time, 
upon  a man  as  hasn’t  got  no  other  recommendation  to 
you  than  being  a honest  man.  Wishing  to  see  at 
my  Lock  up  the  river  the  person  as  we’ve  spoke  of, 


CAUGHT  IN  THE  TRAPS  THAT  WERE  SET.  403 


and  as  you’ve  answered  for,  I takes  my  leave  of  the 
lambs  and  of  their  learned  governor  both.” 

With  those  words,  he  slouched  out  of  the  school,  leav- 
ing the  master  to  get  through  his  weary  work  as  he 
might,  and  leaving  the  whispering  pupils  to  observe  the 
master’s  face  until  he  fell  into  the  fit  which  had  been 
long  impending. 

The  next  day  but  one  was  Saturday,  and  a holiday. 
Bradley  rose  early,  and  set  out  on  foot  for  Plash  water 
Weir-Mill  Lock.  He  rose  so  early  that  it  was  not  yet 
light  when  he  began  his  journey.  Before  extinguishing 
the  candle  by  which  he  had  dressed  liimself,  he  made  a 
little  parcel  of  his  decent  silver  watch  and  its  decent 
guard,  and  wrote  inside  the  paper:  ^'Kindly  take  care 
of  these  for  me.”  He  then  addressed  the  parcel  to  Miss 
Peecher,  and  left  it  on  the  most  protected  corner  of  the 
little  seat  in  her  little  porch. 

It  was  a cold,  hard,  easterly  morning  when  he  latched 
the  garden-gate  and  turned  away.  The  light  snow-fall 
which  had  feathered  his  schoolroom  windows  on  the 
Thursday,  still  lingered  in  the  air,  and  was  falling  white, 
while  the  wind  blew  black.  The  tardy  day  did  not  ap- 
pear until  he  had  been  on  foot  two  hours,  and  had  tra- 
versed a great  part  of  London  from  east  to  west.  Such 
breakfast  as  he  had,  he  took  at  the  comfortless  public- 
house  where  he  had  parted  from  Riderhood  on  the  oc- 
casion of  their  night  walk.  He  took  it,  standing  at  the 
littered  bar,  and  looked  loweringly  at  a man  who  stood 
where  Riderhood  had  stood  that  early  morning. 

He  outwalked'the  short  day,  and  was  on  the  towing- 
path  by  the  river,  somewhat  footsore,  when  the  night 
closed  in.  Still  two  or  three  miles  short  of  the  Lock, 
he  slackened  his  pace  then,  but  went  steadily  on. 
The  ground  was  now  covered  with  snow,  though  thinly, 
and  there  were  floating  lumps  of  ice  in  the  more  ex- 
posed parts  of  the  river,  and  broken  sheets  of  ice  under 
the  shelter  of  the  banks.  He  took  heed  of  nothing  but 
the  ice,  the  snow,  and  the  distance,  until  he  saw  a light 
ahead,  which  he  knew  gleamed  from  the  Lock-house 
window.  It  arrested  his  steps,  and  he  looked  all  around. 
The  ice,  and  the  snow,  and  he,  and  the  one  light,  had 
absolute  possession  of  the  dreary  s^cene.  In  the  distance 
before  him,  lay  the  place  where  he  had  struck  the  worse 
than  useless  blows  that  mocked  him  with  Lizzie’s  pres- 


404  \ OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

ence  there  as  Eugene’s  wife.  In  the  distance  behind  him 
lay  the  place  where  the  children  with  pointing  arms  had 
seemed  to  devote  him  to  the  demons  in  crying  out  his 
name.  Within  there,  where  the  light  was,  was  the  man 
who  as  to  both  distances  could  give  him  up  to  ruin.  To 
these  limits  had  his  world  shrunk. 

He  mended  his  pace,  keeping  his  eyes  upon  the  light 
with  a strange  intensity,  as  if  he  were  taking  aim  at  it. 
When  he  approached  it  so  nearly  as  that  it  parted  into 
rays,  they  seemed  to  fasten  themselves  to  him,  and 
draw  him  on.  When  he  struck  the  door  with  his  hand, 
his  foot  followed  s^  quickly  on  his  hand,  that  he  was  in 
the  room  before  he  was  bidden  to  enter. 

The  light  was  the  joint  product  of  a fire  and  a candle. 
Between  the  two,  with  his  feet  on  the  iron  fender,  sat 
Riderhood,  pipe  in  mouth. 

He  looked  up  with  a surly  nod  when  his  visitor  came 
in.  His  visitor  looked  down  with  a surly  nod.  His 
outer  clothing  removed,  the  visitor  then  took  a seat  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  fire. 

‘^Not  a smoker,  I think!”  said  Riderhood,  pushing  a 
bottle  to  him  across  the  table. 

They  both  lapsed  into  silence,  with  their  eyes  upon 
the  fire. 

'Won  don’t  need  to  be  told  I am  here,”  said  Bradley 
at  length.  Who  is  to  begin?” 

“Vll  begin,”  said  Riderhood,  ^^when  I’ve  smoked  this 
here  pipe  out.” 

He  finished  it  with  great  deliberation,  knocked  out 
the  ashes  oil  the  hob,  and  put  it  by. 

'Tl]  begin,”  he  then  repeated,  '‘  Bradley  Headstone, 
Master,  if  you  wish  it.” 

" VV'ish  it!  I wish  to  know  wdiat  you  want  with  me.” 

" And  so  you  shall.”  Riderhood  had  looked  hard  at  his 
hands  and  pockets,  apparently  as  a precautionary  meas- 
ure lest  he  should  have  any  weapon  about  him.  But,  he 
now  leaned  forward,  turning  the  collar  of  his  waistcoat 
with  an  inquisitive  finger,  and  asked,  " Why,  where’s 
your  watch?” 

" I left  it  behind.” 

" I want  it.  But  it  can  be  fetched.  I’ve  took  a fancy 
to  it.” 

Bradley  answered  with  a contemptuous  laugh. 


CAUGHT  IN  THE  TRAPS  THAT  WERE  SET.  405 


want  it/’ repeated  Riderhood^  in  a louder  voice^ 
and  I mean  to  have  it.” 

That  is  what  you  want  of  me,  is  it?” 

No,”  said  Ri^erhood,  still  louder;  'Gt’s  on’y  part  of 
what  I want  of  you.  I want  money  of  you!” 
'^Anything  else?” 

Everything  else!  ” roared  Riderhood,  in  a very  loud 
and  furious  way.  Answer  me  like  that,  and  I won’t 
talk  to  you  at  all.” 

Bradley  looked  at  him. 

Don’t  so  much  as  look  at  me  like  that,  or  I won’t 
talk  to  you  at  all,”  vociferated  Riderhood.  But,  in- 
stead of  talking.  I’ll  bring  my  hand  down  upon  you 
with  all  its  weight,”  heavily  smiting  the  table  with 
great  force,  ^^and  smash  you!” 

Go  on,”  said  Bradley,  after  moistening  his  lips. 
^^Oh!  I’m  a-going  on.  Don’t  you  fear  but  I’ll  go  on 
full  fast  enough  for  you,  and  far  enough  for  you,  with- 
out your  telling.  Look  here,  Bradley  Headstone,  Mas- 
ter. You  might  have  split  the  T’other  Governor  to 
chips  and  wedges,  without  my  caring,  except  that  I 
might  have  come  upon  you  for  a glass  or  so  now  and 
then.  Else  why  have  to  do  with  you  at  all?  But  when 
you  copied  my  clothes,  and  when  you  copied  my  neck- 
liankercher,and  when  you  shook  blood  upon  me  after  you 
had  done  the  trick,  you  did  wot  I’ll  be  paid  for  and  paid 
heavy  for.  If  it  come  to  be  throw’d  upon  you,  you  was 
to  be  ready  to  throw  it  upon  me,  was  you?  Where  else 
but  in  Plash  water  Weir-Mill  Lock  was  there  a man, 
dressed  according  as  described?  Where  else  but  in 
Plash  water- Weir  Mill  Lock  was  there  a man  as  had  had 
words  with  him  coming  through  in  his  boat?  Look  at 
the  Lock-keeper  in  Plashwater  Weir  Mill  Lock,  in  them 
same  answering  clothes  and  with  that  same  answer- 
ing red  neck-hankercher,  and  see  whether  his  clothes 
happens  to  be  bloody  or  not.  Yes,  they  do  happen  to  be 
bloody.  Ah,  you  sly  devil!  ” 

Bradley,  very  white,  sat  looking  at  him  in  silence. 
''But  two  could  play  at  your  game,”  said  Riderhood, 
snapping  his  fingers  at  him  half-a-dozen  times,  "and  I 
played  it  long  ago;  long  afore  you  tried  your  clumsy 
hand  at  it;  in  days  when  you  hadn’t  begun  croaking  your 
lectors  or  what  not  in  your  school.  I know  to  a figure 
how  you  done  it.  Where  you  stole  away,  I could  steal 


406 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


away  arter  you,  and  do  it  knowinger  than  you.  I know 
how  you  come  away  from  London  in  your  own  clothes,- 
and  where  you  changed  your  clothes,  and  hid  your 
clothes.  I see  you  with  my  own  eje^  take  your  own 
clothes  from  their  hiding-place  among  them  felled  trees, 
and  take  a dip  in  the  river  to  account  for  your  dressing 
yourself,  to  any  one  as  might  come  by.  I see  you  rise 
up  Bradley  Headstone,  Master,  where  you  sat  down 
Bargeman.  I see  you  pitch  your  Bargeman’s  bundle 
into  the  river.  I hooked  your  Bargeman’s  bundle  out 
of  the  river.  I’ve  got  your  Bargeman’s  clothes,  tore  this 
way  and  that  way  with  the  scuffle,  stained  green  with 
the  grass,  and  spattered  all  over  with  what^bust  from 
the  blows.  I’ve  got  them,  and  I’ve  got  you.  I don’t  care 
a curse  for  the  T’other  Governor,  alive  or  dead,  but  I 
care  a many  curses  for  my  own  self.  And  as  you  laid 
your  plots  agin  me,  and  was  a sly  devil  agin  me.  I’ll  be 
paid  for  it — I’ll  be  paid  for  it — I’ll  be  paid  for  it — till  I’ve 
drained  you  dry!” 

Bradley  looked  at  the  fire,  with  a working  face,  and 
was  silent  for  awhile.  At  last  he  said,  with  what 
seemed  an  inconsistent  composure  of  voice  and  feature: 

You  can’t  get  blood  out  of  a stone,  Riderhood.” 

‘^^I  can  get  money  out  of  a schoolmaster,  though.” 

You  can’t  get  out  of  me  what  is  not  in  me.  You  can’t 
wrest  from  me  what  I have  not  got.  Mine  is  but  a poor 
calling.  You  have  had  more  than  two  guineas  from 
me  already.  Do  you  know  how  long  it  has  taken  me 
(allowing  for  a long  and  arduous  training)  to  earn  such 
a sum  ? ” 

I don’t  know,  nor  I don’t  care.  Yours  is  a ’spectable 
calling.  To  save  your  ’spectability,  it’s  worth  your  while 
to  pawn  every  article  of  clothes  you’ve  got,  sell  every 
stick  in  your  house,  and  beg  and  borrow  every  penny 
you  can  get  trusted  with.  When  you’ve  done  that  and 
handed  over.  I’ll  leave  you.  Not  afore.” 

How  do  you  mean,  you’ll  leave  me  ? ” 

I mean  as  I’ll  keep  you  company,  wherever  you  go, 
when  you  go  away  from  here.  Let  the  Lock  take 
care  of  itself.  I’ll  take  care  of  you,  once  I’ve  got 
you.” 

Bradley  again  looked  at  the  fire.  Eyeing  him  aside, 
Riderhood  took  up  his  pipe,  refilled  it,  lighted  it,  and 
sat  smoking.  Bradley  leaned  his  elbows  on  his  knees, 


CAUGHT  IN  THE  TRAPS  THAT  WERE  SET.  407 


and  his  head  upon  his  hands,  and  looked  at  the  fire 
with  a most  intent  abstraction. 

'♦Riderhood,”  he  said,  raising  himself  in  his  chair, 
after  a long  silence,  and  drawing  out  his  purse  and  put- 
ting it  on  the  table.  Say  I part  with  this,  which  is  all 
the  money  I have  ; say  I let  you  have  my  watch  ; say 
that  every  quarter,  when  I draw  my  salary,  I pay  you 
a certain  portion  of  it.” 

Say  nothink  of  the  sort,”  retorted  Riderhood,  shak- 
ing his  head  as  he  smoked.  ^WouVe  got  away  once, 
and  I won’t  run  the  chance  agin.  Pve  had  trouble 
enough  to  find  you,  and  shouldn’t  have  found  you,  if  I 
hadn’t  seen  you  slipping  along  the  street  over  night,  and 
watched  you  till  you  was  safe  housed.  I’ll  have  one 
settlement  with  you  for  good  and  all.” 

, Riderhood,  I am  a man  who  has  lived  a retired  life. 
I have  no  resources  beyond  myself.  I have  absolutely 
no  friends.” 

That’s  a lie,”  said  Riderhood.  ^Wou’ve  got  one 
friend  as  I knows  of  ; one  as  is  good  for  a Savings-Bank 
book,  or  I’m  a blue  monkey  ! ” 

Bradley’s  face  darkened,  and  his  hand  slowly  closed 
on  the  purse  aird  drew  it  back,  as  he  sat  listening  for 
what  the  other  should  go  on  to  say. 

I went  into  the  wrong  shop,  fust,  last  Thursday,” 
said  Riderhood.  Found  myself  among  the  young 
ladies,  by  George!  Over  the  young  ladies  I see  a Missis. 
That  Missis  is  sweet  enough  upon  you,  Master,  to  sell  her 
self  up,  slap,  to  get  you  out  of  trouble.  Make  her  do  it. 

Bradley  stared  at  him  so  very  suddenly  that  Rider- 
hood, not  quite  knowing  how  to  take  it,  affected  to  be 
occupied  with  the  encircling  smoke  from  his  pipe  ; fan- 
ning it  away  with  his  hand,  and  blowing  it  off. 

'‘You  spoke  to  the  mistress,  did  you  ?”  inquired  Brad- 
ley, with  that  former  composure  of  voice  and  feature 
that  seemed  inconsistent,  and  with  averted  eyes. 

"Poof  I Yes,”  said  Riderhood,  withdrawing  his  at- 
tention from  the  smoke.  " I spoke  to  her.  I didn’t  say 
much  to  her.  She  was  put  in  a fiuster  by  my  dropping 
in  among  the  young  ladies  (I  never  did  set  up  for  a lady’s 
man),  and  she  took  mef  into  her  parlour  to  hope  as  there 
was  nothink  wrong.  I tells  her,  ' Oh  no,  nothink  wrong.. 
The  master’s  my  wery  good  friend.’  But  I see  how  the 
land  laid,  and  that  she  was  comfortable  off.” 


408 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


Bradley  put  the  purse  in  his  pocket,  grasped  his  left 
wrist  with  his  right  hand,  and  sat  rigidly  contemplating 
the  fire.  ^ 

She  couldn’t  live  more  handy  to  you  than  she  does,” 
said  Riderhood,  and  when  I goes  home  with  you  (as 
of  course  I am  a-going),  I recommend  you  to  clean  her 
out  without  loss  of  time.  You  can  marry  her,  arter  you 
and  me  have  come  to  a settlement.  She’s  nice-looking, 
and  I know  you  can’t  be  keeping  company  with  no  one 
else,  having  been  so  lately  disappinted  in  another 
quarter.” 

Not  one  other  word  did  Bradley  utter  all  that  night. 
Not  once  did  he  change  his  attitude,  or  loosen  his  hold 
upon  his  wrist.  Rigid  before  the  fire,  as  if  it  were  a 
charmed  flame  that  was  turning  him  old,  he  sat,  with 
the  dark  lines  deepening  in  his  face,  its  stare  becoming 
more  and  more  haggard,  its  surface  turning  whiter  and 
wdiiter  as  if  it  were  being  overspread  with  ashes,  and 
the  very  texture  and  colour  of  his  hair  degenerating. 

Not  until  the  late  daylight  made  the  window  trans- 
parent did  this  decaying  statue  move*.  Then  it  slowly 
arose,  and  sat  in  the  window  looking  out. 

Riderhood  had  kept  his  chair  all  night.  In  the  earlier 
part  of  the  night  he  had  muttered  twice  or  thrice  that  it 
was  bitter  cold  ; or  that  the  Are  burnt  fast,  when  he  got 
up  to  mend  it  ; but,  as  he  could  elicit  from  his  companion 
neither  sound  nor  movement,  he  had  afterwards  held  his 
peace.  He  was  making  some  disorderly  preparations 
for  coffee,  when  Bradley  came  from  the  window  and  put 
on  his  outer  coat  and  hat. 

Hadn’t  us  better  have  a bit  o’  breakfast  afore  we 
start? ’’said  Riderhood.  ^^It  ain’t  good  to  freeze  a 
empty  stomach.  Master.” 

Without  a sign  to  show  that  he  heard,  Bradley  walked 
out  of  the  Lock-house.  Catching  up  from  the  table  a 
piece  of  bread,  and  taking  his  Bargeman’s  bundle  under 
his  arm,  Riderhood  immediately  followed  him.  Bradley 
turned  towards  London.  Riderhood  caught  him  up,  and 
walked  at  his  side. 

The  two  men  trudged  on,  side  by  side,  in  silence,  full 
three  miles.  Suddenly,  Bradley  Turned  to  retrace  his 
course.  Instantly  Riderhood  turned  likewise,  and  they 
went  back  side  by  side. 

Bradley  re-entered  the  Lock-house.  So  did  Rider- 


CAUGHT  m THE  TRAPS  THAT  WERE  SET.  409 

hood.  Bradley  sat  down  in  the  window.  Riderhood 
warmed  himself  at  the  fire.  After  an  hour  or  more, 
Bradley  abruptly  got  up  again,  and  again  went  out,  but 
this  time  turned  the  other  way.  Riderhood  was  close 
after  him,  caught  him  up  in  a few  paces,  and  walked  at 
his  side. 

This  time,  as  before,  when  he  found  his  attendant  not 
to  be  shaken  off,  Bradley  suddenly  turned  back.  This 
time,  as  before,  Riderhood  turned  back  along  with  him. 
But,  not  this  time,  as  before,  did  they  go  into  the  Lock- 
house,  for  Bradley  came  to  a stand  on  the  snow-covered 
turf  by  the  Lock,  looking  up  the  river  and  down  the 
river.  Navigation  was  impeded  by  the  frost,  and  the 
scene  was  a mere  white  and  yellow  desert. 

Come,  come.  Master,”  urged  Riderhood  at  his  side. 

This  is  a dry  game.  And  where’s  the  good  of  it  ? You 
can’t  get  rid  of  me,  except  by  coming  to  a settlement. 
I am  a-going  along  with  you  wherever  you  go.” 

Without  a word  of  reply,  Bradley  passed  quickly 
from  him  over  the  wooden  bridge  on  the  Lock-gates. 

Why,  there’s  even  less  sense  in  this  move  than  t’other,” 
said  Riderhood,  following.  The  Weir’s  there,  and 
you’ll  have  to  come  back,  you  know.” 

Without  taking  the  least  notice,  Bradley  leaned  his 
body  against  a post,  in  a resting  attitude,  and  there 
rested,  with  his  eyes  cast  down.  ''Being brought  here,” 
said  Riderhood,  gruffly,  "I’ll  turn  it  to  some  use  by  chang- 
ing my  gates.”  With  a rattle  and  a rush  of  water,  he 
then  swung-to  the  Lock-gates  that  were  standing  open 
before  opening  the  others.  So  both  sets  of  gates  were, 
for  the  moment,  closed. 

"You’d  better  by  far  be  reasonable,  Bradley  Head- 
stone, Master,”  said  Riderhood,  passing  4iim,  " or  I’ll 
drain  you  all  the*dryer  for  it  when  we  do  settle. — Ah  ! 
Would  you?” 

Bradley  had  caught  him  round  the  body.  He  seemed 
to  be  girdled  with  an  iron  ring.  They  were  on  the  brink 
of  the  Lock,  about  midway  between  the  two  sets  of 
gates. 

"Let  go!”  said  Riderhood,  "or  I’ll  get  my  knife  out 
and  slash  you  wherever  I can  cut  you.  Let  go!  ” 

Bradley  was  drawing  to  the  Lock-edge.  Riderhood 
was  drawing  away  from  it.  It  was  a strong  grapple, 
and  a fierce  struggle,  arm  and  leg.  Bradley  got  him 


410 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


round,  with  his  back  to  the  Lock,  and  still  worked  him 
backward. 

‘'Let  go!”  said  Riderhood.  "Stop!  What  are  you 
trying  at?  You  can*t  dtown  Me.  Ain’t  I told  you  that 
the  man  as  has  come  through  drowning  can  never  be 
drowned  ? I can’t  be  drowned.” 

" I can  be!  ” returned  Bradley,  in  a desperate,  clenched 
voice.  " I am  resolved  to  be.  I’ll  hold  you  living,  and 
I’ll  hold  you  dead.  Come  down  ! ” 

Riderhood  went  over  into  the  smooth  pit,  backwards, 
and  Bradley  Headstone  upon  him.  When  the  two  were 
found,  lying  under  the  ooze  and  scum  behind  one  of  the 
rotting  gates,  Riderhood’s  hold  had  relaxed,  probably 
in  falling,  and  his  eyes  were  staring  upward.  But,  he 
was  girdled  still  with  Bradley’s  iron  ring,  and  the  rivets 
of  the  iron  ring  held  tight. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

PERSONS  AND  THINGS  IN  GENERAL. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  John  Harmon’s  first  delightful  occu- 
pation was  to  set  all  matters  right  that  had 
strayed  in  any  way  wrong,  or  that  might,  could,  would, 
or  should  have  strayed  in  any  way  wrong,  while  their 
name  was  in  abeyance.  In  tracing  out  affairs  for  which 
John’s  fictitious  "death  was  to  be  considered  in  any  way 
responsible,  they  used  a very  broad  and  free  construc- 
tion; regarding,  for  instance,  the  doll’s  dressmaker  as 
having  a claim  on  their  protection,  because  of  her  as- 
sociation with  Mrs.  Eugene  Wrayburn,  and  because  of 
Mrs.  Eugene’s  old  association,  in  her  turn,  with  the 
dark  side  of  the  story.  It  followed  that  the  old  man 
Riah,  as  a good  and  serviceable  friend  to  both,  was  not  to 
be  disclaimed.  Nor  even  Mr.  Inspector,  as  having  been 
trepanned  into  an  industrious  hunt  on  a false  scent.  It 
may  be  remarked,  in  connection  with  that  worthy  officer, 
that  a rumour  shortly  afterwards  pervaded  the  Force, 
to  the  effect  that  he  had  confided  to  Miss  Abbey  Potter- 
son,  over  a jug  of  mellow  flip  in  the  bar  of  the  Six 
Jolly  Fellowship  Porters,  that  he  "didn’t  stand  to  lose 


PERSONS  AND  THINGS  IN  GENERAL.  411 


a farthing  ” through  Mr.  Harmon’s  coming  to  life,  but 
was  quite  as  well  satisfied  as  if  that  gentleman  had 
been  barbarously  murdered,  and  he  (Mr.  Inspector)  had 
pocketed  the  government  reward. 

In  all  their  arrangements  of  such  nature  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  John  Harmon  derived  much  assistance  from  their 
eminent  solicitor,  Mr.  Mortimer  Lightwood ; who  laid 
about  him  professionally  with  such  unwonted  dispatch 
and  intention,  that  a piece  of  work  was  vigorously  pur- 
sued as  soon  as  cut  out ; whereby  young  Blight  was 
acted  on  as  by  that  Transatlantic  dram  which  is  poet- 
ically named  An  Eye-Opener,  and  found  himself  staring 
at  real  clients  instead  of  out  of  window.  The  accessi- 
bility of  Riah  proving  very  useful  as  to  a few  hints 
towards  the  disentanglement  of  Eugene’s  affairs, 
Lightwood  applied  himself  with  infinite  zest  to  attack- 
ing and  harassing  Mr.  Fledgeby : who,  discovering 
himself  in  danger  of  being  blown  into  the  air  by  certain 
explosive  transactions  in  which  he  had  been  engaged, 
and  having  been  sufficiently  flayed  under  his  beating, 
came  to  a parley  and  asked  for  quarter.  The  harmless 
Twemlow  profited  by  the  conditions  entered  into, 
though  he  little  thought  it.  Mr.  Riah  unaccountably 
melted ; waited  in  person  on  him  over  the  stable-yard 
in  Duke  Street,  St.  James’s,  no  longer  ravening,  but 
mild,  to  inform  him  that  payment  of  interest  as  hereto- 
fore, but  henceforth  at  Mr.  Lightwood’s  offices,  would 
appease  his  Jewish  rancour;  and  departed  with  the 
secret  that  Mr.  John  Harmon  had  advanced  the  money 
and  become  the  creditor.  Thus  was  the  sublime  Snigs- 
worth’s  wrath  averted,  and  thus  did  he  snort  no  larger 
an  amount  of  moral  grandeur  at  the  Corinthian  column 
in  the  print  over  the  fire-place  than  was  normally  in  his 
(and  the  British)  constitution. 

Mrs.  Wilfer’s  first  visit  to  the  Mendicant’s  bride  at 
the  new  abode  of  Mendicancy  was  a grand  event.  Pa 
had  been  sent  for  into  the  City  on  the  very  day  of  tak- 
ing possession,  and  had  been  stunned  with  •astonish- 
ment, and  brought  to,  and  led  about  the  house  by  one 
ear,  to  behold  its  various  treasures,  and  had  been  en- 
raptured and  enchanted.  Pa  had  also  been  appointed 
Secretary,  and  had  been  enjoined  to  give  instant  no- 
tice of  resignation  to  Chicksey,  Veneering,  and  Stob- 


413 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


bles,  for  ever  and  ever.  But  Ma  came  later,  and  came, 
as  was  her  due,  in  state. 

The  carriage  was  sent  for  Ma,  who  entered  it  with  a 
hearing  worthy  of  the  occasion,  accompanied,  rather 
than  supported,  by  Miss  Lavinia,  who  altogether  de- 
clined to  recognise  the  maternal  majesty.  Mr.  George 
Sampson  meekly  followed.  He  was  received  in  the 
vehicle,  by  Mrs.  Wilfer,  as  if  admitted  to  the  honour  of 
assisting  at  a funeral  in  the  family,  and  she  then 
issued  the  order  Onward  !*’  to  the  Mendicant’s  menial. 

I wish  to  goodness,  Ma,”  said  Lavvy,  throwing  her- 
self back  among  the  cushions,  with  her  arms  crossed, 
^ Ghat  you’d  loll  a little.” 

'^How!”  repeated  Mrs.  Wilfer.  ^^Loll!” 

^^Yes,  ma.” 

hope,”  said  the  impressive  lady,  am  incapable 
of  it.” 

I am  sure  you  look  so,  ma.  But  why  one  should  go 
out  to  dine  with  one’s  own  daughter  or  sister,  as  if 
one’s  under  petticoat  was  a backboard,  I do  not  under- 
stand.” 

Neither  do  I understand,”  retorted  Mrs.  Wilfer, 
with  deep  scorn,  ^Giow  a young  lady  can  mention  the 
garment  in  the  name  of  which  you  have  indulged.  I 
blush  for  you.” 

Thank  you,  ma,”  said  Lavvy,  yawning,  ‘^hut  I can 
do  it  for  myself,  I am  obliged  to  you,  when  there’s  any 
occasion.” 

Here,  Mr.  Sampson,  with  the  view  of  establishing 
harmony,  which  he  never  under  any  circumstances  suc- 
ceeded in  doing,  said,  with  an  agreeable  smile:  ^Wfter 
all,  you  know,  ma’am,  we  know  it’s  there”  And  imme- 
diately felt  that  he  had  committed  himself. 

We  know  it’s  there!”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer,  glaring. 

‘^Really,  George,”  remotnstrated  Miss  Lavinia, 
must  say  that  I don’t  understand  your  allusions,  and 
that  I think  you  might  be  more  delicate  and  less  per- 
sonal.” 

Go  it!”  cried  Mr.  Sampson,  becoming,  on  the  shortest 
notice,  a prey  to  despair.  Oh  yes!  Go  it.  Miss  Lavi- 
nia Wilfer!  ” 

‘‘What  you  may  mean,  George  Sampson,  by  your 
omnibus-driving  expressions,  I cannot  pretend  to  im- 
agine. “Neither,”  said  Miss  Lavinia,  “Mr.  George 


PERSONS  AND  THINGS  IN  GENERAL.  413 


Sampson,  do  I wish  to  imagine.  It  is  enough  for  me  to 

know  in  my  own  heart  that  I am  not  going  to ’’ 

Having  imprudently  got  into  a sentence  without 
providing  a way  out  of  it,  Miss  Lavinia  was  constrained 
to  close  with  going  to  go  it.”  A weak  conclusion  which, 
however,  derived  some  appearance  of  strength  from 
disdain. 

Oh  yes!  ” cried  Mr.  Sampson,  with  bitterness.  Thus 
it  ever  is.  I never ” 

^Hf  you  mean  to  say,”  Miss  Lavvy  cut  him  short, 
^^that  you  never  brought  up  a young  gazelle,  you  may 
save  yourself  the  trouble,  because  nobody  in  this  car- 
riage supposes  that  you  ever  did.  We  know  you  bet- 
ter.” (As  if  this  were  a home  thrust.) 

Lavinia,”  returned  Mr.  Sampson,  in  a dismal  vein, 
^Hdid  not  mean  to  say  so.  What  I did  mean  to  say 
was,  that  I never  expected  to  retain  my  favoured  place 
in  this  family  after  Fortune  shed  her  beams  upon  it. 
Why  do  you  take  me,”  said  Mr.  Sampson,  ‘^to  the  glit- 
. tering  halls  with  which  I can  never  compete,  and  then 
taunt  me  with  my  moderate  salary?  Is  it  generous? 
Is  it  kind?  ” 

The  stately  lady,  Mrs.  Wilfer,  perceiving  her  oppor- 
tunity of  delivering  a few  remarks  from  the  throne, 
here  took  up  the  altercation. 

Mr.  Sampson,”  she  began,  ‘‘1  cannot  permit  you  to 
misrepresent  the  intentions  of  a child  of  mine.” 

'^Let  him  alone,  ma,”  Miss  Lavvy  interposed  with 
haughtiness.  ^Ht  is  indifferent  to  me  what  he  says  or 
does.” 

'^Nay,  Lavinia,”  quoth  Mrs.  Wilfer,  ''this  touches 
the  blood  of  the  family.  If  Mr.  George  Sampson  at- 
tributes, even  to  my  youngest  daughter ” 

("I  don’t  see  why  you  should  use  the  word  'even,’ 
ma,”  Miss  Lavvy  interposed,  " because  I am  quite  as 
important  as  any  of  the  others.”) 

"Peace!”  said  Mrs.  Wilfer,  solemnly.  "I  repeat,  if 
Mr.  George  Sampson  attributes,  to  my  youngest 
daughter,  grovelling  motives,  he  attributes  them  equally 
to  the  mother  of  my  youngest  daughter.  That  mother 
repudiates  them,  and  demands  of  Mr.  George  Sampson, 
as  a youth  of  honour,  what  he  ivould  have?  I may  be 
mistaken — nothing  is  more  likely — but  Mr.  George 
Sampson,”  proceeded  Mrs.  Wilfer,  majestically  waving 


414  OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 

her  gloves,  appears  to  me  to  be  seated  in  a first-class 
equipage.  Mr.  George  Sampson  appears  to  me  to  be  on 
his  way,  by  his  own  admission,  to  a residence  that  may 
be  termed  Palatial.  Mr.  George  Sampson  appears  to 
me  to  be  invited  to  participate  in  the — shall  I say  the — 
Elevation  which  has  descended  on  the  family  with 
I which  he  is  ambitious,  shall  I say  to  Mingle?  Whence, 

! then,  this  tone  on  Mr.  Sampson’s  part?  ” 

I ^^It  is  only,  ma’am,”  Mr.  Sampson  explained,  in  ex- 
ceedingly low  spirits,  because,  in  a pecuniary  sense,  I 
am  painfully  conscious  of  my  unworthiness.  Lavinia 
is  now  highly  connected.  Can  I hope  that  she  will  still 
remain  the  same  Lavinia  as  of  old?  And  is  it  not  par- 
donable if  I feel  sensitive  when  I see  a disposition  on 
her  part  to  take  me  up  short?” 

If  you  are  not  satisfied  with  your  position,  sir,”  ob- 
served Miss  Lavinia,  with  much  politeness,  we  can  set 
you  down  at  any  turning  you  may  please  to  indicate  to 
my  sister’s  coachman.” 

Dearest  Lavinia,”  urged  Mr.  Sampson,  pathetically, 
I adore  you.” 

Then,  if  you  can’t  do  it  in  a more  agreeable  manner,” 
returned  the  young  lady,  I wish  you  wouldn’t.” 

also,”  pursued  Mr.  Sampson,  ''  respect  you,  ma’am, 
to  an  extent  which  must  ever  be  below  your  merits,  I 
am  well  aware,  but  still  up  to  an  uncommon  mark.  Bear 
with  a wretch,  Lavinia,  bear  with  a wretch,  ma’am,  who 
feels  the  noble  sacrifices  you  make  for  him,  but  is  goaded 
almost  to  madness,”  Mr.  Sampson  slapped  his  forehead, 
when  he  thinks  of  competing  with  the  rich  and  infiu- 
ential.” 

When  you  have  to  compete  with  the  rich  and  influ- 
ential, it  will  probably  be  mentioned  to  you,”  said  Miss 
Lavvy,  in  good  time.  At  least,  it  will  if  the  case  is  my 
case.” 

Mr.  Sampson  immediately  expressed  his  fervent  opin- 
ion that  this  was  more  than  human,”  and  was  brought 
upon  his  knees  at  Miss  Lavinia’s  feet. 

It  was  the  crowning  addition  indispensable  to  the  full 
enjoyment  of  both  mother  and  daughter,  to  bear  Mr. 
Sampson,  a grateful  captive,  into  the  glittering  halls  he 
had  mentioned,  and  to  parade  him  through  the  same,  at 
once  a living  witness  of  their  glory,  and  a bright  in- 
stance of  their  condescension.  Ascending  the  staircase. 


PERSONS  AND  TPIINGS  IN  GENERAL.  415 


Miss  Lavinia  permitted  him  to  walk  at  her  side^  with 
the  air  of  saying  : Notwithstanding  all  these  surround- 
ings, I am  yours  as  yet,  George.  How  long  it  may  last 
is  another  question,  but  I am  yours  as  yet.”  She  also 
benignantly  intimated  to  him,  aloud,  the  nature  of  the 
objects  upon  which  he  looked,  and  to  which  he  was 
unaccustomed:  as,  Exotics,  George,”  ^^An  avia.ry, 
George,”  ^^An  ormolu  clock,  George,”  and  the  like. 
While,  through  the  whole  of  the  decorations,  Mrs.  Wil- 
fer  led  the  way  with  the  bearing  of  a Savage  Chief,  who 
would  feel  himself  compromised  by  manifesting  the 
slightest  token  of  surprise  or  admiration. 

Indeed,  the  bearing  of  this  impressive  woman,  through- 
out the  day,  was  a pattern  to  all  impressive  women 
under  similar  circumstances.  She  renewed  the  acquaint- 
ance of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin,  as  if  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boffin 
had  said  of  her  what  she  had  said  of  them,  and  as  if 
Time  alone  could  quite  wear  her  injury  out.  She  re- 
garded every  servant  who  approached  her  as  her  sworn 
enemy,  expressly  intending  to  offer  her  affronts  with 
the  dishes,  and  to  pour  forth  outrages  on  her  moral  feel- 
ings from  the  decanters.  She  sat  erect  at  table,  on  the 
right  hand  of  her  son-in-law,  as  half  suspecting  poison 
in  the  viands,  and  as  bearing  up  with  native  force  of 
character  against  other  deadly  ambushes.  Her  carriage 
towards  Bella  was  as  a carriage  towards  a young  lady 
of  good  position,  whom  she  had  met  in  society  a few 
years  ago.  Even  when,  slightly  thawing  under  the  in- 
fluence of  sparkling  champagne,  she  related  to  her  son- 
in-law  some  passages  of  domestic  interest  concerning 
her  papa,  she  infused  into  the  narrative  such  Arctic 
suggestions  of  her  having  been  an  unappreciated  bless- 
ing to  mankind,  since  her  papa’s  days,  and  also  of  that 
gentleman’s  having  been  a frosty  impersonation  of  a 
frosty  race,  as  struck  cold  to  the  very  soles  of  the  feet  of 
the  hearers.  The  Inexhaustible  being  produced,  star- 
ing, and  evidently  intending  a weak  and  washy  smile 
shortly,  no  sooner  beheld  her,  than  it  was  stricken  spas- 
modic and  inconsolable.  When  she  took  her  leave  at 
last,  it  would  have  been  hard  to  say  whether  it  was  with 
the  air  of  going  to  the  scaffold  herself,  or  of  leaving  the 
inmates  of  the  house  for  immediate  execution.  Yet, 
John  Harmon  enjoyed  it  all  merrily,  and  told  his  wife, 
when  he  and  she  were  alon,e,  that  her  natural  ways  had 


416 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


never  seemed  so  dearly  natural  as  beside  this  foil,  and 
that,  although  he  did  not  dispute  her  being  her  father’s 
daughter,  he  should  ever  remain  steadfast  in  the  faith 
that  she  could  not  be  her  mother’s. 

This  visit  was,  as  has  been  said,  a grand  event.  An- 
other event,  not  grand  but  deemed  in  the  house  a special 
one,  occurred  at  about  the  same  period ; and  this 
was  the  first  interview  between  Mr.  Sloppy  and  Miss 
Wren. 

The  doll’s  dressmaker,  being  at  work  for  Inexhausti- 
ble upon  a full-dressed  doll  some  two  sizes  larger  than 
that  young  person,  Mr.  Sloppy  undertook  to  call  for 
it,  and  did  so. 

''Come  in,  sir,”  said  Miss  Wren,  who  was  working  at 
her  bench.  " And  who  may  you  be  ?” 

Mr.  Sloppy  introduced  himself  by  name  and  buttons. 

"Oh  indeed!”  cried  Jenny.  "Ah!  I have  been 
looking  forward  to  knowing  you.  I heard  of  your  dis- 
tinguishing yourself.” 

"Did  you.  Miss?”  grinned  Sloppy.  "I  am  sure  I 
am  glad  to  hear  it,  but  I don’t  know  how.” 

"Pitching  somebody  into  a mud-cart,”  said  Miss 
Wren. 

"Oh!  That  way!”  cried  Sloppy.  "Yes,  Miss.” 
And  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed. 

"Bless  us!”  exclaimed  Miss  Wren,  with  a start. 
"Don’t  open  your  mouth  as  wide  as  that,  young  man, 
or  it’ll  catch  so,  and  not  shut  again  some  day.” 

Mr.  Sloppy  opened  it,  if  possible,  wider,  and  kept  it 
open  until  his  laugh  was  out. 

" Why,  you’re  like  the  giant,”  said  Miss  Wren,  " when 
he  came  home  in  the  land  of  Beanstalk,  and  wanted 
Jack  for  supper.” 

" Was  he  good-looking.  Miss  ?”  asked  Sloppy. 

" No,”  said  Miss  Wren.  " Ugly.” 

Her  visitor  glanced  round  the  room — which  had 
many  comforts  in  it  now,  that  had  not  been  in  it  before 
— and  said  : "This  is  a pretty  place.  Miss.” 

" Glad  you  think  so,  sir,”  returned  Miss  Wren.  "And 
what  do  you  think  of  Me  ? ” 

The  honesty  of  Mr.  Sloppy  being  severely  taxed  by 
the  question,  he  twisted  a button,  grinned,  and  fal- 
tered. 


PERSONS  AND  THINGS  IN  GENERAL.  417 


Out  with  it  said  Miss  Wren,  with  an  arch  look. 

Don’t  you  think  me  a queer  little  comicality?”  In 
shaking  her  head  at  him  after  asking  the  question,  she 
shook  her  hair  down. 

^^Oh!”  cried  Sloppy,  in  a burst  of  admiration. 

What  a lot,  and  what  a colour  ! ” 

Miss  Wren,  with  her  usual  expressive  hitch,  went  on 
with  her  work.  But  left  her  hair  as  it  was  ; not  dis- 
pleased by  the  effect  it  had  made. 

'‘Yon  don’t  live  here  alone;  do  you,  Miss?”  asked 
Sloppy. 

‘^No,”  said  Miss  Wren,  with  a chop.  ^^Live  here 
with  my  fairy  godmother.” 

^^With” — Mr.  Sloppy  couldn’t  make  it  out; — '^with 
who,  did  you  say.  Miss  ? ” 

Well,”  replied  Miss  Wren,  more  seriously.  With 
my  second  father.  Or  with  my  first,  for  that  matter.” 
And  she  shook  her  head,  and  drew  a sigh.  If  you 
had  known  a poor  child  I used  to  have  here,”  she  added, 

you’d  have  understood  me.  But  you  didn’t,  and  you 
can’t.  All  the  better  ! ” 

“Yon  must  have  been  taught  a long  time,”  said  Slop- 
py, glancing  at  the  array  of  dolls  in  hand,  before  you 
came  to  work  so  neatly,Miss,andwithsuchaprettytaste.” 

''Never  was  taught  a stitch,  young  man!”  returned 
the  dressmaker,  tossing  her  head.  "Just  gobbled  and 
gobbled,  till  I found  out  how  to  do  it.  Badly  enough  at 
first,  but  better  now.” 

" And  here  have  I,”  said  Sloppy,  in  something  of  a 
self -reproachful  tone,  "been  a learning  and  a learning, 
and  here  has  been  Mr.  Boffin  been  a paying  and  a pay- 
ing ever  so  long.” 

" I have  heard  what  your  trade  is,”  observed  Miss 
Wren,  "it’s  csilDinet-making.” 

Mr.  Sloppy  nodded.  " Now  that  the  Mounds  is  done 
with,  it  is.  I’ll  tell  you  what,  Miss,  I should  like  to  make 
you  something.” 

" Much  obliged.  But  what  ? ” 

" I could  make  you,”  said  Sloppy,  surveying  the  room, 
" I could  make  you  a handy  set  of  nests  to  lay  the  dolls 
in.  Or  I could  make  you  a handy  little  set  of  drawers, 
to  keep  your  silks  and  threads  and  scraps  in.  Or  I could 
turn  you  a rare  handle  for  that  crutch-stick,  if  it  belongs 
to  him  you  call  your  father.” 

VOL.  II.  27 


418 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


''It  belongs  to  me/’  returned  the  little  creature,  with 
a quick  flush  of  her  neck  and  face.  "I  am  lame.” 

Poor  Sloppy  flushed  too,  for  there  was  an  instinctive 
delicacy  behind  his  buttons,  and  his  own  hand  had 
struck  it.  He  said,  perhaps,  the  best  thing  in  the  way 
of  amends  that  could  be  said.  "I  am  very  glad  it’s 
yours,  because  I’d  rather  ornament  it  for  you  than  for 
_anyone  else.  Please  may  I look  at  it  ? ” 

Miss  Wren  was  in  the  act  of  handing  it  to  him  over 
her  bench,  when  she  paused.  " But  you  had  better  see 
me  use  it,”  she  said  sharply.  " This  is  the  way.  Hop- 
petty,  Kicketty,  Peg-peg-peg.  Not  pretty;  is  it?” 

" It  seems  to  me  that  you  hardly  want  it  at  all,” 
said  Sloppy. 

The  little  dressmaker  sat  down  again,  and  gave  it 
into  his  hand,  saying,  with  that  better  look  upon  her, 
and  with  a smile:  "Thank  you.” 

" And  as  concerning  the  nests  and  the  drawers,” 
said  Sloppy,  after  measuring  the  handle  on  his  sleeve, 
and  softly  standing  the  stick  aside  against  the  wall, 
" why,  it  would  be  a real  pleasure  to  me.  I’ve  heerd 
tell  that  you  can  sing  most  beautiful;  and  I should  be 
better  paid  with  a song  than  with  any  money,  for  I 
always  loved  the  likes  of  that,  and  often  give  Mrs. 
Higden  and  Johnny  a comic  song,  myself,  with  ' Spoken  ’ 
in  it.  Though  that’s  not  your  sort.  I’ll  wager.” 

"You  are  a very  kind  young  man,”  returned  the 
dressmaker;  " a really  kind  young  man.  I accept  your 
offer. — I suppose  He  won’t  mind,”  she  added  as  an  after- 
thought, shrugging  her  shoulders;  "and  if  he  does,  he 
may!” 

" Meaning  him  that  you  call  your  father.  Miss?”  asked 
Sloppy. 

" No,  no,”  replied  Miss  Wren.  "Him,*'him,  him!” 

" Him,  him,  him!”  repeated  Sloppy;  staring  about,  as 
if  for  Him. 

" Him  who  is  coming  to  court  and  marry  me,”  re- 
turned Miss  Wren.  " Dear  me,  how  slow  you  are!  ” 

"Oh!  Him!'’  said  Sloppy.  And  seemed  to  turn 
thoughtful  and  a little  troubled.  " I never  thought  of 
him.  When  is  he  coming.  Miss?” 

" What  a question!  ” cried  Miss  Wren.  " How  should 
Jknow  ?” 

" Where  is  he  coming  from,  Miss?” 


PERSONS  AND  THINGS  IN  GENERAL.  419 


Why,  good  gracious,  how  can  I tell!  He  is  coming 
from  somewhere  or  other,  I suppose,  and  he  is  coming 
some  day  or  other,  I suppose.  1 don’t  know  any  more 
about  him  at  present.” 

This  tickled  Mr.  Sloppy  as  an  extraordinarily  good 
joke,  and  he  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed  with 
measureless  enjoyment.  At  the  sight  of  him  laughing 
in  that  absurd  way,  the  doll’s  dressmaker  laughed  very 
heartily  indeed.  So  they  both  laughed  till  they  were 
tired. 

There,  there,  there!  ” said  Miss  Wren.  For  good- 
ness’ sake,  stop.  Giant,  or  I shall  be  swallowed  up  alive 
before  I know  it.  And  to  this  minute  you  haven’t  said 
what  you’ve  come  for.” 

have  come  for  little  Miss  Harmonses  doll/’ said 
Sloppy. 

thought  as  much,”  remarked  Miss  Wren,  and 
here  is  little  Miss  Harmonses  doll  waiting  for  you. 
She’s  folded  up  in  silver  paper,  you  see,  as  if  she  was 
wrapped  from  head  to  foot  in  new  bank  notes.  Take 
care  of  her,  and  there’s  my  hand,  and  thank  you  again.” 

I’ll  take  more  care  of  her  than  if  she  was  a gold  im- 
age,” said  Sloppy,  ^^and  there’s  both  m?/  hands.  Miss, 
and  ITl  soon  come  back  again.” 

But,  the  greatest  event  of  all,  in  the  new  life  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  John  Harmon,  was  a visit  from  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Eugene  Wray  burn.  Sadly  wan  and  worn  was  the  once 
gallant  Eugene,  and  walked  resting  on  his  wife’s  arm, 
and  leaning  heavily  upon  a stick.  But  he  was  daily 
growing  stronger  and  better,  and  it  was  declared  by  the 
medical  attendants  that  he  might  not  be  much  disfigured 
by-and-by.  It  was  a grand  event,  indeed,  when  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Eugene  Wray  burn  came  to  stay  at  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
John  Harmon’s  house:  where,  by  the  way,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Boffin  (exquisitely  happy,  and  daily  cruising  about,  to 
look  at  shops)  were  likewise  staying  indefinitely. 

To  Mr.  Eugene  Wrayburn,  in  confidence,  did  Mrs. 
John  Harmon  impart  what  she  had  known  of  the  state 
of  his  wife’s  affections  in  his  reckless  time.  And  to 
Mrs.  John  Harmon,  in  confidence,  did  Mr.  Eugene 
Wrayburn  impart  that,  please  God,  she  should  see  how 
his  wife  had  changed  him  ! 

I make  no  protestations,”  said  Eugene  ; — who 


420 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


does,  who  means  them? — I have  made  a resolution.” 

But  would  you  believe,  Bella,”  interposed  his  wife, 
coming  to  resume  her  nurse’s  place  at  his  side,  for  he 
never  got  on  well  without  her  : that  on  our  wedding- 
day  he  told  me  he  almost  thought  the  best  thing  he 
could  do  was  to  die  ? ” 

As  I didn’t  do  it,  Lizzie,”  said  Eugene,  I’ll  do  that 
better  thing  you  suggested — for  your  sake.” 

That  same  afternoon,  Eugene  lying  on  his  couch  in 
his  own  room  up-stairs,  Lightwood  came  to  chat  with 
him,  while  Bella  took  his  wife  out  for  a ride.  Nothing 
short  of  force  will  make  her  go,”  Eugene  had  said  ; so, 
Bella  had  playfully  forced  her. 

Dear  old  fellow,”  Eugene  began  with  Lightwood, 
reaching  up  his  hand,  ^‘you  couldn’t  have  come  at  a 
better  time,  for  my  mind  is  full,  and  I want  to  empty  it. 
First,  of  my  present,  before  I touch  upon  my  future. 
M.  R.  F.,  who  is  a much  younger  cavalier  than  I,  and  a 
professed  admirer  of  beauty,  was  so  affable  as  to  remark 
the  other  day  (he  paid  us  a visit  of  two  days  up  the  river 
there,  and  much  objected  to  the  accommodation  of  the 
hotel),  that  Lizzie  ought  to  have  her  portrait  painted. 
Which,  coming  from  M.  R.  F.,  may  be  considered 
equivalent  to  a melodramatic  blessing.” 

You  are  getting  well,”  said  Mortimer,  with  a smile. 

Really,”  said  Eugene,  ''I  mean  it.  When  M.  R.  F. 
said  that,  and  followed  it  up  by  rolling  the  claret  (for 
which  he  called,  and  I paid)  in  his  mouth,  and  saying: 
^ My  dear  son,  why  do  you  drink  this  trash?’  it  was  tan- 
tamount— in  him — to  a paternal  benediction  on  our 
union,  accompanied  with  a gush  of  tears.  The  coolness  of 
M.  R.  F.  is  not  to  be  measured  by  ordinary  standards.” 

^^True  enough,”  said  Lightwood. 

That’s  all,”  pursued  Eugene,  That  I shall  ever 
hear  from  M.  R.  F.  on  the  subject,  and  he  will  continue 
to  saunter  through  the  world  with  his  hat  on  one  side. 
My  marriage  being  thus  solemnly  recognised  at  the 
family  altar,  I have  no  further  trouble  on  that  score. 
Next,  you  really  have  done  wonders  for  me,  Mortimer, 
in  easing  my  money  perplexities,  and  with  such  a 
guardian  and  steward  beside  me,  as  the  preserver  of  my 
life  (I  am  hardly  strong  yet,  you  see,  for  I am  not  man 
enough  to  refer  to  her  without  a trembling  voice — she 
is  so  inexpressibly  dear  to  me^  Mortimer!),  the  little  that 


PERSONS  AND  THINGS  IN  GENERAL.  421 

I can  call  my  own  will  be  more  than  it  ever  has  been. 
It  need  be  more,  for  you  know  what  it  always  has  been 
in  my  hands.  Nothing.’’ 

Worse  than  nothing,  I fancy,  Eugene.  My  own 
small  income  (I  devoutly  wish  that  my  grandfather 
had  left  it  to  the  Ocean  rather  than  to  me!)  has  been  an 
effective  Something,  in  the  way  of  preventing  me  from 
turning* to  at  Anything.  And  I think  yours  has  been 
much  the  same.” 

There  spake  the  voice  of  wisdom,”  said  Eugene. 

' WVe  are  shepherds  both.  In  turning  to  at  last,  we  turn 
to  in  earnest.  Let  us  say  no  more  of  that,  for  a few 
years  to  come.  Now,  I have  had  an  idea,  Mortimer,  of 
taking  myself  and  my  wife  to  one,  of  the  colonies,  and 
working  at  my  vocation  there.” 

I should  be  lost  without  you,  Eugene;  but  you  may 
be  right.” 

No,”  said  Eugene,  emphatically.  ^^Not  right. 
Wrong.” 

He  said  it  with  such  a lively — almost  angry — flash, 
that  Mortimer  showed  himself  greatly  surprised. 

^Wou  think  this  thumped  head  of  mine  is  excited?” 
Eugene  went  on  with  a high  look;  ‘^not  so,  believe  me, 
I can  say  to  you  of  the  healthy  music  of  my  pulse,  what 
Hamlet  said  of  his.  My  blood  is  up,  but  wholesomely 
up,  when  I think  of  it.  Tell  me!  Shall  I turn  coward 
to  Lizzie,  and  sneak  away  with  her,  as  if  I were 
ashamed  of  her?  Where  would  your  friend’s  part  in 
this  world  be,  Mortimer,  if  she  had  turned  coward  to 
him,  and  on  immeasurably  better  occasion?” 

Honourable  and  staunch,”  said  Light  wood.  And  yet, 
Eugene 

And  yet  what,  Mortimer?” 

And  yet,  are  you  sure  that  you  might  not  feel  (for 
her  sake,  I say  for  her  sake)  any  slight  coldness  towards 
her  on  the  part  of — Society?” 

Oh  ! You  and  I may  well  stumble  at  the  word,”  re- 
turned Eugene,  laughing.  Do  we  mean  our  Tip- 
pins  ? ” 

Perhaps  we  do,”  said  Mortimer,  laughing  also. 

Faith,  we  do!”  returned  Eugene,  with  great  ani- 
mation. ^^We  may  hide  behind  the  bush  and  beat 
about  it,  but  we  no  ! Now,  my  wife  is  something  nearer 
to  my  heart,  Mortimer,  than  Tippins  is,  and  I owe  her 


422 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


a little  more  than  I owe  to  Tipping,  and  I am  rather 
prouder  of  her  than  I ever  was  of  Tipping.  Therefore  I 
will  fight  it  out  to  the  last  gasp,  with  her  and  for  her, 
here,  in  the  open  field.  When  I hide  her,  or  strike  for 
her,  faint-heartedly,  in  a hole  or  a corner,  do  you,  whom 
I love  next  best  upon  earth,  tell  me  what  I shall  most 
righteously  deserve  to  be  told: — that  she  would  have 
done  well  to  turn  me  over  with  her  foot  that  night 
when  I lay  bleeding  to  death,  and  spat  in  my  dastard 
face.’’ 

The  glow  that  shone  upon  him  as  he  spoke  the  words, 
so  irradiated  his  features  that  he  looked,  for  the  time, 
as  though  he  had  never  been  mutilated.  His  friend  re- 
sponded as  Eugene  would  have  had  him  respond,  and 
they  discoursed  of  the  future  until  Lizzie  came  back. 
After  resuming  her  place  at  his  side,  and  tenderly 
touching  his  hands  and  his  head,  she  said: 

Eugene,  dear,  you  made  me  go  out,  but  I ought  to 
have  stayed  with  you.  You  are  more  flushed  than  you 
have  been  for  many  days.  What  have  you  been 
doing  ? ” 

Nothing,”  replied  Eugene,  but  looking  forward  to 
your  coming  back.” 

And  talking  to  Mr.  Lightwood,”  said  Lizzie,  turning 
to  him  with  a smile.  But  it  cannot  have  been  Society 
that  disturbed  you.” 

Faith,  my  dear  love  !”  retorted  Eugene,  in  his  old 
airy  manner,  as  he  laughed  and  kissed  her,  ^'1  rather 
think  it  was  Society,  though  !” 

The  word  ran  so  much  in  Mortimer  Lightwood's 
thoughts  as  he  went  home  to  the  Temple  that  night, 
that  he  resolved  to  take  a look  at  Society,  which  he  had 
not  seen  for  a considerable  period. 


CHAPTER  THE  LAST. 

THE  VOICE  OF  SOCIETY. 

Behoves  Mortimer  Lightwood,  therefore,  to  an- 
swer a dinner  card  from  Mr.  and  Mrs  Veneering 
requesting  the  honour,  and  to  signify  that  Mr.  Mortimer 
Lightwood  will  be  happy  to  have  the  other  honour.  The 


THE  VOICE  OF  SOCIETY. 


423 


Veneerings  have  been,  as  usual,  indefatigably  dealing 
dinner  cards  to  Society,  and  whoever  desires  to  take  a 
hand  had  best  be  quick  about  it,  for  it  is  written  in  the 
Books  of  the  Insolvent  Fates  that  Veneering  shall 
make  a resounding  smash  next  week.  Yes.  Having 
found  out  the  clue  to  that  great  mystery  how  people 
can  contrive  to  live  beyond  their  means,  and  having 
overjobbed  his  jobberies  as  legislator  deputed  to  the 
Universe  by  the  pure  electors  of  Pocket-Breeches,  it 
shall  come  to  pass  next  week  that  Veneering  wTll  accept 
the  Chiltern  Hundreds,  that  the  legal  gentleman  in 
Britannia’s  confidence  will  again  accept  the  Pocket- 
Breeches  Thousands,  and  that  the  Veneerings  will  re- 
tire to  Calais,  there  to  live  on  Mrs.  Veneering’s  dia- 
monds (in  which  Mr.  Veneering,  as  a good  husband, 
has  from  time  to  time  invested  considerable  sums),  and 
to  relate  to  Neptune  and  others,  how  that,  before  Ve- 
neering retired  from  Parliament,  the  House  of  Com- 
mons was  composed  of  himself  and  the  six  hundred  and 
fifty-seven  dearest  and  oldest  friends  he  had  in  the 
world.  It  shall  likev/ise  come  to  pass,  at  as  nearly  as 
possible  the  same  period,  that  Society  will  discover  that 
it  always  did  despise  Veneering,  and  distrust  Veneer- 
ing, and  that  when  it  went  to  Veneering’s  to  dinner  it 
always  had  misgivings — though  very  secretly  at  the 
time,  it  would  seem,  and  in  a perfectly  private  and 
confidential  manner. 

The  next  week’s  books  of  the  Insolvent  Fates,  how- 
ever, being  not  yet  opened,  there  is  the  usual  rush  to  the 
Veneerings  of  the  people  who  go  to  their  house  to  dine 
with  one  another  and  not  with  them.  There  is  Lady 
Tippins.  There  are  Podsnap  the  Great,  and  Mrs.  Pod- 
snap.  There  is  Twemlow.  There  are  Buffer,  Boots,  and 
Brewer.  There  is  the  Contractor,  who  is  Providence  to 
five  hundred  thousand  men.  There  is  the  Chairman, 
travelling  three  thousand  miles  per  week.  There  is  the 
brilliant  genius  who  turned  the  shares  into  that  remark- 
ably exact  sum  of  three  hundred  and  seventy-five  thous- 
and pounds,  no  shillings,  and  no  pence. 

To  whom,  add  Mortimer  Lightwood,  coming  in  among 
them  with  a reassumption  of  his  old  languid  air,  founded 
on  Eugene,  and  belonging  to  the  days  when  he  told  the 
story  of  the  man  from  Somewhere. 

That  fresh  fairy,  Tippins,  all  but  screams  at  sight  of 


424 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


her  false  swain.  She  summons  the  deserter  to  her  with 
her  Mn;  but  the  deserter,  predetermined  not  to  come, 
talks  Britain  with  Podsnap.  Podsnap  always  talks 
Britain,  and  talks  as  if  he  were  a sort  of  Private  Watch- 
man employed,  in  the  British  interests,  against  the  rest 
of  the  world.'  We  know  what  Russia  means,  sir,’’  says 
Podsnap  ; we  know  what  France  wants  ; we  see  what 
America  is  up  to  ; but  we  know  what  England  is.  That’s 
enough  for  us.” 

However,  when  dinner  is  served,  and  Lightwood  drops 
into  his  old  place  over  against  Lady  Tippins,  she  can  be 
fended  off  no  longer.  ^^Long  banished  Robinson  Cru- 
soe,” says  the  charmer,  exchanging  salutations,  ^^how 
did  you  leave  the  Island?” 

Thank  you,”  says  Lightwood.  ‘Ht  made  no  com- 
plaint of  being  in  pain  anywhere.” 

'^Say,  how  did  you  leave  the  savages?”  asks  Lady 
Tippins. 

They  were  becoming  civilised  when  I left  Juan  Fer- 
nandez,” says  Lightwood.  ''At  least,  they  were  eating 
one  another,  which  looked  like  it.” 

' ' Tormentor ! ” returns  the  dear  young  creature.  "You 
know  what  I mean,  and  you  trifle  with  my  impatience. 
Tell  me  something,  immediately,  about  the  married 
pair.  You  were  at  the  wedding.” 

"Was  I,  by-the-bye?”  Mortimer  pretends,  at  great 
leisure,  to  consider.  " So  I was!” 

"How  was  the  bride  dressed?  In  rowing  costume?” 

Mortimer  looks  gloomy,  and  declines  to  answer. 

"I  hope  she  steered  herself,  skiffed  herself,  paddled 
herself,  larboarded  and  starboarded  herself,  or  what- 
ever the  technical  term  may  be,  to  the  ceremony?” 
proceeds  the  playful  Tippins. 

"However  she  got  to  it,  she  graced  it,”  says  Mor- 
timer. 

Lady  Tippins,  with  a skittish  little  scream,  attracts 
the  general  attention.  "Graced  it  I Take  care  of  me 
if  I faint.  Veneering.  He  means  to  tell  us  that  a horrid 
female  waterman  is  graceful ! ” 

"Pardon  me.  I mean  to  tell  you  nothing.  Lady 
Tippins,”  replies  Lightwood.  And  keeps  his  word  by 
eating  his  dinnar  with  a show  of  the  utmost  indiffer- 
ence. 

"You  shall  not  escape  me  in  this  way,  you  morose 


THE  VOICE  OF  SOCIETY. 


425 

backwoodsman,”  retorts  Lady  Tippins.  You  shall  not 
evade  the  question,  to  screen  your  friend  Eugene,  who 
has  made  this  exhibition  of  himself.  The  knowledge 
shall  be  brought  home  to  you  that  such  a ridiculous 
affair  is  condemned  by  the  voice  of  Society.  My  dear 
Mrs.  Veneering,  do  let  us  resolve  ourselves  into  a Com- 
mittee of  the  whole  House  on  the  subject.” 

Mrs.  Veneering,  always  charmed  by  this  rattling 
sylph,  cries:  ‘^Oh  yes!  Do  let  us  resolve  ourselves 
into  a Committee  of  the  whole  House  I So  delicious  I ” 
Veneering  says,  ''As  many  as  are  of  that  opinion,  say 
Aye — contrary,  No — the  Ayes  have  it.”  But  nobody 
takes  the  slightest  notice  of  his  joke. 

" Now,  I am  Chairwoman  of  Committee  ! ” cries  Lady 
Tippins. 

("What  spirits  she  has!”  exclaims  Mrs.  Veneering; 
to  whom  likewise  nobody  attends.) 

"And  this,”  pursues  the  sprightly  one,  " is  a Com- 
mittee of  the  whole  House  to  what-you-may-call-it — 
elicit,  I suppose — the  voice  of  Society.  The  question 
before  the  Committee  is,  whether  a young  man  of  very 
fair  family,  good  appearance,  and  some  talent,  makes 
a fool  or  a wise  man  of  himself  in  marrying  a female 
waterman,  turned  factory  girl.” 

" Hardly  so,  I think,”  the  stubborn  Mortimer  strikes 
in.  "I  take  the  question  to  be,  whether  such  a man  as 
you  describe.  Lady  Tippins,  does  right  or  wrong  in 
marrying  a brave  woman  (I  say  nothing  of  her  beauty), 
who  has  saved  his  life,  with  a wonderful  energy  and 
address;  whom  he  knows  to  be  virtuous,  and  possessed 
of  remarkable  qualities  ; whom  he  has  long  admired, 
and  who  is  deeply  attached  to  him.” 

" But,  excuse  me,”  says  Podsnap,  with  his  temper  and 
his  shirt  collar  about  equally  rumpled;  "was  this  young 
woman  ever  a female  waterman?” 

"Never.  But  she  sometimes  rowed  in  a boat  with 
her  father,  I believe.” 

General  sensation  against  the  young  woman.  Brewer 
shakes  his  head. 

"And  now,  Mr.  Lightwood,  was  she  ever,”  pursues 
Podsnap,  with  his  indignation  rising  high  into  those 
hair-brushes  of  his,  " a factory  girl?” 

"Never.  But  she  has  had  some  employment  in  a 
paper  mill,  I believe.” 


426 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


General  sensation  repeated.  Brewer  says  Oh  dear!  ’’ 
Boots  says  Oh  dear!’’  Buffer  says  Oh  dear!  ” All  in 
a rumbling  tone  of  protest. 

Then  all  I have  to  say  is/’  returns  Podsnap,  put- 
ting the  thing  away  with  his  right  arm,  ^Ghat  my  gorge 
rises  against  such  a marriage — that  it  offends  and  dis- 
gusts me — that  it  makes  me  sick — and  that  I desire  to 
know  no  more  about  it.” 

Now  I wonder/’  thinks  Mortimer,  amused/^  whether 
you  are  the  Voice  of  Society?”) 

Hear,  hear,  hear!”  cries  Lady  Tippins.  ^^Your 
opinion  of  this  mesalliance,  honourable  colleague  of 
the  honourable  member  who  has  just  sat  down?” 

Mrs.  Podsnap  is  of  opinion  that  in  these  matters  there 
should  be  an  equality  of  station  and  fortune,  and  that 
a man  accustomed  to  Society  should  look  out  for  a 
woman  accustomed  to  Society,  and  capable  of  bearing 
her  part  in  it  with — an  ease  and  elegance  of  carriage — 
that — ” Mrs.  Podsnap  stops  there,  delicately  intimating 
that  every  such  man  should  look  out  for  a fine  woman 
as  nearly  resembling  herself  as  he  may  hope  to  dis- 
cover. 

Now,  I wonder,  ” thinks  Mortimer,  whether  you 
are  the  Voice?”) 

Lady  Tippins  next  canvasses  the  Contractor  of  five- 
hundred-thousand  power.  It  appears  to  this  potentate, 
that  what  the  man  in  question  should  have  done,  would 
have  been  to  buy  the  young  woman  a boat  and  a small 
annuity,  and  set  her  up  for  herself.  These  things  are 
a question  of  beef -steaks  and  porter.  You  buy  the  young 
woman  a boat.  Very  good.  You  buy  her,  at  the  same 
time,  a small  annuity.  You  speak  of  that  annuity  in 
pounds  sterling,  but  it  is  in  reality  so  many  pounds  of 
beef-steaks  and  so  many  pints  of  porter.  On  the  one 
hand,,  the  young  woman  has  the  boat.  On  the  other 
hand,  she  consumes  so  many  pounds  of  beef-steaks  and 
so  many  pints  of  porter.  These  beef-steaks  and  that 
porter  are  the  fuel  to  that  young  woman’s  engine.  She 
derives  therefrom  a certain  amount  of  power  to  row 
the  boat;  that  power  will  produce  so  much  money;  you 
add  that  to  the  small  annuity;  and  thus  you  get  at  the 
young  woman’s  income.  That  ( it  seems  to  the  Con- 
tractor) is  the  way  of  looking  at  it. 

The  fair  enslaver  having  fallen  into  one  of  her  gentle 


THE  VOICE  OF  SOCIETY. 


427 


sleeps  during  this  last  exposition,  nobody  likes  to  wake 
her.  Fortunately,  she  comes  awake  of  herself,  and  puts 
the  question  to  the  Wandering  Chairman.  The  Wan- 
derer can  only  speak  of  the  case  as  if  it  were  his  own. 
If  such  a young  woman  as  the  young  woman  described, 
had  saved  his  own  life,  he  would  have  been  very  much 
obliged  to  her,  wouldn’t  have  married  her,  and  would 
have  got  her  a berth  in  an  Electric  Telegraph  Office, 
where  young  women  answer  very  well. 

What  does  the  Genius  of  the  three  hundred  and  sev- 
enty-five thousand  pounds,  no  shillings,  and  no  pence^ 
think  ? He  can’t  say  what  he  thinks  without  asking: 
Had  the  young  woman  any  money? 

^^No,”  says  Lightwood,  in  an  uncompromising  voice; 
^^no  money.” 

Madness  and  moonshine,”  is  then  the  compressed 
verdict  of  the  Genius.  A man  may  do  anything  law- 
ful for  money.  But  for  no  money! — Bosh!  ” 

What  does  Boots  say? 

Boots  says  he  wouldn’t  have  done  it  under  twenty 
thousand  pound. 

What  does  Brewer  say? 

Brewer  says  what  Boots  says. 

What  does  Buffer  say? 

Buffer  says  he  knows  a man  who  married  a bathing- 
woman,  and  bolted. 

Lady  Tippins  fancies  she  has  collected  the  suffrages 
of  the  whole  Committee  (nobody  dreaming  of  asking 
the  Veneerings  for  their  opinion),  when  looking  round 
the  table  through  her  eye-glass  she  perceives  Mr.  T wem- 
low  with  his  hand  to  his  forehead. 

Good  gracious  ! My  Twemlow  forgotten  ? My  dearest ! 
My  own  ! What  is  his  vote  ? 

Twemlow  has  the  air  of  being  ill  at  ease  as  he  takes 
his  hand  from  his  forehead  and  replies. 

'^I  am  disposed  to  think,”  says  he,  ‘‘that  this  is  a 
question  of  the  feelings  of  a gentleman.” 

gentleman  can  have  no  feelings  who  contracts 
such  a marriage,”  flushes  Podsnap. 

Pardon  me,  sir,”says  Twemlow,  rather  less  mildly 
than  usual,  I don’t  agree  with  you.  If  this  gentle- 
man’s feelings  of  gratitude,  of  respect,  of  admiration, 
and  affection,  induced  him  (as  I presume  they  did)  to 
marry  this  lady ” 


OUR  MUTUAL  FRIEND. 


428 


This  lady  ! ’’  echoes  Podsnap. 

Sir/’  returns  Twemlow,  with  his  wristbands  brist- 
ling a little,  “you  repeat  the  word  ; I repeat  the  word. 
This  lady.  What  else  would  you  call  her,  if  the  gentle- 
man were  present  ? ” 

This  being  something  in  the  nature  of  a poser  for  Pod- 
snap,  he  merely  waves  it  away  with  a speechless  wave. 

I say,”  resumes  Twemlow,  ^^if  such  feelings  on  the 
part  of  this  gentleman,  induced  this  gentleman  to  marry 
this  lady,  I think  he  is  the  greater  gentleman  for  the 
action,  and  makes  her  the  greater  lady.  I beg  to  say, 
that  when  I use  the  word,  gentleman,  I use  it  in  the 
sense  in  which  the  degree  may  be  attained  by  any  man. 
The  feelings  of  a gentleman  I hold  sacred,  and  I confess 
I am  not  comfortable  when  they  are  made  the  subject 
of  sport  or  general  discussion.” 

“1  should  like  to  know,”  sneers  Podsnap,  ‘^whether 
your  noble  relation  would  be  of  your  opinion.” 

^^Mr.  Podsnap,”  retorts  Twemlow,  ''permit  me.  He 
might  be,  or  he  might  not  be.  I cannot  say.  But,  I 
could  not  allow  even  him  to  dictate  to  me  on  a point  of 
great  delicacy,  on  which  I feel  very  strongly.” 

Somehow,  a canopy  of  wet  blanket  seems  to  descend 
upon  the  company,  and  Lady  Tippins  was  never  known 
to  turn  so  very  greedy  or  so  very  cross.  Mortimer  Light- 
wood  alone  brightens.  He  has  been  asking  ^himself , as 
to  every  other  member  of  the  Committee  in  turn,  " I 
wonder  whether  you  are  the  Voice  ?”  But  he  does  not 
ask  himself  the  question  after  Twemlow  has  spoken, 
and  he  glances  in  Twemlow’s  direction  as  if  he  were 
grateful.  When  the  company  disperse — by  w'hich  time 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Veneering  have  had  quite  as  much  as  they 
want  of  the  honour,  and  the  guests  have  had  quite  as 
much  as  they  want  of  the  other  honour — Mortimer  sees 
Twemlow  home,  shakes  hands  with  him  cordially  at 
parting,  and  fares  to  the  Temple,  gaily. 


THE  END, 


POSTSCRIPT, 


IN  LIEU  OP  PREFACE, 


HEN  I devised  this  story,  I foresaw  the  likelihood 


’ ’ that  a class  of  readers  and  commentators  would 
suppose  that  I was  at  great  pains  to  conceal  exactly  what 
I was  at  great  pains  to  suggest:  namely,  that  Mr.  John 
Harmon  was  not  slain,  and  that  Mr.  John  Rokesmith  was 
he.  Pleasing  myself  with  the  idea  that  the  supposition 
might  in  part  arise  out  of  some  ingenuity  in  the  story, 
and  thinking  it  worth  while,  in  the  interests  of  art,  to 
hint  to  an  audience  that  an  artist  (of  whatever  denom- 
ination) may  perhaps  be  trusted  to  know  what  he  is 
about  in  his  vocation,  if  they  will  concede  him  a 
little  patience,  I was  not  alarmed  by  the  anticipation. 

To  keep  for  a long  time  unsuspected,  yet  always 
working  itself  out,  another  purpose  originating  in  that 
leading  incident,  and  turning  it  to  a pleasant  and  use- 
ful account  at  last,  was  at  once  the  most  interesting 
and  the  most  difficult  part  of  my  design.  Its  difficulty 
was  much  enhanced  by  the  mode  of  publication;  for,  it 
would  be  very  unreasonable  to  expect  that  many  read- 
ers, pursuing  a story  in  portions  from  month  to  month 
through  nineteen  months,  will,  until  they  have  it  before 
them  complete,  perceive  the  relations  of  its  finer  threads 
to  the  whole  pattern  which  is  always  before  the  eyes  of 
the  story-weaver  at  his  loom.  Yet,  that  I hold  the  ad- 
vantages of  the  mode  of  publication  to  outweigh  its 
disadvantages,  may  be  easily  believed  of  one  who  re- 
vived it  in  the  Pickwick  Papers  after  long  disuse,  and 
has  pursued  it  ever  since. 

There  is  sometimes  an  odd  disposition  in  this  country 
to  dispute  as  improbable  in  fiction  what  are  the  com- 


430 


POSTSCRIPT. 


monest  experiences  in  fact.  Therefore,  I note  here, 
though  it  may  not  be  at  all  necessary,  that  there  are 
hundreds  of  Will  Cases  (as  they  are  called)  far  more 
remarkable  than  that  fancied  in  this  book;  and  that  the 
stores  of  the  Prerogative  Office  teem  with  instances  of 
testators  who  have  made,  changed,  contradicted,  hidden, 
forgotten,  left  cancelled,  and  left  uncancelled,  each 
many  more  wills  than  were  ever  made  by  the  elder  Mr. 
Harmon  of  Harmony  Gaol. 

In  my  social  experiences  since  Mrs.  Betty  Higden 
came  upon  the  scene  and  left  it,  I have  found  Circum- 
locutional champions  disposed  to  be  warm  with  me  on 
the  subject  of  my  view  of  the  Poor  Law.  My  friend 
Mr.  Bounderby  could  never  see  any  difference  between 
leaving  the  Coketown  hands ’’ exactly  as  they  were, 
and  requiring  them  to  be  fed  with  turtle  soup  and  veni- 
son out  of  gold  spoons.  Idiotic  propositions  of  a parallel 
nature  have  been  freely  offered  for  my  acceptance,  and 
I have  been  called  upon  to  admit  that  I would  give  Poor- 
Law  relief  to  anybody,  anywhere,  anyhow.  Putting 
this  nonsense  aside,  I have  observed  a suspicious  ten- 
dency in  the  champions  to  divide  into  two  parties;  the 
one,  contending  that  there  are  no  deserving  Poor  who 
prefer  death  by  slow  starvation  and  bitter  weather,  to 
the  mercies  of  some  Relieving  Officers  and  some  Union 
Houses;  the  other,  admitting  that  there  are  such  Poor, 
but  denying  that  they  have  any  cause  or  reason  for 
what  they  do.  The  records  in  our  newspapers,  the  late 
exposure  by  The  Lancet,  and  the  common  sense  and 
senses  of  common  people,  furnish  too  abundant  evidence 
against  both  defences.  But,  that  my  view  of  the  Poor- 
Law  may  not  be  mistaken  or  misrepresented,  I will 
state  it.  I believe  there  has  been  in  England,  since  the 
days  of  the  Stuarts,  no  law  so  often  infamously  ad- 
ministered, no  law  so  often  openly  violated,  no  law 
habitually  so  ill-supervised.  In  the  majority  of  the 


POSTCRIPT. 


431 


shameful  cases  of  disease  and  death  from  destitution, 
that  shock  the  Public  and  disgrace  the  country,  the  ille- 
gality is  quite  equal  to  the  inhumanity^ — and  known  lan- 
guage could  say  no  more  of  their  lawlessness. 

On  Friday  the  Ninth  of  June  in  the  present  year,  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  BoflBn  (in  their  manuscript  dress  of  receiving 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lammle  at  breakfast)  were  on  the  South 
Eastern  Railway  with  me,  in  a terribly  destructive  acci- 
dent. When  I had  done  what  I could  to  help  others,  I 
climbed  back  into  my  carriage — nearly  turned  over  a 
viaduct,  and  caught  aslant  upon  the  turn — to  extricate 
the  worthy  couple.  They  were  much  soiled,  but  other- 
wise unhurt.  The  same  happy  result  attended  Miss 
Bella  Wilfer  on  her  wedding-day,  and  Mr.  Riderhood  in- 
specting Bradley  Headstone’s  red  neckerchief  as  he  lay 
asleep.  I remember  with  devout  thankfulness  that  I 
can  never  be  much  nearer  parting  company  with  my 
readers  for  ever  than  I was  then^  until  there  shall  be 
written  against  my  life,  the  two  words  with  which  I 
have  this  day  closed  this  book: — The  End. 


September y 2d.,  1865. 


, ^OkSi^j  ri'S'"‘'"y 

['  i It 

Vj  V SVlyy  '- 

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